13. Victoria
VICTORIA
Birds chirping greeted me before my eyes opened.
Thin streams of light pouring through the heavy velveteen curtains that hung over the windows of my bedroom cast a warm shimmer across the dust floating in the air.
I groaned as I rolled over, half expecting a warm stone of meat to be lying right next to me.
But instead, the other side of the bed was cool.
“Mmmmm, cold,” I muttered as I slipped over into the space where Rhett was last night.
To be quite honest, I was glad he wasn’t there when I woke up.
Enough happened that it would take time to process.
While I didn’t mean to fall asleep next to the man, much less break down in his fucking arms, I couldn’t have imagined what it might have felt like, waking up to someone beside me.
I’d slept in a bed by myself ever since Ryan was killed.
It felt wrong, waking up next to someone who wasn’t him.
It also didn’t feel wrong.
That was the part I couldn’t say out loud, even to myself, even in the privacy of my own head. Both things were true at the same time, and they had been getting truer for longer than I was prepared to acknowledge.
I had not let myself want anything for fourteen years.
That was the math of it. Wanting was an expensive habit.
Wanting meant having something to lose, and I had already lost the thing I’d most been willing to want, and I had decided very deliberately and very young that the rest of my life would be built out of duty and competence and quiet love for my daughter, none of which could be taken away from me the way Ryan had been.
Duty couldn’t die in a gas station parking lot.
Competence couldn’t leave a voicemail saying it was running late.
I had made peace with what I had decided to settle for.
I had built an empire inside the smallness of that peace.
And then a hockey player had shown up at my house with a tire iron and a smile and an inexplicable patience for the Golden Girls, and somewhere in the last two months I had started to want.
I had started to want the way other people wanted.
Casually. Daily. In small specific ways that crept up on me at inconvenient moments.
I wanted to know what he ordered for lunch.
I wanted to know what his apartment looked like and whether he kept it clean.
I wanted to know what he sounded like on the phone with someone he loved, because I had a suspicion the answer was going to be devastating, and I wanted to hear it anyway.
I wanted to wake up beside him on a Tuesday with nothing on the schedule and find out what kind of man he was before coffee.
These were not the wants of a forty-three-year-old widow who had a foundation to run.
These were the wants of a woman.
I had not been a woman in fourteen years.
I had been a widow, a mother, an owner, a CEO, a board chair, a strategist. Useful nouns.
Functional nouns. Nouns that earned a paycheck and a Wikipedia entry.
But underneath all of them had been a woman who had been waiting for fourteen years for permission to want something for herself again, and the goddamn problem was that nobody was going to give her that permission except me.
I rolled over again, flopping back onto my stomach. I buried my face into the pillow and ignored how I drew in the scent of Rhett.
Goddamn it, I was in so much trouble.
It was for the better, anyway. I thoroughly embarrassed myself by unleashing emotions that weren’t Rhett’s to field.
It wasn’t his responsibility to pick up the pieces of my life I had yet to stop kicking around on the floor.
However, the growing rays of sun shining through the velveteen curtains reminded me of the bigger fish we had to fry.
I slipped out of bed, cleaned myself up for the day, and pulled out the Chanel. The black one. The one I wore when I needed to remember exactly who I was.
I decided to head to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.
“Brynn?” I asked.
I didn’t even have to come around the corner of the kitchen to hear her sniffling, and the second I saw her at the table with her head pressed to it, I rushed to her side.
“Oh, Brynn. Come here,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her.
“Mama, this is so bad,” she hiccupped through her soft crying.
“Hey, hey,” I said gently.
Reminiscent of what Rhett did with me last night, in fact.
“I gotcha,” I said quietly as I placed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I didn’t even know it was legal to fly a drone up to someone’s windows like that! They were spying on us! How can we not do something about that?!”
I made a silent vow to look into exactly that once I got into my office at Caldwell Arena.
“Do you have work today?” I asked.
She sniffled and shook her head. “I called off. My boss understood.”
I paused. “You called off?”
She snickered as she raised up from me, picking up a napkin to wipe at her nose and face. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t?”
I watched her blow her nose before she crumbled up the napkin and slipped it into her robe pocket.
“I’ve never seen this robe before,” I asked, sliding my hand up the fuzzy, soft material.
“Colton bought it for me,” she croaked out.
I put my hand on the top of her head and gave it a gentle press, the way you did with someone you wanted to hold still for just a second. “Don’t let them rob you of your life, Brynn.”
“I’m scared, Mom,” she said quietly as she looked up at me. “I feel…it’s…”
“You feel violated,” I said plainly.
My daughter’s lower lip quivered as she looked into her lap, and I had half a mind to snap the neck of every fucking reporter that I knew was crowded at the wrought iron gate of the estate.
How dare they make her feel this way. How dare they put a young woman in such a compromising position just because of who she cared about.
“Brynn, look at me,” I said.
She sniffled as she turned those sad eyes up to me, and I swear, for the smallest of moments, I saw Ryan in them.
It took me a second to gather my words. “Remember what I always told you growing up? About fear?”
She sighed heavily, which made me grin.
“Come on,” I said, nudging her playfully, “what did I always say?”
Brynn rolled her eyes. “You can be as scared as you want, so long as it—”
I finished the statement with her. “—doesn’t make your decisions.” I cupped her cheek, turning her watery, fearful gaze to me. “Being afraid isn’t the issue. Allowing it to rule your life is. You can be scared. You have every right to be. But you can’t coop yourself up because of that fear.”
She sniffled. “You do.”
I paused. “What?”
She scoffed. “Oh, don’t give me that, Mom,” she said as she stood and walked away from the table. “Everyone sees how Rhett treats you. Everyone sees how smitten he is with you. Everyone except you, because you won’t even entertain the idea of moving on without Dad.”
My jaw dropped open in shock. Where the hell was this coming from?
“So,” Brynn snickered as she reached into the fridge and pulled out a soda, “it’s rich coming from you, this whole ‘don’t be afraid’ thing, when all you’ve been is afraid since Dad died.”
I shot up to my feet. “You take that back.”
“No,” she said as she cracked the drink open, “I won’t. Because I really do think you believe that because you work and built a business and interface with clients, that you aren’t scared. But that’s the only life you lead. Your clients are sometimes the only people you talk to throughout the day.”
“Brynn Rose—”
Her gaze hardened on me. “The full name doesn’t work anymore on me, Mom. I love you, but it doesn’t. And I’m tired of watching you waste your life away because you can’t cope with what happened to Dad.”
It took every ounce of energy I had for me not to erupt. “Brynn.”
“Mom.”
I drew in a deep, intentional breath. “Robbing yourself of work, but not friends, is simply the inverse of what you accuse me of doing: all work and no friends. You think your choice is somehow any better?”
Her shoulders deflated a bit. “No.”
I nodded. “Then why don’t you get your boss back on the line, let him know you’ll be coming into work anyway, and I’ll escort you there.”
Her eyes watered over. “You sure?”
“Of course.”
She swallowed hard and motioned between us. “Even after I just…”
I just giggled softly. “That little tirade doesn’t have anything on the shit you pulled as a teenager.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hah. Hah. Hah.”
“I’m serious! It doesn’t,” I said as I walked over to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. “Remember the time you snuck out with Lee and McGrady?”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
I grinned. “Oh, I will. Every. Single. Time. Until the day I pass from this Earth, I’ll always remind you of the time you tried sneaking out of the house, only to get your dress snagged on the gutter while you dangled there, hissing at those boys to help you down.”
She rolled her eyes as I laughed, and I pulled her in for another big hug. I wrapped her up as tightly as I could, just like I used to do when she was younger and not feeling well, and I pressed another long kiss to the top of her head.
“We’re going to get you through this,” I whispered. “But you can’t let it rob you of your life.”
And as much as I hated to admit it, I spoke from experience.
Because the truth of the matter was: my daughter spoke reality to me that day.
We had officially hit the point in our relationship where I was talking to another fully fledged adult.
Not some child waiting for me to dictate orders and tell her where to step next.
I couldn’t think about that, though.
I had to help get my daughter to work.
Cameras snapped and microphones were shoved into our faces the instant James pulled up to The Hideout.
Immediately, Brynn’s boss came out, shoving through the crowd gathering at the front door of the bar.
I stepped out and shoved around to the other side of the car, helping my daughter out while her boss batted away the commotion.
But that didn’t stop those fucking reporters from shouting things that made me want to break their fucking necks.
“Brynn! Over here! Let me see that pretty face for a picture!”
“Miss Caldwell! We just need one quote! What are your feelings for Coach Drunk?!”
My daughter’s face immediately contorted with anger, but I clapped my hand over her mouth before I put on my best smile.
“Absolutely no comment,” I said in my cheeriest expression.
Then her boss and I helped ourselves to a big shove as we got her through the door of the bar.
We barely got the door closed before she erupted. “Coach Drunk?! Is that really what they’re calling him? He’s been doing so well with his drinking! That’s fucked up! Fuck them!”
I grabbed her by the shoulders as her boss got the door locked. “Yes. Exactly. Fuck all of them. You stay focused on the goal, yeah? One thing at a time.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “One thing at a time. Right. Yeah.”
“I’ll go call the sheriff,” her boss muttered beneath his breath as he walked away.
Brynn thumbed over her shoulder. “I should go help him. It doesn’t look like he’s been able to get a damn thing done for opening.”
I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t you dare leave this place without an escort. Call me, and I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I squeezed her hand in mine before I turned away, but her voice rose behind me.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?” I asked as I turned back around to face her.
Her smile was sheepish, and I knew what that meant. I held up my hand to stop her and shook my head.
“You owe me no apologies for speaking what you feel is your truth.”
Her eyes watered over. “I know that Dad’s death was hard on you. It was hard on me, too. But, I’m tired of seeing you so hollowed out all the time. I’m tired of seeing you just function. I want you to be happy, too.”
I reached up and cupped her cheek. “Day by day, all right?”
She nodded slowly. “All right.”
With a stroke of my thumb against her cheek, I set back out into the wild.
Cameras clicked, shuttering pictures of me I never once gave permission for.
It didn’t matter, though. Them photographing me meant they weren’t hounding my daughter, and that was just fine, as far as I was concerned.
I strutted my stuff, swaying my hips and giving those assholes something to think about later.
I texted James and slipped out the side door toward the waiting car, speeding off across the street toward the parking lot of Caldwell Arena.
I wrapped around to the side entrance, thinking maybe it would be easier to get inside than the front doors. But apparently, the team must’ve used the side entrance to get into practice, because there was another crowd of picture-snappers and cameramen standing at the door.
They rushed toward me before I ever got out of my fucking car. The questions came fast and overlapping and deeply personal, the kind that told me someone had been digging, and digging hard. I barely got a word out before a gruff hand came down onto my shoulder.
“No fucking comment,” Coach Mercer growled before I was practically yanked away from the crowd.
I barely noticed how he practically dragged me through the side door. He pulled the door closed, flipping every single lock we had on the damned thing, and the entire time, I just stared at the wall.
How did they know…
“Miss Caldwell,” Coach said as he turned to face me. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t even realize I was shivering until he said my name. I tightened my muscles to stop the onslaught of emotions.
“Brynn’s going to need an escort home from the bar tonight. I’m assuming you’ll be picking her up?” I said, voice clipped, as I turned to face him.
Coach nodded his head. “Promptly at ten.”
I raked my eyes up and down Coach’s haggard form before I drew in another deep breath. “What are you going to do about all this?”
I didn’t like how silent he was before he answered. “The big game is Friday night. If they aren’t deterred when we win it, I’ll do an interview.”
I felt my nose tick with something akin to distrust. I swept my eyes over him once more before clicking past him once my body stopped trembling like a fucking leaf in the wind.
“You better hope it works,” I said as my heels touched down against the floor.
He was smart not to respond as I made my way to my office.