Chapter 10
TEN
COLTON
SIX MONTHS AGO | COLUMBUS, OHIO
Remnants of pink lipstick were smeared around my mouth. There was probably still a bow in my hair. Sparkly blue nail polish stuck to the insides of my socks, but that tactile nightmare couldn’t distract me from the queasiness in my gut.
Dylan Sorrento’s daughters had given me a makeover while I talked to him about my captain troubles. I’d never felt so simultaneously full and empty.
I wanted what he had.
This fall, when I was wondering what the hell I was doing with my life, I asked the universe for a sign.
The universe delivered the very next day.
Coach called me into his office to offer me the captain role.
This was what I was meant to do: to be a leader in my career.
To help everybody feel good about themselves and make the Rusties the best team they could be.
But that didn’t mean it was easy. That’s where Dylan’s mentorship came in clutch. He was captain for several years when he played in L.A., and he was great about backing me up and giving me a nudge when I needed it.
On the surface, I had it all. I was captain at the highest level of my sport. I had a private chef who made sure I ate what I should to stay on top of my game. I had an apartment and all the things I could ask for.
But I was jealous as hell of what Sorrento had. Yes, he’d lost his captain role. But he had his wife. He had those three amazing kids. I knew married life wasn’t perfect. Dylan and Jeanine had been through some hell in the past few months, and seeing them come through it made me so happy for them.
And sad for myself.
I didn’t have a wife to balance out the challenges. I didn’t have kids to remind me that no matter how consequential a sports problem seemed, their little worlds were so big and important.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved my role, my big picture life. But what I really ached for was the small life. A wife to pat on the butt and kiss while I headed to load the dishwasher. Kids to cuddle and make messes and read stories to.
In their casual butt pats and kisses, I saw me and Violet.
I saw the life we wanted but didn’t get.
The life we dreamed about that one night in my twin bed at my parents’ house.
We were staying with them for spring break and enjoying all the wintertime joys Minnesota had to offer.
Violet snuck into my room and snuggled up in my bed.
Together, we dreamed. She said she wanted two kids, and I said I wanted three or more.
She admitted she didn’t want to be an MD.
Both of her parents were and they never had time for her and her sister.
She didn’t want her potential kids—our potential kids—to feel the loneliness that she felt growing up.
My loneliness was a different flavor. My mom was always around even if my dad was on the road, and she was so supportive. But I wanted siblings. I threw myself into my teams as a way to build the family I wished I had at home.
I took those emotional bonds with me wherever I went, to whatever team I was on. And now, I was reaping the rewards of lifting other people up.
But I mourned the lost time with Violet.
A life full of dance and hockey practices and kids that were hopefully as smart as their mom.
A life shared with the girl who had been in that bed with me, curled up on my chest. The joy of building a family with her.
Carrying her when the darkness got to her, and leaning on her when I got weak.
Doing the boring shit, but enjoying it that little bit more because I’d be doing it with her.
Nothing about my journey could have changed her leaving, because she was on her own journey with her own reasons. My chest ached with the weight of what we lost, of what she took when she left.
My text app chimed and some fucked up part of me hoped I’d summoned her by thinking about her, missing her so much. I looked down at my phone.
YULIA
Are you around to go out tomorrow?
A friend of my teammate, Dottie. He gave me her number months ago. In a dark moment, I texted her to see if she wanted to go out. It was half-hearted as hell.
But Yulia was contacting me. Violet wasn’t. I couldn’t keep living my life in delusion, waiting on something that might never happen.
There was one tiny glimmer of hope that kept me hanging on. At the end of the summer, Mom posted a picture of the two of us and Violet liked it. Not just the thumbs up, but a heart.
When I called Mom next, she said she’d talked to Violet. Mom, being her typical self, tried to get Violet to come to the lake house. Of course, Violet said no, but she gave up a little information. She was at her parents’ in Rhode Island to celebrate her sister’s pregnancy.
Mom told Violet she missed her, and Violet said it back. She told her she should call me, and Violet said she was waiting for some things to settle on her end. What did that mean? Was she seeing someone and about to end it? Seeing where it goes?
But the message was clear. She hadn’t closed the door all the way.
I opened my text app and hovered my thumbs over the keyboard to respond to Yulia. I swallowed and popped my jaw. I closed my eyes to try to come up with a response, but all I could see was Violet.
I’d waited two years. I’d tried, and failed, to date other women. There was nothing wrong with them other than the fact that they weren’t Violet, and I would accept no substitute. I never made it to second dates or kisses or anything like that. I just wasn’t satisfied.
I wouldn’t have felt comfortable telling those women about my dark moments and insecurities. I couldn’t picture my parents liking them. I couldn’t envision a life with them, a house and babies.
When I saw Violet at Stelle’s wedding, everything came flooding back. The late night snacks, the laughter in bed, the way she really listened to me. The way she accepted all of me. And all I wanted was all of her.
Those joys were too brief, but they still outweighed all the pain of losing her. I kept my head high, because if I looked down I’d see the icy, rushing waters below me that could sweep me under in a second. Dwelling would only lead me to my potential downfall.
And for a minute in college, it did. Things got pretty dark for me, and I had some of the scariest thoughts I’d ever had.
Thankfully, I was still on medication, and with a more developed brain, so less likely to give in to intrusive thoughts.
Some days were easier than others, but not a day went by where I didn’t wonder why she hadn’t come back, and if it was my fault.
I opened my message chain with Violet, reviewing everything.
We got along so well on that wedding weekend.
When I didn’t have Violet, I felt like a ribbon flapping in the wind.
When I had her, it felt like it was tied into a neat bow, everything in its place and as it should be. For that weekend, I was tied up.
Now I was a frayed ribbon, wind-worn and sun-bleached, waiting for the moment when she’d come back and make me whole again. I sat there in my car outside Sorrento’s house, wishing this waiting would come to an end. My lower lip trembled and I sniffled.
It wasn’t fair. I wanted Violet, and no one else would do.
Tears slid down my face, involuntary gasps leaving me.
For everything we’d endured. For everything we missed out on. For every moment that we should have been something and instead, we were nothing. For whatever kept her away from me.
One more year. I would wait one more year. If I didn’t hear from her in a year, I had to move on.
But for now, I looked up the closest tattoo parlor. I needed a reminder of who I was waiting for—and why she was worth every second.