Chapter 5 #2
I haven’t opened up about Ian in a long time. I knew Jacob would ask, and even if he hadn’t, I would’ve told him eventually. I wouldn’t have allowed him to be blindsided.
“I’m not a big fan of weddings in general, but my ex-fiancé is the best man in this one.”
Jacob blinks, clearly surprised. I watch as he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before finally asking, “You were engaged? When was this? I had no idea.”
“Nobody knows, not really.” I lean back, closing my eyes briefly, as I dig into the part of my past that I’ve buried deep.
“We met when I’d just turned seventeen. I had a short break in the summer, so Mom and I went over to England for a week to visit her family.
There was this pub she loved to go to, and every Friday they would host a quiz night.
I didn’t really want to go, but it made her happy, so I went, and as soon as we walked in, I saw him.
” I glance out the window, focusing on the still water of the lake.
Hoping the calmness will ease the thundering of my heart against my ribs.
“I was drawn to him. I found out he was friends with my cousin, Samantha—she’s the one who’s getting married—and we started hanging out every day.
By the time I had to leave, we weren’t ready to be done.
It didn’t feel right to simply put the connection we had down to a summer fling and be done with it, so we did the long-distance thing.
He visited me in Toronto, and when I was drafted, he came to visit me in Chicago.
He was at university at the time, so once he graduated, he moved out here. ”
“You were drafted at eighteen, right?”
I raise a brow, the corner of my lips kicking up. “Have you been researching me, Jacob?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I have. I don’t really know you aside from you playing hockey with Blaine, so I needed to know the little things before I meet your family. You know, your star sign, where you grew up, and a bit about who you are. A boyfriend would know.”
I chuckle. He really thought this through.
“What’s my star sign?” I ask.
“You’re a Cancer, which is good because it means we’re a good match as I’m a Pisces.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ve got it covered.” He waves me off and takes another sip of his wine. “So, what happened after he moved to Chicago?”
“When I look back, it was when he moved here that the cracks started to show. We’d get into arguments over little things, and whenever I had team obligations, such as charity functions or dinner with the guys and their partners, he would get angry at me, even though he was invited, too.”
“Angry about what?”
A burning sensation travels through my veins. I’m angry at the memories I’ve kept suppressed for so long. “He would complain that I never had time for him, and it was unfair that I had to do all those things when I’d been on the road for so long.”
Jacob’s nose scrunches up. “But that’s part of your job! You have sponsors to keep happy, charities that need your name to help bring in donations. If he was invited, why didn’t he just go with you?”
I shrug.
I wish I had an answer for that, but he wouldn’t tell me. His go-to answer was that I wouldn’t understand. But how could I even begin to understand if he wouldn’t tell me what I needed to fix?
With a sigh, I confess, “I thought if I proposed it would show him I was serious about us, and it did get better for a while. We were going to get married in Mexico, and it was his idea to arrive at the airport separately. He said something about it being similar to spending the night apart before the ceremony, only he never showed up.”
My throat tightens, a dull throb forming at the base. This is the first time in a decade that I’m allowing myself to remember how I really felt that day.
The shock. The confusion. The humiliation.
The way my heart cracked in two. Left in a million pieces on the pristine O’Hare floor.
“I waited for hours by the check-in desk. I called and texted. Nothing. I stood there, listening to the final call for our flight. Security kept coming over to question me as I was pacing and getting distressed, until he finally texted me, saying he couldn’t do it anymore.
That he was done pretending to love me, and it was all over.
It was like my world imploded. I didn’t know what I did wrong or what happened for him to leave without saying goodbye.
It was like being seven again, coming out of hockey practice and realizing my dad wasn’t coming to pick me up. That he was never coming home.”
Fuck!
Why did I blurt that out? As if it wasn’t bad enough that I’d opened up my wounds to Jacob, I had to bring up the person I hated the most.
Unable to sit still any longer, I get up and walk to the sliding doors that lead onto the balcony. My muscles quiver with the anger flowing through my bloodstream. I flex my fingers before balling them into a fist and shoving them into the pockets of my sweatpants.
I’m too on edge to hear Jacob approaching. His soft breath against the bare skin of my arm startles me.
“I’m so sorry.” His voice cracks, thick with emotion.
“It is what it is,” I mumble between clenched teeth.
“Well, it shouldn’t be. Nobody should have to go through something like that, on both counts.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t want to see the look of pity in Jacob’s eyes. This is why I don’t tell people about Ian or my dad. They give me the same pitiful look, and it makes me so fucking angry.
“Ian is a dickhead for not having the courage to speak up and give you the opportunity to work on whatever he deemed was broken, but mainly for not appreciating the incredible man you are.” He runs his hand smoothly up my bicep, gently motioning for me to turn and face him.
The sunlight sparkles in those blue eyes, and just the sight alone makes me want to cave.
Jacob barely reaches my chin, but he stretches up to cup my jaw. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to resist leaning into his touch.
“But most of all, I’m sorry that the man who is supposed to love you unconditionally left you when you were too young to understand. Being a father is a gift. It’s a title you need to earn, and I’m sorry that he didn’t stick around to get to know the wonderful son he was given.”
Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I allow myself to get lost in the feel of his thumb caressing the stubble lining my jaw.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I open my eyes to see him smiling. “For what?”
“For telling me. I can sense that you struggle trusting people, and rightly so, given what you’ve been through, so thank you for telling me.” His eyes gleam as he pokes a finger into my chest. “Now, I’m going to be the best damn fake boyfriend ever. Little ol’ England won’t know what hit it.”
I snort, thankful he’s lightening the mood. For being the sunshine I need to help me escape the dark gray clouds. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yep,” he answers firmly, popping the P.
He drops his hand and although it was only a finger against my chest, I miss the contact instantly.
“And as for you, your first boyfriendly duty will be taking me for afternoon tea. I want the quintessential British experience. This needs to be the most unforgettable vacation.”
I’m sure I can make that happen.