Chapter 19 Damon
NINETEEN
Damon
I balled my fists like I was about to throw a punch. Maybe I was. I hoped I wouldn’t, but there was no telling what could happen as I marched after Nick Kane.
I hadn’t seen him in a week. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gotten back at me for the last time.
“Hey,” I shouted, alerting several people strolling up and down the paved path along the lake.
Nick paused, his broad shoulders swaying as he turned around. His gaze locked onto me, sharp eyes burning with emotion, cheeks hollow, and hair disheveled. His face darkened when he recognized me from a distance, and he straightened his back as he braced himself for a fight.
I hoped I wouldn’t boil over so quickly.
Cold wind descended from the lake, lifting the collar of Nick’s coat, making his hair flutter, but he stood still with that mean, unforgiving expression on his face.
I walked up to him, coming close enough to receive the first punch.
“What do you want?” he asked.
I ground my teeth. “To hash it out once and for all.”
“One of us is gonna end up in that lake if we do,” he said.
“If you say so,” I replied.
He seemed to grow an inch taller, stretching out his muscles.
“But we don’t have to fight,” I said. “I’m sick of fighting. I’m sick of fucking hating you, Nick, but you’re not making it easy to change my mind.”
Nick shook his head. “Easy to say that now.”
I narrowed my eyes, his words making no sense. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“My brother doesn’t speak to me,” Nick said. Only then did I notice that his eyes were rimmed with red, but still as hateful as ever. “And my…boyfriend, I guess. Yes, that sounds about right. Well, he walked away, too. And now you want to bury the hatchet, huh?”
I frowned. “You had a boyfriend?”
Nick said nothing.
My head shook slowly. “You had a boyfriend, and you were still obsessed with me. No wonder he walked away.”
“It had nothing to do with you,” Nick said spitefully. “He took Seth’s side. I guess that makes sense. They’re roommate. Friends. Not like us, Damon. Not like the guys who can’t keep a friendship alive if the world depended on it.”
Silas? Fuck. It made so much sense now. I’d racked my brain for a week, wondering which of my teammates let it slip, suspecting them all after a semester of seeing Seth around the house. Silas.
“You had a guy, but that wasn’t enough,” I said. “Are you that butthurt over us? You act like we had something, Nick, when there was never anything there. You lost a guy because you can’t get over it.”
Nick took a step back from me, retreating for the first time since we’d fallen out years ago. “I’m so fucking tired of you, Damon.”
“Then let the fuck go,” I said.
Spite flashed in his eyes. “You broke my heart, Damon. You broke my heart because of Seth.”
“We were kids, Nick,” I said, wanting to shake him and maybe throw him into the lake to see if the freezing water would do something to snap him out of it. “We were teenagers. It was never gonna work.”
“You don’t know that,” Nick said. “Besides, that isn’t what matters. You broke up with me that summer. And then I had to watch you two sneak away summer after summer while I stayed behind.”
Yeah. That was true. I wouldn’t have had him near us if my life depended on it. We’d held each other’s hands a few times, kissed now and then, and I’d told him that I didn’t think we should do that anymore because it didn’t feel right. I’d been good, dammit. I’d done the right thing.
“At least I tried,” I said. “I didn’t string you along. I did not cheat on you. I walked away when I felt it was wrong. That is what you wanted, right? Honesty?”
Nick laughed once, a sharp, ugly sound. “You call that honesty.”
“What would you call it?”
“Cowardice,” he said. “You broke up with me because of Seth. You just didn’t have the guts to say it to my face.”
“We were teenagers,” I said. “We were confused. I didn’t even know what I felt yet.”
“You knew enough to sneak off with him,” Nick said. His voice cracked around the words. “Summer after summer. While I stayed home and pretended I didn’t see it.”
I stared at him. The lake behind him looked black, broken only by the wind cutting small waves across the surface. The cold bit through my jacket. None of it came close to the chill pooling in my chest.
“You think I did that to hurt you,” I said.
He glared at me. “You did.”
“No,” I said. My own anger flared, sudden and sharp. “I did it because I fell in love with him. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I wanted him in a way I never wanted you. I’m sorry that hurt you, Nick. I am. But that was always going to be the truth.”
He flinched like I had hit him. For a second, his mouth opened, then closed again. His hands balled at his sides. His shoulders shook once. “So that’s it,” he said quietly. “You loved my brother. Got it.”
“I didn’t say it to be cruel,” I said. My voice lowered without my permission. “I’m telling you what you already knew.”
His eyes flashed. “You don’t get it. You walked away from me, fine. You walked toward him, fine. But then you kept living your life like you were the only one who lost something.”
I frowned. “What do you think I lost, Nick?”
He sucked in a breath like he was trying not to choke on it.
“You lost nothing. That’s the point. You had scouts.
You had the team. You had Seth. You had everyone looking at you like you were some gift.
I got to be the bitter one. The jealous one.
The asshole ex. I had one thing, and it was hating you. That is what I had left.”
“That was your choice,” I said. “You could’ve moved on.
” Besides, I’d never had Seth. Seth had been a fleeting, wonderful, temporary thing in my life, there to be appreciated the way you appreciated a butterfly’s colorful wings.
You couldn’t take it for yourself. You had to simply pause and enjoy it.
“I tried.” His voice climbed again, raw and thin.
“I tried with Silas. He was good to me. He was patient. He listened. And I still found a way to drag you into every fight. Every insecurity. Every time I thought he was pulling away, I blamed you. I blamed you for messing me up. For making me trust nobody.”
The word hung between us.
“You did that,” I said. “Not me. Not Seth. You.”
His shoulders slumped. Some of the fight bled out of his posture. For the first time, he didn’t look like an enemy. He just looked tired.
“I know,” he said. “I know I did. I weaponized you so I would never have to admit I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” I asked.
He dragged a hand through his hair. The wind pushed it right back into his face. He didn’t bother fixing it. “Afraid of being second choice. Again. To you. To Seth. To hockey. To anything. It was easier to hate you than to look at myself and see what needed fixing.”
I swallowed. “You were never second choice.”
His eyes snapped to mine, sharp, disbelieving. “You just told me you never loved me.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t matter,” I replied. “I cared about you. I just didn’t know how to do it right. I was a kid who didn’t want to hurt anyone and ended up hurting everyone. You. Seth. Myself. That’s not some grand confession. It’s just the truth.”
He stared at me for a long time, chest rising and falling in harsh beats. The path around us had gone quiet. The people who had been out earlier had retreated, leaving us alone with the wind and the distant splash of water hitting the rocks.
“You changed,” Nick said finally. His voice had lost its edge. “Somewhere along the way. You grew up. I never noticed it because I was too busy seeing the person you used to be.”
“That works both ways,” I said. “I’ve been seeing you as the guy who ruined my chances with scouts and spread shit about me in high school. I didn’t see the guy who’s standing here now, telling me he had his heart broken twice and maybe played a part in both.”
His mouth twisted. “That is generous.”
“Truth usually is,” I said. “Doesn’t make it easy.”
He let out a shaky breath. “So what do we do now? Shake hands and pretend the last million years didn’t happen?”
“No,” I said. “We don’t pretend anything. I’m done pretending.”
He watched me, guarded. “Then what?”
“We stop using each other as an excuse,” I said. “You stop blaming me for everything that goes wrong in your life. I stop blaming you for all the shit I’m afraid to face. We stop acting like this feud is inevitable.”
“And Seth?” he asked.
My chest tightened. “Seth is my mess to sort out. Not yours.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You still want him back.”
I didn’t look away. “Yes.”
“You think I’m just going to bless that,” he said.
“No,” I answered. “I don’t need your blessing. I just need you to stop sabotaging every chance we might have. You don’t have to like us. You don’t have to support us. You just have to stop playing God with other people’s lives because you’re scared. And you let me tell Seth the truth.”
He flinched again, softer this time. “You really think I’m that bad?”
“I think you’re hurt,” I said. “And you’ve been hurting other people to feel less alone in it.”
Silence settled between us. The lake wind filled it. My fists were still clenched, but not out of a need to hit something anymore. It felt more like I was trying to hold myself together.
Nick looked past me, toward the streetlights. He seemed smaller now, not in size, but in certainty. Like some part of him had finally cracked open.
“I was jealous,” he said quietly. The words sounded heavy.
“At first, it was simple. You on the ice, doing everything I wanted to do but better. Then you and Seth. You picked him after telling me it didn’t feel right with me.
I watched you two disappear at the end of every summer and told myself I didn’t care, but I did.
I cared so much it made me sick. After a while, it became habit.
Hating you. Distrusting you. I didn’t even remember why. It was just what I did.”
I let the admission sink in. It felt like someone had finally named the monster that had been sitting between us for years.
“And now?” I asked.
He shrugged, shoulders dropping with the motion. “Now I’m alone. My brother won’t talk to me. Silas won’t answer my messages. I’m standing on a path by a lake, yelling at someone I’ve known half my life, and I’m so tired I can barely stand it.”
Something inside me eased. Not forgiveness. Not yet. Just the slightest loosening around a knot that had been there since we were kids.
“I’m tired, too,” I said. “Tired of being your villain. Tired of letting your anger decide my life. I want something different.”
He looked at me then, really looked, and I saw the effort it took not to scoff or lash out or build a new wall.
“You think you can fix it with Seth?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. The honesty tasted strange but right. “But I know I can’t even try if I’m still dragging this shit behind me. I’m done fighting you.”
He exhaled slowly. “So what, we’re nothing now?”
“We’re two people with a lot of history,” I said. “Some of it good, most of it bad. We can decide not to add any more to the pile.”
He huffed. “Real poetic, Pierce.”
“It’s the best you’re getting,” I said.
For a moment, his lips quirked like he might smile. It faded quickly, but it was there.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” he said.
“I didn’t ask you to,” I replied. “Just stop trying to ruin me every chance you get. I’ve done that to myself enough. Don’t need your help.” I thought of Seth up on that roof, eyes bright with hurt, voice steady as he let me go. My chest ached.
“He’ll come around,” I said. “He’s your brother.”
We stood there in the cold, the water moving in dark sheets behind him, the streetlights glowing behind me. It wasn’t a truce. Not exactly. It was more like calling a time of death on a battle that had gone on too long.
Finally, Nick stepped back. “I need to grow up,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “So do I.”
He turned and walked away. For once, I didn’t feel the urge to chase him or shout something after him. I watched him until the dark folded around him, then turned toward campus.
The wind hit my face again, sharp and clean. My hands slowly uncurled.
For the first time since the rooftop, I felt something that wasn’t pure despair. It hurt just as much, but it had a different shape.