Chapter 18
Vanessa
eighteen
. . .
My eyes are red and bloodshot when I get into work the next morning. Jacky takes one look at me and hauls me into her office.
“Do I have to maim somebody?” she demands.
I shake my head. “Only if that somebody is me.”
My boss frowns. “Explain.”
“I think I broke my own heart.”
“I heard about you and Sven on the news,” Jacky says carefully. “It’s all over social media.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrug one shoulder. “Turns out we’re in very different places.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Oh?”
“I just need some space.” My eyes well with tears again. Angrily, I rub them away. “He wants marriage and babies and forever, and I?—”
My voice catches.
“Do you not want those things? Or do you want them with someone else?” Jacky asks.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I admit: “I don’t know that I’m cut out for it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“My parents split up when I was three years old.”
“Okay… lots of people get divorced. It’s not the end of the world. I know you probably don’t want to think about you and Sven getting divorced, but?—”
I shake my head. “I don’t know if I even believe in the happily ever after fallacy anymore. I don’t get to have that.”
“Vanessa…” Jacky reaches for my hand. “You can have that. You can have anything you want.”
“The new assistant equipment manager…”
“Did he do something? Do I need to get HR involved?” she demands.
“He… we dated. In college.” I rub at my eyes again. “We were together for two and a half years, and we were talking about getting married after I graduated so I could travel with him when he signed with the league.”
Jacky watches me, guarded. She lets me take my time to regroup.
“He dumped me. On my twenty-first birthday.”
“That cocksucker,” she hisses.
I shrug. “Well, yeah. I hadn’t talked to him until he started working here. And now every day I have this physical reminder of one of the worst times in my life, and?—”
“But you have Sven,” Jacky interrupts.
“That doesn’t make the pain Robby caused go away. It only compounds it. Because Sven is talking about the same things, but who’s to say that whatever I did to make Robby run away won’t happen again?”
“Or maybe,” she says gently, “It had nothing to do with you.”
Wait, what?
“He would have been, what, twenty-one, twenty-two? And about to go into a professional hockey career?” Jacky shakes her head. “That’s a lot to deal with. Hell, half of our players can’t keep a relationship intact, and of the ones that do, they’ll split up two years after retirement.”
“See? It’s not meant to be.”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“So?”
“I’ve never seen a man more in love,” Jacky says. “He practically worships the ground you walk on. And this was before anyone knew about you two.”
I purse my lips. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Trust me, it is.”
“Whatever.”
“The point stands, whatever happens down the line, he’s clearly in love with you now. Why are you worried about future pain when you can be happy for now?”
I swallow. “I didn’t see it coming last time. I don’t want to be caught off guard again.”
“Oh, Van…” Jacky squeezes my hand.
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
She laughs. “And if you’re not, that’s fine, too.”
“Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me?”
Deflection. It always works, sixty percent of the time.
“I wanted to check in, make sure you’re okay,” Jacky says.
“I’m fine,” I lie again.
She opens her mouth.
“I’d like to get to work, if that’s okay. I could use the distraction.”
She nods. “Let me know if you need anything. The team will be in soon for film review. If you want to head out early, we can make that happen.”
I give her a teary smile. “Thanks. But I don’t need that. I’m fine.”
Heading back to my desk, I get a look at myself in the reflection of my computer screen. My eyes are red and swollen from crying, my face is splotchy without makeup, and my hair is stringy and greasy because I didn’t have the energy to wash it. No wonder Jacky was worried.
Still, I have work to do, so I put my head down and get to work. I need the distraction.
About an hour in, a delivery arrives, and Jacky sets a small bag on my desk.
“What’s this?”
She shrugs. “It says Vanessa Morgan on the note.”
It’s a small brown paper bag from a bakery in Beacon Hill. Intrigued, I open it to find two perfect chocolate croissants and a small folded note.
V— Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you’re ready.
Though it’s not signed, I know exactly who it’s from.
The last thing I expect is for Robby fucking Andrews to come to my desk. What the hell kind of game is he playing? Can’t I get a freaking moment of peace from the memory of that douchebag without having to see his fucking face?
Robby is wearing a team staff t-shirt and athletic pants. He moves stiffly, and for a brief moment, I feel a flicker of concern before I lock it away. Is he hurt? Did he aggravate his knee injury?
I shouldn’t care about him. He’s nothing to me.
But…
We were close once. At one time, I thought he was my forever.
“Hi, Nessie,” Robby says. He puts his arm over the top of my cubicle, and his familiar scent wafts toward me. “Can we talk?”
“Why? There’s nothing to talk about.” I keep my focus on my computer screen, even though I haven’t been able to pay attention since he walked into the back office two minutes ago.
“I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee,” he says. He clears his throat. “Off site, if that’s possible.”
“I’d really rather not.”
“We need to talk,” he says firmly. “Clear the air.”
“There’s nothing to clear.”
He sighs. “Nessie…”
I flinch. “Don’t call me that.”
“You never used to mind.”
“Yeah, well, a lot has changed.”
“I suppose so.” He coughs. “Please. I’ll stop, I’ll leave you alone. I just really think we need to talk.”
My stomach twists. The last thing I want is to relive those memories again and again.
“What do you want to talk about? You dumped me in college, I have a new boyfriend now, and I’m happy. Why the fuck do you think I still think about you?”
Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.
Because I do. All the fucking time. Not in an “I miss him” kind of way, but in a “why the hell am I so unlovable?” doubt spiral.
I mean, Bex and Elsy love me. Wyatt is practically my brother, too. I might even buy that Sven loves me, misguided as he may be.
Since Robby broke up with me on my birthday, I haven’t had a relationship that lasted more than one night. My friends are supportive and always there for me. I don’t need anyone else.
Except…
“Please,” Robby says quietly. “I’d really like to talk to you.”
“Ugh. Fine.” I power down my computer and lean into the aisle. “Jacky, I’m headed out.”
“Good. Don’t forget you have the next few days off, too,” she says from her open office.
Wait. What? That’s news to me.
“But—“
“We have a three-game homestead. Scott is on shift, and I’ll be backup. Enjoy the time off, because when you get back, you’re on the road out to Austin and New Orleans.”
“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”
Shoving my stuff into my work bag, my eyes fall to the bakery bag. I devoured those chocolate croissants, but the note is still on the corner of my desk.
He’ll give me the space I need. Great. Fine.
So why do I feel so hollow?
Robby jerks his head toward the elevator, and dutifully I follow him.
“Why off site?” I ask as he punches the button for the ground floor.
He shakes his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually want my personal life to be gossip fodder,” he says.
I snort.
“Also, I think it would be better if we can’t be overheard or interrupted, and we might need some privacy.”
“Privacy? For what? Do you seriously think I’m going to screw you for old times’ sake?”
He scoffs. “Trust me, Nessie, that’s not what I’m after.”
My hands on my hips, I turn to him. “Excuse me?”
He opens his mouth to argue, then stops. “Let’s get some coffee and chat.”
There’s a cafe across the street, and we walk in silence out of the training facility and down the street. It’s chilly out, and I pull my coat tighter around me like I can magically wring out more warmth from the fabric.
At the coffee shop, I order a latte and Robby gets a green tea before he heads toward the comfortable armchairs by the window.
He opens his mouth, then pauses. Starts again, then stops.
“Spit it out,” I snap. “I don’t have time for this.”
Robby sighs. “What I’m going to tell you—this is in no way your fault, and it has nothing to do with you. I just think you deserve an explanation.”
My eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”
His eyes flick to mine. “I’m gay.”
Uh… what?
“I’m gay,” he repeats. “I’m out to friends and family, but not in the league, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around quite yet.”
“But—we?—”
“I didn’t know until after we broke up,” he rushes to admit.
I cross my arms. “Yeah. You want to talk about that? On my fucking birthday?”
He winces. “I was a dick.”
“Yeah, you were, fuckhead,” I snap.
Robby shakes his head. “I deserve that. I do.”
His words echo in my head. He’s gay. He’s not interested in me. Maybe he never really was.
“So what was I? Just a beard?”
“No. Not at all.” He sips from his tea, scratching at his jaw. “A few weeks before… everything, we went to dinner with my parents. Remember?”
I do. They asked about my intentions with their son and our future relationship plans, most likely to find out if I was a gold digging whore or if I actually had feelings for him. His parents were not kind to me when we got together, and they didn’t warm up to me over the two and a half years we were together. They didn’t like the idea of me with their son, holding him back from the sport he loved for the sake of my love for him.
Because I did. I loved him.
Past tense. Loved.
“You told them we wanted to get married.”
He winces. “I did, yeah.”
“So what changed?” I demand.
“My mom offered me her diamond ring, and I... well, I freaked out,” he admits. “I couldn’t handle the pressure of getting married. It was overwhelming. Especially with the league looming over me.” He blows out a breath. “For two weeks, I convinced myself it was just cold feet. I planned this perfect proposal.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“I planned to propose on your birthday,” Robby blurts.
“And instead you dumped me.” My voice is hard. My heart is harder.
“I thought it was just the idea of marriage in general,” he continues. “It took me about a year to realize it was the thought of marrying a woman that terrified me.”
My eyebrows go up.
“I never really… I wasn’t interested in guys, or so I thought. I admired them, and I looked up to them, but I never wanted to fool around with them. And everyone looks in the locker room, even if they say they don’t.” He blushes. “I… well, I had this teammate, and we… well, I figured out pretty quickly that I was into dudes, and after a bit of soul-searching, I put the pieces together.”
“But we… I mean, you and I…” I wave my hands.
“We had sex. We had a lot of sex,” he says bluntly.
“Yeah. That.”
“All I knew was something wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what it was,” Robby says.
“So you’re gay? You’re not bi?”
He blows out a breath. “I had those two girlfriends in high school, and you and I were together, but I wasn’t… women never caught my eye the same way. And now that I’ve been with a few men, I can see the absence of a real connection with anyone previous.”
I swallow. “Is this because of me? Because of something I did?”
“Nessie, no. No, no.” He reaches for my hand, and to my surprise, I let him take it. “I’ve always been gay, I just didn’t know it yet. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“But—“
“I was born this way. I always have been, and always will be gay, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change that.” He shakes his head. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s kind of a relief, really, to figure out this part of me that was missing for so long.”
My throat is dry, and I take a sip of my latte, but it’s too hot and it burns my tongue.
“Larsson is a good guy,” Robby says, shifting the subject.
I look away. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“He and I had a chat the other day, and it made me realize you needed to know my truth,” he continues. “I don’t have romantic feelings for you, but a part of me will always love you, and now that I have you back in my life, I don’t want to lose you again.”
My stomach lurches. “Uh, what?”
“We were good together. As a couple, yeah, we had our faults. But if I were attracted to women, you’d be everything I’d want. Fuck, you were everything I wanted.”
“But that changed.”
“But I realized what I needed in a partner,” he corrects. “And it has absolutely nothing to do with you or anything you did, it was all me. It just took me some time to figure it all out.”
“So… what now?”
“Larsson loves you,” he says.
I roll my eyes and look away.
“He loves you, and I saw the look on your face when he started talking about marriage on the plane last night.”
“Yeah. You’re the one that brought it up.”
“That was meant to be a teasing joke,” he says, like that absolves him. “I honestly intended it to be a lighthearted comment until he made it all serious.” He squeezes my hand, and I start, because I hadn’t realized he was still holding it. “Nessie, you are incredibly important to me, and a part of me will always love you.”
I choke.
“I don’t have romantic feelings for you, I don’t want to break up your relationship, I don’t want to win you back. I just want you to not hate me.”
Staring out the cafe window, I try to recalibrate.
Because he’s right. I did hate him. I do hate him. It’s been years, but I’m still carrying around the fresh hurt of a broken heart all the fucking time, and nothing I’ve ever been able to do has taped it back together again.
“I’m in Boston for the long term,” Robby continues. “Hopefully, at least. I like the team. I want to stay here. But if you want me gone, at the end of the season, I’ll put in applications with the league. I can?—”
“You don’t have to leave.”
The words come out before I realize I spoke them.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “You don’t have to leave on account of me, at least.”
“Nessie…”
“I don’t know that I can forget what happened,” I tell him slowly. “But eventually, I think I’ll be able to find a way to forgive you.”
Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But hopefully, it will be sometime soon.
“Larsson loves you,” he says again. “He’s serious about you. I just didn’t want to be the reason that you keep him at arm’s length.”
I open my mouth.
“I know you, Nessie. He blindsided you last night.”
Quietly, I nod. “I wasn’t expecting it.”
“I hope we can be friends again,” Robby says. “I really want us to be friends. Whatever that looks like. I just want you in my life.”
Swallowing my fears, I meet his eyes. “We might be able to make that happen.”