Chapter 47
The smell of roasted garlic and the bubbling sound of the sauce teases my senses as I stir in the pasta. The sauce has been simmering for a while, so now the whole apartment smells heavenly. I peek into the oven to see the meatballs browning nicely. It’s crazy how much of a difference having another person in your life can make. Oren being around and taking so much of that pressure off of me has given me so much, including allowing enjoyment back into everyday things.
It’s easier now to envision a life that wasn’t available to me a few short months ago. Letting myself imagine the possibility of something I would never have was too dangerous back then. Now, it's an entirely different experience. As amazing as the experience has been, it brings up old feelings and guilt that will probably never go away. Wishing I had done things differently and slipping into the feeling of beating myself up for never giving Oren a chance in the first place becomes easier if I’m not careful.
It’s almost dinner time, and Oren should be back any minute. My cooking will never be as fancy or nearly as good as anything Oren can make. I know he won’t judge me for that. I actually look forward to being able to cook for him. Between doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, and the podcast, he’s been gone more than he has been here. Each afternoon or evening, depending on the schedule, he is home to spend time with Lily and me, which is honestly good. Having more for himself here in Atlanta gives me hope that we will see more of Oren in the future. Permanently.
We have yet to have that particular conversation yet. It is 110% my fault that we haven’t, because I’ve actively avoided it. I know without a doubt that I want him to be here for us, with us, always. But for some reason that I can’t explain, I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m terrified that one day, he’ll get tired of being tied down by Lily and me. The routine we’ve developed and the evenings that make us feel like a real family will no longer be comforting but instead will feel stifling. And the idea of that happening crushes me, so instead of being mature about it, I keep running away.
The sound of the door shutting softly signals me to button up all of my anxiety and smile to myself because, despite how scared I am, I’d still rather risk the potential heartbreak and continue to spend as much time with Oren as I can. His footsteps get louder, and his pace is lighter, almost eager, so I turn to watch his long, muscular legs guide him into the kitchen. His dark denim jeans cling to his muscles like a dream, his limp is barely noticeable now, and an absolutely panty-melting smile stretches across his face.
“It smells amazing in here, damn,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me toward him.
“Pasta night,” I giggle as he nuzzles into my neck. His proximity simply ignites the need I have for him. I pull away, not wanting to get distracted before dinner. “Ready to eat?”
“Oh, I’m starving,” he says with a rapacious grin that tells me he’s referring to more than just my pasta and meatballs. There is a fire and liveliness back in his eyes this evening that has been missing since before the injury.
“Today was pretty great,” he continues, the excitement creeping into his voice.
I smile up at him, looking deep into his eyes. “Oh, yeah? What happened today?”
Oren gives my waist a quick squeeze before letting go and leaning against the opposite counter. I miss the warmth of his arms around me immediately, but the distance between us makes it easier to observe him, to watch the enthusiasm radiate around him.
“Bryce asked me to be on Hit Behind the Net full-time. Ya boy is officially employed. No more freeloading for me,” he says, winking at me.
“Oh my God! That’s amazing!” I exclaim, jumping around and clapping before reaching out to comfort him. “You aren't freeloading. You’ve been doing everything you can.” And I mean every word of it. He’s been here for both of us like I never expected possible. He’s made me feel safe, like everything will be okay. That I'm not in it alone anymore.
I plate our pasta and salads and get everything to the table while Oren sets Lily up in her high chair. The two of us sit around the table, like the picture perfect family we are becoming. We continue to discuss the particulars of his full-time spot on the podcast and how we spent our day. Lily babbles while playing with her food—for every bite, two bites end up all over her. Everything feels perfect, but as we eat, I start to sense something is bothering Oren. I get the sense that whatever the issue is, it is seemingly deep-rooted because he is still smiling and talking like it's not there, but his eyes betray his unease.
He turns his focus to Lily, then directs his attention back to me, and I can see the conflict growing beneath the surface. I have a feeling that my time to avoid the conversation has come to an end. I recognize the look in his eye, the one that tells me he wants to fit in and be more than an unexpected addition to our lives. He’s already made that known and hasn’t pushed me, while I’ve kept him at arm's length. My guess is his hesitation to bring it back up is directly related to the fear of being vulnerable or having his heart ripped out and stomped on. It’s the exact same way that I feel, maybe for slightly different reasons.
Or is there even that big of a difference? We are both just afraid to let each other in. Afraid to be hurt by what happens between us. I want to tell him that having him in my life has made it infinitely better and that I want him to be here with us forever. No matter what happens, he has a spot here, and he doesn’t have to work so hard to earn his place here. I want to calm his anxieties about our future, but I don’t because I’m chicken shit, scared.
I don’t know when it happened, but it happened a while ago. I started trusting him more and more each day, truly relying on him like he will be here forever. But this hasn’t kept me from still trying to convince myself that it's dangerous. That letting my guard down will cause everything in our lives to come crashing down. I hate that my mind keeps betraying me despite the way my heart beats faster when I’m around Oren. But apparently, my mind and my heart are two different teams fighting each other for control.
After dinner, Oren offers to clean up the dishes, and I certainly don’t stop him. While he cleans, Lily and I play for a bit before starting her bedtime routine. As I move through the motions of getting Lily ready for bed, I can’t stop thinking about how much has changed. The way Oren’s changed since he found out about Lily, how he adjusted his life for her on his own accord. How he’s been here for us since…well, since the injury, and while that might be the truth on paper, it is so much more than that. He has grown into this loving father, taken on this new role that he never asked for, that he never expected for himself, all of this while also going through the most intense career transition he will ever experience. And somehow, everything that has happened along the way feels right. That scares the hell out of me. Wanting to need him and needing to want him both scare me shitless because I’m slowly starting to let myself embrace the unknown.
After Lily is tucked into her crib, I head to take a shower, hoping it will help clear my head. But as the warm water cascades over my skin, the feeling of the water droplets infuses my nerve endings with the need for something more intimate. I want Oren’s eyes on me again, the look of pure fire that he had burning in his gaze during dinner to give me courage. I need to feel his caressing touch as it moves over every inch of me, kissing me. I want his affection to draw out all of the feelings I’ve kept buried for too long.
I hop out of the shower before I even get started, dripping water all over the floor and calling to him in the other room. “Oren,” I say, the volume of my voice low but insistent. “I need you.”
It doesn’t take him long to stalk through the bedroom, pulling his shirt off with one hand as he hits the bathroom. His green eyes are dark and full of lust. I take his hand and pull him into the shower with me. The second that water hits us both, he backs me into the tile wall, pinning me in place as his mouth crashes down on mine.
His kiss is wild and unrestrained, the steam from the shower swirling around us as our tongues tangle with each other. The graze of his touch roams over every inch of me that he can. I melt into him, letting all the uncertainty dissolve and be washed away by the steady stream of the showerhead and the feeling of his touch. I slip my arms around his waist, gripping his ass tightly, pulling him close to me. I lift my leg, wrap it around his waist, and grind my aching clit into his thickening cock. I urge him to take me with my movements, for him to plunge deep inside of me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pours all of his attention into the intensity of our kiss. We make out like desperate teenagers while I work myself toward an orgasm through the pressure of my body moving against his. My breathing becomes labored, and short gasps are the only thing that makes it between my lips. I can’t process anything other than the way Oren’s pulling me apart at the seams with every kiss.
As my release crashes over me, he slows his movements, his kisses softer, more tender, and sensual. He steps back slightly, pulling us under the warm water. He spins me around and hugs my back into his chest, his hard length poking into my lower back, but he doesn’t do anything about it. Instead, he grabs the soap and starts to wash my body. How he washes me is gentle, his touch worshiping as he moves over my curves, every flaw, memorizing every inch of my skin.
“I love you,” Oren whispers against my ear, his lips trailing soft kisses down my neck.
The words are so genuine. I know he means it. He would never say something so meaningful to get something from me. He said it because it's important to him that I know. He says those three words to me so clearly, with pure intention. And it takes my breath away.
I freeze for a moment, trying to recover and get my bearings as I process the meaning of what Oren just said. Love and everything involved with it are so new to me and to both of us in different ways. While Oren might have actively avoided attachments, I just never made it a priority. Love didn’t seem like a priority to me before Lily, and after that, it was far from anything I was interested in. Despite never looking for it and not having anything to compare it to, I know, without a doubt, how I feel about Oren is stronger and more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before. That realization is a little scary and sudden at first, but then it hits me. He’s been trying to tell me this for weeks and silently showing me how he feels for even longer, which makes it less scary. It feels right. It’s everything I’ve wanted to hear from him. Deep in my chest, I can feel the pull and the desire to tell him that I love him too, but the words stay lodged in my throat. Not yet, I’m not ready. Instead, I turn around in his arms and pull him tighter to me, pressing a kiss onto the space where his heart sits deep in his chest. I don’t know if it’s his words or just simply holding each other, but I feel peace settle over me, my fear being replaced by how much I need him for life.
Once the water runs cold, we step out of the shower. Oren wraps me in a towel, his strong hands lingering on my face for a few extra seconds. He guides me to bed and tucks me into the warm covers. He climbs under the covers behind me, pulling me to rest on his chest, and he wraps his muscular arms around me tightly, comforting me from the inside out. As we drift off to sleep, his warmth against me, I am deeply satisfied in a way that goes beyond just physical. I know that whatever the future holds, it will be together. Maybe I’m not ready to say the words out loud yet, but my heart is already so far gone for this man. It's just time for my mind to accept it.
The next morning, we leave Lily with Heidi while we go to Oren’s appointment with Dr. Lyons. The waiting room seems colder today, but that could just be me projecting. The tension radiating off of Oren is crashing into me like a wave. He’s been dreading this appointment. The only reason I know that is because I can read him well now. He hasn’t said a damn thing about it. I really want to be here for him for this appointment, just in case it turns into anything like the last one. When we finally get called back, Oren stands up slowly, his jaw clenched. I follow beside him, giving a reassuring squeeze of the hand that I have in mine. He glances over at me with a tight smile, but he can’t hide the worry in his eyes.
Oren settles onto the exam table while I stand anxiously beside him, failing at being a comforting presence. Dr. Lyons knocks quickly and steps in, her attention on her tablet. No wonder Oren isn’t looking forward to this appointment, this is stressful. This woman is impossible to read in doctor mode. Once she seems satisfied with whatever she is looking at, she looks up, greeting us both with a professional smile. I really don’t know what to think about Maria, in this capacity. Both sides of her, her as a friend and her as a doctor, are equally impressive, just wildly different.
“I see you have the future Mrs. Samuels here with you this morning,” she says, her smirk growing in a way that makes me giggle. After my first mimosa during a Sunday brunch with Ziggy and Maria, I fessed up pretty quickly that I lied to be able to see Oren that night. I will admit that the buttoned-up doctor does a pretty good job making a joke about it every time I see her now. As quickly as the joke lands, her humor fades, getting serious to begin her examination. “So, how have things been going?”
Oren shrugs, clearly playing it cool, not wanting to say something that might bite him in the ass. “It’s been okay. There’s still pain during PT or if I move wrong, but I’ve been pushing through it.”
Dr. Maria’s brows furrow as she pokes and prods his knee. She takes her time with the exam, checking his scar and range of motion, and I wait silently with bated breath.
After a few minutes, she steps back and crosses her arms, her face unreadable. “I consulted with your neurologist about your recent head scan, and all signs of the concussion are gone, and the trauma is healed, which is great.”
“I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming,” Oren grumbles.
“Yes, while the outside of your knee has healed nicely, the interior injury and repair are taking double the time. After reviewing your PT files, I believe some changes need to be made. It is my honest and professional opinion that if you keep pushing yourself at the same rate you have, you will end up doing more harm than good.”
I watch Oren carefully. He grinds his jaw back and forth, taking in what she has to say. He nods along even though I know he doesn’t like what he hears.
“And,” Dr. Maria continues, her voice softer, meant to be more comforting, “there’s no chance of being cleared for next season. We already discussed this as a possibility, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise. For the foreseeable future, your days of playing hockey are over. After you have taken time to heal properly and avoid permanent damage, you can decide if you want to rehab and train to get you back to skating shape.”
I can see how the words hit him, the heavy blow causing his shoulders to sag. There is a heaviness to his features that now look like they are full of pain. Oren and I sit in silence for a while. Dr. Lyons follows our lead, letting the quietness of the room build. It builds to the point that it starts to creep into my skin as Oren stares holes into his hands, processing everything said.
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he says quietly. “I’ll always want to play hockey; that will never change, but I think I'm done. I’m ready for something new.”
There’s a strange tone in his voice, and how solid his words are catch me off guard. My heart swells with pride at first, and then immediately fills with sadness. Just knowing how much hockey means to him and what this decision means hurts, but it also signifies what he is willing to give up. I am blown away that he has somehow already made some sort of peace with it.
Dr. Maria smiles bigger than I think I’ve ever seen her, clearly impressed by his response. “That’s not an easy decision to make, Oren, but I think it's the smart and mature option. And I’m here to help in any way I can. For advice on what comes next, you know where to find me.”
Oren thanks her, and it’s sincere, which also surprises me. We leave the office in silence. Once we’re outside, he exhales an extremely deep breath, like he’s been holding it in for weeks.
I step closer to him, slipping one hand into his and the other around his waist. “How are you feeling?” I ask softly, knowing this moment, no matter which direction he is leaning, is huge.
He looks down at me, his eyes taking in all of my face. His expression is vulnerable. “I don’t know,” he admits. “It feels weird, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’m not sure what anything looks like from here.”
I press my head gently against his chest. “Well, I think that means we should do something to take your mind off things. What do you want to do? Anything you want.”
His smile is slow, and there’s a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Beer, chicken wings, and losing myself deep inside you. That should do it.”
I burst out laughing despite the sadness that still lingers. I’m proud of him for finding the bright side. “I think we can arrange that.”
I hold onto him a little tighter as we walk back to where we are parked. I know that while this was a difficult day for Oren, the man, the hockey player, it was a monumental day for what comes next for us as a couple, as a family.