2. Katerina
Katerina
I wiped a towel across my forehead, catching my breath as the last song of our spin class faded out. My legs were warm, heavy, and pleasantly exhausted, the exact feeling I chased whenever work stress started piling up.
"If we don't get carbs in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to pass out on this studio floor," Stacey grunted.
Robin laughed, tossing her water bottle into her gym bag. "Something new or the deli down the street?"
"Deli," I voted, slinging my duffel over my shoulder as we headed out into the crisp autumn air. "They have those sourdough turkey sandwiches that make me happy-dance."
Five minutes later, we were squeezed into a corner booth, sandwiches, soup, and a few of the world's best deli pickles between us. I checked my phone, a habit I’d gotten into over the last two weeks since coming back from the team's road trip.
A text popped up on my screen:
Trent
Hey. Wrapped up at the site early today. Heading over to your place now. What time will you be home?
I stared at the screen, a small smile tugging at my lips, though a familiar pulse of confusion rattled right behind it.
"What's that look?" Robin asked, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Is that the boyfriend?"
"Fiancé-in-training, if you ask me," Stacey chimed in with a wink.
"He's not… we’re not there," I said quickly, typing a fast reply:
Having lunch with the girls, and then I have some paperwork to finish up. I’ll be home in about three hours.
I set the phone face down. "He's just... he's been acting differently since I got back from the road trip."
Stacey leaned her elbows on the table, instantly intrigued. "Different how? Good different or 'he did something nasty and is a guilty asshole' different?"
"Good. Really good," I admitted, tracing the condensation on my water glass. "Trent is suddenly so attentive. He shows up just to bring me food between my appointments with the players. He asks how my day was, texts me throughout the afternoon... he’s just so present."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "And this is a problem, why?"
"It’s not a problem, it’s just... it’s not him," I said softly, trying to articulate the shift.
"Trent isn't an overly affectionate guy.
He's usually pretty quiet, kind of lives inside his own head, always thinking about work and how to improve on things so his mom and dad can step back a bit. Normally, he’s only really expressive or physical when we're behind closed doors…. Otherwise, he’s just reserved. "
Stacey giggled. "Kat, you were gone for two solid weeks surrounded by a plethora of hot, sweaty, professional hockey players. The man realized he needed to step up, show you how he feels. He caught the love bug!"
"I don't know," I murmured. "When we started dating, I thought we had an unspoken agreement.
He was busy building his family business; I was putting in sixty to eighty-hour weeks getting my footing in as lead physio this year.
I never asked him for help; he never offered, and it worked.
It was low pressure. We have never even discussed the future. "
"You put yourself through six years of university and built a career in a male-dominated field without asking anyone for a dime, Kat," Robin said softly, her expression turning gentle. "You're used to doing everything on your own. It's okay to let the man step up."
"We haven't even said 'I love you,'" I blurted out. "Not once. Ten months, and neither of us has dropped the words."
"Some men don't show love with words, Kat," Stacey said, leaning across the table and placing her hand over mine. "They show it with actions. He’s showing you. He missed you, he realized how much he cares about you, and now he’s trying to take care of you.
Stop analyzing it with your doctor brain. Let him love you."
Her words hung in the air… could I do that? Just let things evolve, not overthink it....
Let him love you.
I'd spent my whole life being self-reliant, keeping my guard up and making sure I never depended on anyone who could let me down. Was I overthinking this? Was I searching for flaws in Trent just because I was afraid to let myself get comfortable?
Stacey and Robin were both single, but still avid romance lovers. Which led me to wonder: was I jaded, or were they wearing rose-colored glasses?
When I pulled into my driveway three hours later, Trent’s muddy work truck was already parked in front of my garage.
I unlocked the front door and walked into the foyer, greeted by the high-pitched sound of a drill from down the hall. I walked into the kitchen to find Trent on his knees in front of the sink, his dark hair messy, a smudge of dirt across his cheek.
He looked up as I walked in, his dark brown eyes softening instantly.
Trent set the drill down and stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans before stepping straight into my space.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against his chest for a slow, lingering kiss that left me slightly breathless.
"Hey," he murmured against my lips. "How was spin class?"
"Good," I smiled, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. "Tough. What are you doing down there?"
"The cabinet door was hanging loose," he said, gesturing to the sink base. "Noticed it before you left for the road trip. Figured I’d fix the hinge so you don't have to deal with it."
My heart gave a soft, unexpected flutter. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to," he replied, moving his hand to rub my lower back gently. He searched my face, his brows pulling together in that tight, intent way he’d been looking at me lately. "How are you feeling? You must be exhausted. You've been pushing yourself really hard since you got back."
"Honestly, I feel great," I laughed softly.
"Working out always gives me an adrenaline boost." I paused, looking into his eyes, remembering Robin's advice to let him in.
I usually keep my work stress to myself, but I tried opening up.
"Though, work has been a lot this week. Two of the defensemen are dealing with lingering groin strains, and management is breathing down my neck to clear them for Friday's game. "
Trent’s hand stilled on my shoulder. His eyes flickered with something intense, almost protective.
"You shouldn't be dealing with all that stress right now," he said, his voice unusually thick. He glanced toward the hallway. "Why don't you go take a break? Can I run you a bath?"
I blinked, taken aback by the gesture. "A bath?"
"Yeah. Epsom salts, warm water. Relax for an hour." He looked at me nervously, squeezing his neck, his familiar tell when he was anxious. "Is... is a bath okay?"
I smiled; was he nervous because the girls were right? He is trying to show me he loves me and is stumbling around blind because I am not meeting him halfway?
I went up on my toes, gave him a kiss, and said, "A bath sounds incredible, Trent. Thank you."
While the water ran, I stripped out of my clothes and sank into the tub, letting the hot water soak away the tension in my muscles.
Out in the hallway, I could hear him moving around. The clinking of pots, the fridge door opening and closing. I leaned my head back against the rim of the tub, listening to the soft sounds of Trent making himself at home in my space.
Some men show love with actions, not words.
Maybe Stacey and Robin were right.
Maybe Trent was just bad with words.
Maybe his way of saying I love you wasn't a grand declaration, but fixing my cabinet, running my bath, and cooking dinner after a long day.
When I finally wrapped myself in a plush robe and stepped out into the kitchen, the room smelled amazing. Trent had seared salmon in a skillet and was tossing a fresh green salad at the island.
He looked up, a rare soft smile breaking across his features as he took me in. He walked over, kissed my damp forehead, and pulled out a chair for me at the island.
"Sit," he said gently. "Dinner's ready."
I sat down, looking at the plate he set before me, then up at the handsome, hardworking man standing in my kitchen, trying so hard to care for me, and the last lingering wall of my defense melted away.
I reached out, wrapping my hand over his wrist. "Thank you, Trent. Really. I love… it."
He looked down at our joined hands, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles, his eyes filled with what looked a lot like love.
"Always, Kat," he said softly. "I'm right here. You know that, right?"
There were so many emotions in his dark eyes, I couldn’t answer. So instead I smiled, nodded and took a forkful of the meal he prepared for me, completely ready to let myself fall.