Chapter 70
Izzy
I park my car in the driveway, silencing Taylor Swift midsong.
For the past two weeks, I’ve done nothing but throw myself into work and school. Finalizing plans for the wedding, going to
volleyball, writing papers—anything to keep from thinking about Nikolai too hard. He asked for space, and I’m trusting him
with that space, but that doesn’t stop reminders of him from peppering my life like ghosts. A doodle he slipped into my planner.
Rift headlining my “on repeat” playlist. The clothes he left behind in my room, the koala stuffies on my bed. The other day
in class, I pulled out a pen he lent me and felt heartache so acute, I couldn’t listen to a thing my professor said.
The distance is one thing. I could take the distance happily, if only we were talking. But it’s been two weeks since we spoke.
Two weeks since we so much as texted. If Katherine wasn’t updating me, I don’t know what I’d do.
I sit in my car for a long time before finally dragging myself into the house. I have homework to catch up on. A couple small
wedding-related fires to put out. I owe Mia a phone call.
All of that flees my mind the moment I see what’s on the television.
I know that Nik is playing every game—and doing well, according to Cooper—but I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch
any of them.
Tears well in my eyes as I stare at the broadcast. I drop my bag, shuffling to the couch. Cooper’s here, of course, and Penny, but so are Evan, Xander, and Mickey. I bite my lip, so the tears don’t spill over.
The camera pans to the Sharks bench. I press my fist to my mouth.
He looks good in teal. Really good.
“Shit,” Cooper says. “I’m sorry, Iz. I thought you had a game.”
“Just a practice.” I wipe quickly at my eyes. “How... how’s it going?”
“He scored his first goal,” Penny says, untangling herself from Cooper and hurrying around the couch to me. “From the blue
line.”
“It was fucking awesome,” Mickey says eagerly. He sees the expression on my face and clears his throat. “Uh, sorry.”
I lean my head on Penny’s shoulder as she strokes my hair. I haven’t spoken much about this break that Nik and I are on, but
it’s not a secret. He left, and I haven’t visited, even for a weekend.
“I got the chocolate chip cookies you like from Trader Joe’s today.”
“Thanks.” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m fine. I just hadn’t seen him in his new uniform.”
“It’s a good look on him.” She gives me a half smile. “Want to watch some of it with us? They’re winning.”
I draw my legs to my chest as I settle into the armchair, popping a cookie into my mouth. Maybe I’ll feel closer to him if
I watch him play. Maybe some of the hurt that I wish I wasn’t feeling will fade away.
“Do you think they’re making it in?” Evan asks Cooper.
Cooper’s answer, whatever it is, fades into the background as the camera pans away from the game, showing the bench again.
A bunch of guys I don’t recognize, and then Nik at the end, hair flopping over his eyes. He works his mouth guard with his
jaw as one of the coaches shows him something on a tablet.
He takes off his glove to point at something on the screen, and my heart stops.
He’s wearing the bracelet I gave him.
I can’t breathe. I get up, somehow, and manage to run upstairs without succumbing to the emotions beating a painful rhythm
in my chest. I put my hand over my mouth, trying to catch my breath without sobbing.
My bracelet, underneath his glove, just like it had been the night everything came crashing down. Somehow, I didn’t expect
to see it on him. Not like that, so casual, a mark of me from three thousand miles away.
It takes me a moment to notice Cooper standing a couple feet away.
I wrap my arms around myself, clearing my throat. “What?”
“You should be really proud of yourself.” He steps closer. His eyes are soft, too soft, with kindness. I don’t want to see
it right now. “You gave him the push to live his dream, Izzy. That’s huge.”
I stare at my feet. “I am proud of him.”
“You should be.”
“He deserves this so much.” I risk a look at my brother, hating how I can’t stop my runaway thoughts. “But what if...”
“What?”
I press my lips together, shaking my head. He might not trust himself yet, not with his emotions or with me, but I trust him.
Worrying myself to distraction about impossibilities won’t help.
“You can tell me.”
“What if he doesn’t... come back? What if he realizes he likes his new life better without me in it?”
The words leave me before I can tamp them down. After he called me on the way to the airport, I felt so certain that I’d see him again, but even the sight of that bracelet on his wrist isn’t enough to quell the thunderstorm in my heart. He might slip out of my life the way he did the first time, only now, it would be so much worse.
I used to tell myself that I could handle him becoming a stranger. I know better now. The memories run so deep, I wouldn’t
recover.
“Oh, Izzy,” Penny says as she reaches the top of the stairs.
“That’s not going to happen,” Cooper says firmly.
“You can’t know that.”
“Actually, I can.” He tugs me into a hug. “He’s doing this for you. He told me so.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Called him after his first game.”
I pull away, searching my brother’s eyes. “How did he seem?”
“Like he got his ass kicked.” There’s amusement in his voice, and a hint of envy. “But good, too. He had an appointment with
a therapist.”
“Katherine told me he found a good one.”
“Which means he’s working on himself,” Penny says.
“I know.” I wipe my eyes again. I’ve locked these thoughts away for a fortnight, throwing myself into distractions. Now I
can’t keep the emotions at bay. I adore him, and I understand why he did what he did, but if he doesn’t come back, if he realizes
I don’t fit into his new future...
It’ll still be worth it. If I lose him because of this, but he has his hockey career, then I’ll suck it up and be grateful.
I’ll put on a smile whenever I see him play, because I’ll know he’s doing what he loves, and healing in the process.
“He’s one of my best friends now, you know.” Cooper makes a face. “Still not sure how that happened.”
“Blame my dad,” Penny says wryly.
“You trust Nik, right?” He waits for me to nod before continuing. “I trust him, too. And I’m glad he’s with you.”
“He cares about you so much,” Penny adds. “I could tell that the moment he came to visit you in the hospital.”
I open the door to my bedroom, newly exhausted. I notice the fresh vase of flowers on my desk—Penny gives me a quick hug and
tells me to enjoy them, before she and Cooper give me privacy—but my attention lingers on Nik’s leather jacket, thrown over
the back of my desk chair. He left it behind, and I haven’t had the heart to put it in my closet.
I shut the door and slip on the jacket. I press my nose to the collar and breathe. It still smells like him, clean and masculine
and slightly spiced.
I shove my hands into the pockets as I sink onto the end of my bed. My fingers brush a piece of paper.
It’s a photograph—tiny, folded up twice. I smooth it out.
My eyes sting as I stare at it. It’s of me at the High Line, a purple coneflower tucked behind my ear. I’m beaming, arms flung
out, while the sunset fills the sky behind me. The High Line. Nik and I went there what feels like ages ago. I remember him
taking the picture. He said he’d delete it, but I guess he liked it enough to print it.
I flip the photograph over. The messy scrawl looping over the back is in Russian. The Cyrillic letters are still foreign to
me, even though I’ve started to look into Russian lessons, but after a few painstaking minutes with Google Translate, I manage
to work out a translation.
мой любимый
My favorite.