11. “Do you think I could be a princess?”
“Do you think I could be a princess?”
Caleb Hawthorne
After all those meetings, I’m glad to get back home. I spent the entire afternoon thinking about Aria, wondering how she was doing with the girls. Coach even caught me spacing out during the strategy meeting. That straightened me out—for about thirty minutes.
Finally, I’m back home, but Aria isn’t here. When I texted her, she said they had another shop to visit before coming home.
It’s weird, waiting fo r someone to come home. I’ve been alone for so long, I didn’t think it was something I was missing. But the thought of spending the evening with her, talking about our day while eating a good meal, is oddly appealing.
I’m changing a light bulb in the dining room when the door opens. She looks as beautiful as ever, but a little more relaxed too. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, and her one eye is sparkling brighter than before. I had a feeling it would do her good. Marissa and Beth are a force of positivity.
She drops her haul of shopping bags on the floor—more than I was expecting. “Hey,” she says. “What are you doing?”
“Just changing a light bulb. How was your day? Should I be worried about getting a call from the bank anytime soon?” I wink as I climb down from the ladder.
She chuckles, bending down to take off her shoes.
“I don’t think so. I definitely wasn’t a shopaholic in my former life—or a shop assistant, for that matter.
Nothing really felt familiar, but I had a good time.
Marissa and Beth were really nice, and you were right.
It was good to go out and see other people. ”
“Glad you enjoyed it. What did you get?” I ask, truly curious about the contents of all those bags—and how she managed to carry them herself.
“A few basics, but most of thes e bags are filled with Christmas cheer.”
I frown in confusion, and she fights back a laugh.
“I thought this place could use some Christmas ambiance,” she says, pulling a wreath from one of the bags.
“ Ohh , I see.” I cross my arms with a smirk. “You’re redecorating already.”
She laughs, her cheeks tinged pink. “I just thought it’d be nice. I figured, since you didn’t have time to decorate, I could do it for you.”
Her offer stirs something in my chest. “I was just kidding, and thank you. That’s incredibly thoughtful. Christmas is my favorite holiday, actually. But decorating when I’m alone and only here half the time never felt worth the hassle.”
“I think I like Christmas too,” she muses, her single eye lighting up. “Every time I look at garlands or lights, I get this warm, fuzzy feeling. It was probably a time of joy for me as well.”
“That’s great. Show me what else you got.”
She unpacks the rest of the decorations, and I genuinely love everything she picked. None of the items are over the top or too big, and they’ll bring a festive touch to this home.
“Oh, careful,” I say as she c lumsily yanks a box out of a bag. “Don’t poke the other eye, now.”
“Thank ye, matey,” she says with a mischievous grin, slipping into her pirate voice before bursting into giggles.
“Anytime, ye scallywag,” I say with a wink, triggering even more laughter.
“Good one.” Gesturing to the piles of holiday decor, she continues, “I’ll put all of this away and work on decorating tomorrow after my therapist appointment.”
“Why don’t we do it together right now?” I offer, dusting glitter off my sweatshirt. “We have some down time before dinner.”
Her eye sparkles brighter than ever. “I’d love that.”
After a few finishing touches, the place looks a lot better—cozy, inviting, with just the right sprinkling of holiday cheer.
The mantel now sports an evergreen garland, there’s a large wreath on one wall, lights wrap around the stair railing, and there’s even a cute snowman centerpiece on the living room table.
The soft glow of Christmas lights makes everything feel warmer, more homey.
And for the first time since I moved in, the house doesn’t feel so empty.
“We did a gre at job,” Aria declares while admiring the space, a hand on her hip. “It looks like Christmas now. Even with no tree.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Do you want to get a tree?”
“Nah.” She scratches her small nose. “I don’t think anything is missing. It’s perfect like this.”
“Agreed.” I stretch my arms over my head. “I’m going to order some pizza. What do you want?”
“Um. I don’t know,” she mumbles, looking away. I know her mind is back on her memory loss, and I’m the genius who brought it up.
“Tell you what. I’ll ask for a sampling of flavors. I like to have options too,” I lie. I always order the exact same pizza, every time. But it’s good to try new things.
With a nod of agreement, Aria goes upstairs to put her things away while I make a few phone calls.
Before long, the doorbell rings with our pizza delivery. The guy peeks at us from behind a mountain of pizza boxes, looking surprised to see such a quiet house. I guess ten pizzas was a little overboard, but . . .options.
“Whoa,” Aria says when I return to the kitchen, balancing the boxes. “I had a feeling hockey players were big on food, but that’s a lot of pizza.”
I chuckle. “This way you can tr y them all and decide which one you like. Plus, this is good stuff. Real Italian pizza. My friend Elio validated it when he was visiting.”
“Is he a hockey player too?” she asks, grabbing a stack of napkins before sitting across from me.
“Actually, he’s a Formula 1 driver. I don’t see him often, though. He lives in Italy.”
“Really? Have you ever been there?”
As we dig into the pizza, we chat about Italy and the other places I’ve visited, and the melancholy in her eye returns, but only for a second. Thankfully, the delicious pizza takes over, and it’s all so good, she has a hard time choosing her favorite toppings.
“I’m stuffed,” she says, leaning back against the chair. “What are we going to do with all these leftovers?”
“Don’t worry,” I say, packing up the rest of the slices. “There’s a shelter not far from here. I’ll drop these off tomorrow.”
We clear the table, then head down to the family room to watch some TV and—most importantly—digest all that food.
I’m probably going to regret this tomorrow.
It’s always tempting to eat more and work out less when we have a few days off between games, but I have to stay on the top of my game. It’s going to be a busy week.
“So, what do you want to watch? ” I ask, grabbing the remote.
“I don’t know. Let’s see what’s available.”
“If we do that, we might just spend the entire evening scrolling through the catalog.”
She chuckles. “Good point. It took me forever to choose one yesterday.”
I scroll down the list of movies, but nothing sparks our interest.
“Do you think I could be a princess?” Aria asks out of the blue.
Confused, I glance at the screen, where there’s the movie poster for The Princess Diaries . The little ‘Watched’ icon tells me that’s the movie she picked yesterday. “Maybe. The odds are slim, but anything is possible.”
“Well, thanks for crushing my dreams,” she grumbles, grabbing a cushion and hugging it.
I wince, but I can’t hold back my laugh. “Sorry. Would you really want to be a princess, though? Sounds like a tough gig. All those rules and protocols.”
“At this point, I’ll take anything. But yeah, the princess thing might be a pipe dream.” Her expression softens. “I wonder if I’m married or have a boyfriend. It’s weird not knowing, right?”
My throat constricts. “Right.”
“I don’t feel like I’m with someone. Then again, I don’t feel like I have anyone in my life, which makes zero sense. I have to have someone, right?” She pauses, her eye downcast. “Anyway, what about you? Why are you single?”
I shrug, keeping my eyes on the TV. “Don’t have time, I guess. I know it’s a lame answer,” I say with a grin. “But it’s kind of true. With forty-one away games per season, I’m not here that often. And even when I am, my life revolves around my job. I can’t do both.”
She leans into the couch and draws her knees to her chest. “It must be great, being so dedicated to something. Having a passion. But don’t most of your teammates have wives and girlfriends?”
I scratch my head. “Yeah. But I’m the captain, which comes with a lot of extra work and responsibility.
Plus, I had a bad experience in the past.” I swallow hard.
“I dated this girl in college. Hockey was already everything to me by that time. I tried to make it work, but I couldn’t find a balance, and we both ended up miserable.
I don’t want to put myself—or someone else—through that again, you know? ”
Honestly, it was one of the lowest moments of my life. Hearing the disappointment in her voice whenever I canceled yet another date while she always showed up to my games. I was focused on honing my sk ills, putting hockey first. Needless to say, she got the short end of the stick.
She nods. “Yeah, I get it. Finding that balance must be tough.”
“What abo—” I stop myself just in time, heat spreading over my face.
Unfortunately, she still caught it. “It’s okay,” she says with a weak chuckle.
“Sorry. It’s—I—” I stammer, not knowing how to salvage this.
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s weird for me too. I feel like I should be contributing my own story, but I’m drawing a blank. I do think I’m a relationship person, but like I said before, I don’t feel like I have someone in my life. Surely if I did, I’d miss him, right?”
“Of course. And surely he would miss you too, and he’d be out there looking for you.” I can’t imagine losing Aria and not overturning every stone on the planet until I found her again.