Chapter 3 #2
I was tangled up in fucking knots. I was grieving my best friend while falling in love with his wife. She didn’t have a clue how I felt about her, and I was about to spend five days with her on a romantic island for her sister’s wedding.
What have I gotten myself into?
I opened the door to the sauna, and Gabe followed me inside. We sank down on opposite benches, the heat seeping into my pores and making me relax. Gabe was silent, and I knew he was still waiting for me to tell him what was going on.
Maybe it was the endorphins from the cold plunge followed by the sauna—the startling contrast. Or maybe it was the warm, enclosed space that felt sacred, like a confessional. But somehow, I found myself admitting, “Bryn’s sister is having a destination wedding, and I offered to be her plus-one.”
He leaned back on his elbows, watching me. “Interesting.”
Gabe was the one person who knew how I felt about Bryn.
He’d caught me smiling at a text from her on the jet one night toward the end of the season.
When I wouldn’t tell him who I was texting, he’d grabbed my phone.
His eyes had widened in shock and then landed on mine in understanding.
He hadn’t said anything more about it then or since, but I’d figured it was only a matter of time.
Apparently, I’d given him the opening he’d been waiting for because he said, “Her plus-one or her date?”
“Plus-one,” I said in a firm tone, warning him not to push it.
“Holy shit.” A smile formed on his lips. “This is a golden opportunity,”
I frowned. “How do you figure?”
He nodded, and I could see the wheels turning. “Time to get out of the friend zone, baby!”
“I—” I shook my head. “You’re—”
Gabe held up a hand. “Don’t try to deny it. And don’t try to make this about Derek either. He was a good man and a good husband. I miss him like hell, but that won’t change the fact that he’s gone.”
He’s gone.
Sometimes it was still difficult to wrap my head around that fact.
I knew Gabe wasn’t trying to be harsh or hurtful. He was trying to be honest. Even so, I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“I’m done,” I said, shaking my head.
Gabe continued, undeterred by my surly attitude. “No, Frasier. I’m done. I’m done standing by and being silent. I can’t keep watching you tear yourself up over this.”
I clenched my fists. “You’re overstepping,” I bit out.
“Am I?” he asked, not willing to back down. “Because I thought we were friends. And friends are there for each other.”
“I’m in love with my best friend’s wife. Does that sound like something a good friend would do?” I growled.
Gabe slicked his hair away from his face. “The fact that you love her doesn’t take away from the friendship you had with him.”
“Doesn’t it?” I asked, more annoyed with myself than anything else. “Isn’t it a betrayal of our friendship? Isn’t it wrong?”
Gabe sighed. “If anything, it’s…” He seemed to search for the right word, eventually settling on, “Understandable.”
“Understandable,” I scoffed, my gaze focused on the floor.
I smoothed my hair back from my face, sweat dripping down my forehead. I grabbed one of the peppermint-scented towels and draped it over the back of my neck, hoping it would soothe my frazzled thoughts as quickly as it was cooling my skin.
“You’ve known Bryn since college. She’s always been a part of your life, but especially since…” He sighed. “Anyway, it’s understandable that something so tragic would bring you even closer together. And knowing Derek, I think he’d be grateful.”
“Grateful,” I spat. What a fucking joke.
“He would,” Gabe said, not backing down. “I think he’d be grateful that you’ve been there for Bryn. That someone he was so close to loves her.”
I heard him, but I wasn’t sure I agreed. At least not entirely. I knew Derek would appreciate everything I’d done to help Bryn. I knew he’d want her to be happy. I just… “Fuck.” I clenched and unclenched my fists at my sides. “Why is this so hard?”
“Grief sucks, man.” Gabe leaned back against the bench on his side. “It fucking sucks.”
“Yes, it does,” I echoed.
We were quiet after that, finishing out our remaining time in the sweat box before it was on to the showers.
I might not agree with everything Gabe had said, but I was grateful for his support and his friendship.
I resolved to be a better friend, and not just a better teammate, to him as well.
I knew that I’d closed myself off after Derek’s death, and I knew that Gabe—like many of my teammates—had tried to be there for me.
I padded out to the stalls to grab my clothes and then stopped. Sometimes it still caught me off guard, seeing someone else’s name on the stall next to mine where Derek’s should’ve been.
The first skate, the first game, without him had been gut-wrenching. Even now, I still sometimes found it difficult to be at the rink without him. We’d shared so many memories together—both on and off the ice—and I felt closer to him at the rink than anywhere.
Gabe placed his hand on my shoulder, a silent show of support as we stared at where Derek’s name had been. Neither of us spoke of it again until we were headed out to the parking lot.
I thought about what Gabe had said. About Bryn. About Derek. There had been a period of time after Derek’s passing when I hadn’t been sure I could lace up my skates again and get on the ice. But then I’d think about how pissed Derek would be if he knew I’d stopped.
The fact that I kept playing the game we’d loved without him didn’t diminish the time we’d played together. Was it different? Yes. But he would’ve wanted me to continue playing.
And while my relationship with Bryn wasn’t comparable, the thought certainly gave me pause. Maybe there was something to what Gabe had said. Maybe my relationship with Bryn now—and the one I wanted to have with her going forward—didn’t have to take away from what they’d shared.
If losing Derek had taught me anything, it was that life was short. Don’t live with regrets. Even so, I was conflicted. I might not want to live with regrets, but I wondered what I’d regret more—pursuing Bryn and risking our friendship or always wondering.
Gabe seemed to have a plan for that, but I’d cut him off. And now that I’d calmed down some, I couldn’t stop wondering about what he’d been going to say.
“What did you mean earlier?” I asked Gabe, my mind circling back to our conversation. “About this being a ‘golden opportunity’?”
The corner of Gabe’s mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. “This is your chance to show Bryn what it looks like to be more than friends. To show her exactly how you’d treat her if she were yours.”
“I do,” I said, annoyed he didn’t see that.
Every day. Bryn was the first thing on my mind when I woke and the last when I went to sleep. We texted throughout the day. I brought her coffee at the hospital. I helped with stuff around the house.
“No.” Gabe’s tone was firm. “You do all the things a brother might do—take the car for repairs, fix things around the house.”
“I—” I opened my mouth to protest but then closed it.
Was that what Bryn thought? Was that how she saw me? As a brother? I cringed.
He pointed at me, a shit-eating grin splitting his face. “Now you’re getting it.”
“And you think the wedding is my chance to ‘show’ her?” I asked, using air quotes.
“Yes.” He nodded emphatically.
“I don’t know,” I hedged. All the same reasons for not pursuing her were still there. What if I ruined everything?
“Dude, it’s the perfect solution. Totally safe. If she’s not into it, apologize and say you got carried away with the vacation vibes or the romance of the wedding. But if she is…” He lifted his shoulder, a smirk on his face as if to say, “Well…”
It sounded great. In theory.
In reality, I had some major reservations.
“It feels…dishonest.”
“Think of it as a way to test the waters.”
Or to fuck myself over in the process.
“She’s not ready to date. And even if she were, who’s to say she’d be interested in me?”
“You’re joking, right?” He stared at me. “Of course she’s interested in you.”
I jerked my head back. “She told you that?”
“She didn’t have to, Fiz. It’s written all over her face. Both your faces, actually, any time you’re together.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets, my mind spinning.
I thought about the way she looked at me sometimes, her pupils darkening.
I thought about the things she did, the effort she put into my needs.
Sharing the dogs, making meals, immediately considering what I might need if I went with her to Anguilla.
My ex had assumed that the off-season meant I was off. Sheree had always griped that I’d had to continue training and focusing on my recovery. But Bryn not only understood my needs, she had gone out of her way to make sure they’d be met.
“Did she tell you she wasn’t ready to date?” Gabe asked.
“Not in so many words.” I wasn’t going to betray her trust by telling him how Bryn really felt about it.
“What exactly did she say?”
That she was sick of her family trying to set her up on dates. And she’d already had her love story.
He waved his hands in the air. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she was with the same guy for almost a decade. She hasn’t dated in a long-ass time. She probably doesn’t even remember what a date is.”
I rolled my eyes, though I knew there was some truth to what he said.
“I know you guys hang out a lot, and that’s great. But maybe you need to do a little more wooing.”
“Wooing?” I coughed on the word.
“My sister forced me to watch Bridgerton with her after her last breakup. It was brutal. Point is, wooing works.”
I chuckled. “Wooing,” I said again. “I’m not sure Bryn wants to be wooed.”
“Every woman wants to be wooed.”
“Right. And you know this because you’re such an expert,” I teased. Gabe had been single for as long as I’d been, maybe even longer.
“Let me ask you something,” Gabe said. “If something weren’t working for you on the ice, what would you do?”
“Ask for help from Price.” The goalie coach. “Practice more.”
“Yes, but…” Gabe huffed. “If someone kept scoring on you. Say, in the five-hole, would you just keep doing the same thing? Or would you change it up?”
“I’d change it up.” Obviously.
“So, with Bryn. Has your approach been getting the results you want?”
I frowned. We both knew the answer to that. I shook my head.
“Then maybe—” he clapped a hand on my shoulder and stood “—it’s time to shake things up.”
Gabe was right. It was time to shake things up. No more “just getting through.” No more regrets.