35. Jamie
Chapter thirty-five
Jamie
All of Me
My truck rolls through Briar Cove beneath a sky brushed with the last colors of sunset.
For several miles, neither of us says a word.
Annette leans her head against the window, her hand resting lightly over mine on the center console. It’s the kind of silence that only comes after a really good day.
Comfortable.
Peaceful.
Complete.
Finally, she smiles. “I adore your parents.”
I laugh softly. “I was hoping you would.”
“They’re exactly what I imagined.”
“Really?”
She nods. “And somehow even better.”
The corners of my mouth lift. “Mom tends to have that effect on people.”
“Oh, she absolutely does.”
Annette turns toward me, her expression softening. “She made me feel like I’d been part of your family for years.”
I glance over for only a second. “That’s because she already thinks you are.”
Her smile changes then. Becomes smaller. More tender. “I’ve never met anyone quite like her.” Her thumb begins tracing slow circles across the back of my hand. “I kept watching your mom today. The way she remembered everyone's name. The way she noticed what people needed before they asked.”
I smile. “That's Mom.”
“So that's where you learned it.”
The words settle somewhere deep inside me. She isn’t finished. “And I kept thinking how much you’re like your father.”
“I’ve heard that my whole life.”
“The quiet part.”
I nod.
“The thoughtful part.”
Another nod.
“The way you listen before you answer.”
I smile. “Dad would appreciate hearing that.”
“But…” She tightens her hand around mine. “Your heart…” She shakes her head gently. “That’s your mom.”
I don’t answer right away. Not because I disagree. Because no one has ever said it quite that way before.
Finally, I smile. “I think she’d like hearing that too, and I think she’d pretend not to cry. And then she’d cry in the kitchen.”
I laugh. “Probably.”
***
The road curves gently as Briar Cove disappears behind us. Fields replace storefronts. Streetlights appear, glowing to life one by one as dusk settles over the highway. Annette looks out the passenger window. “We’re heading back toward Frostholm.”
“We are.”
“I thought we were going to the inn to drop me off.”
“We will.”
She waits.
I take a slow breath. “There’s one more place I’d like to show you first.”
She turns toward me. “Another part of your world?”
“The last part.”
Her smile comes easily. “I’ve loved every stop so far.”
“I know.”
She doesn’t ask where we’re going. I know she’s wondering. She just trusts me enough not to ask.
I squeeze her fingers. “You don’t even know where I’m taking you.”
“I don’t need to.”
“No?”
She shakes her head. “I trust you.”
The words hit harder than she realizes.
Trust.
I’ve spent most of my adult life protecting it.
Not because I didn’t want it. Because I couldn’t afford to give it to the wrong person.
I tighten my hand around hers.
“I’m glad.”
She studies me for a long moment. “You’re nervous again.”
“A little.”
“About showing me wherever we’re going?”
I nod.
“Why?”
I keep my eyes on the road.
“Because this isn’t just another building.”
She waits.
“It isn’t another memory.” My fingers shift beneath hers. “It isn’t another story from my childhood.”
The lights of Frostholm begin glowing in the distance, but I barely notice them.
“This is the one part of my life I’ve never really let anyone see.”
“You’ll understand in a few minutes.”
Annette’s expression softens. She doesn’t press. She simply laces our fingers together again.
“Okay.”
That’s all she says. Okay.
As though trusting me is the easiest thing in the world. I’m not sure I’ve done anything to deserve that kind of faith. But I spend the rest of the drive hoping I can.
The Frostholm skyline rises ahead of us, bright against the darkening sky.
I take the downtown exit.
Annette watches the familiar streets slide past before her brow furrows.
“This isn’t the way to your condo.”
I smile to myself. “No.”
A few blocks later, we turn into one of the newest neighborhoods in the city.
Tree-lined streets.
Private entrances.
Quiet elegance.
Annette looks from one beautiful building to the next.
“Jamie…”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of Frostholm.”
“Most people haven’t.”
She studies another building as we pass. “I didn’t even know these were here.”
“We’re almost there.”
My pulse picks up as a security gate appears ahead. It slides open before I even stop.
Annette looks at me. “You didn’t press anything.”
“I didn’t need to.” The truck rolls into the underground parking garage.
She looks around. Then at me. Then slowly back toward the windshield.
Her brow furrows.
“Jamie…”
I pull into a reserved space beneath a sign that reads: PENTHOUSE
I turn off the engine.
Annette stares at the sign for several seconds before looking at me.
Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Why does your parking space say penthouse?”
A smile threatens the corner of my mouth. “Because it’s mine.”
Silence. Annette blinks.
“You own…the penthouse?”
“Yeah.”
Her stare sharpens.
“I stay here during the season when we have back to back games or practices and I can’t get to my cabin.”
Another beat passes.
“Jamie Walker.”
“Yes?”
“I have so many questions.”
“I know.”
She reaches for the door handle. “And you’re answering every single one.”
I laugh as I climb out of the truck. The elevator waits at this end of the private garage.
There are no buttons beside it. Only a fingerprint scanner.
Annette notices immediately. She glances at me. “You weren’t kidding.”
“No.”
I press my thumb against the glass. A green light flashes, and the doors slide open.
She steps inside, looking around at the polished wood walls.
“This feels unnecessarily mysterious.”
I follow her in. “You’re about to discover it’s mostly just an elevator.”
She laughs softly as the doors close. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The elevator begins its quiet climb.
Annette looks at the walls. Then at me. Then back again.
“You’ve managed to surprise me.”
“I’ve been trying not to.”
She reaches over and straightens the collar of my shirt.
“You’re nervous again.”
“Yeah.”
Her hand lingers against my chest. “I’ve noticed something about you.”
“Oh?”
“You only get nervous when something matters.”
I don’t answer. Because she’s right.
A soft chime sounds. The elevator doors open directly into my penthouse.
Warm light spills across hardwood floors. Annette takes one step forward and stops.
For a moment, she simply stands there, taking it all in.
Warm wood.
Books everywhere.
A worn leather chair beside the fireplace.
A blanket folded neatly over one arm.
Family photographs arranged across the shelves.
Then the windows. Floor-to-ceiling glass stretches across the far wall, revealing Frostholm glowing beneath the evening sky.
The city.
The lake.
The arena in the distance.
Nothing in the room has been chosen to impress visitors. Everything has been chosen to make one man feel at home.
Annette releases the breath she’s been holding. “Oh.”
I watch her carefully. “Good oh?”
“The best kind.”
She walks farther into the room, her fingertips brushing the back of the sofa.
She studies the shelves. The artwork, the piano near the windows, the kitchen beyond the living room.
Then she stops in front of the photographs.
My parents. Foundation kids. Teammates.
One picture is of Toby asleep in a chair with popcorn spilled across his lap.
Annette laughs. “You framed this?”
“He hates that I did.”
“I love that you did.”
She continues studying the wall.
“There aren’t any magazine photos.”
“No.”
“No championship displays.”
“No.”
“No trophy room.”
“I’ve already seen those.”
She turns toward me. “This…” Her smile softens. “…looks exactly like you.”
The knot in my chest loosens. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
She crosses the room until she’s standing in front of me.
“I expected luxury.”
I glance around. “I suppose it is.”
“No.”
She shakes her head. “I mean, I expected something colder.”
I understand. People assume wealth should look a certain way.
“I wanted somewhere quiet.”
She glances around the room again.
“You built a sanctuary.”
The word catches me. Sanctuary.
That’s exactly what it became.
It’s the one place where Captain Jamie Walker never had to exist.
Only Jamie.
Annette reaches for my hand. “So…”
She looks toward the windows. “You’ve definitely explained where you’ve been hiding.”
“A little. But…” Her gaze returns to mine. “I don’t think this is the real reason you brought me here.”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
I lead her toward the windows overlooking the city. For a long moment, I stand there beside her.
Looking out across Frostholm.
Trying to figure out how to begin.
***
Finally, I turn toward her. “The penthouse isn’t the secret.”
Her expression stills.
“It’s just where the secret lives.”
Silence settles between us. Then Annette steps closer and slips her fingers through mine. “I’m listening.”
I close my eyes for only a second.
There’s one more part of me she hasn’t met yet.
And somehow, showing it to her feels harder than telling her I loved her.
When I open my eyes, she’s still there. Waiting. Trusting. I draw a slow breath.
“There’s something about my life almost nobody knows.”
Her fingers tighten around mine.
“And tonight…”
I meet her gaze.
“…I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.”
***
I don't say anything for a long moment.
Annette has always been patient with my silences. She never rushes to fill them or mistakes them for distance. Instead, she simply stands beside me, our hands linked, watching the lights of Frostholm shimmer beyond the glass.
Finally, I nod toward the sitting area.
"Come here."
She follows me to the sofa without a word. We sit facing one another, knees almost touching. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the city beyond the windows.
"I've wanted to tell you this before," I admit. "I just couldn't figure out how."
Annette smiles gently.
"You know, most people start with, 'There's something you should know about me.'"
"I considered that."
"What happened?"
"I realized it sounded like I was about to confess to murder."