Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Scout
Proud Mary is packed with the Sunday brunch crowd.
Sable managed to snag us a corner table anyway because she knows the owner.
She's wearing perfectly tailored black pants and a silk blouse that probably costs more than my rent.
I'm in yesterday's leggings and one of her cashmere sweaters that she lent me.
A server drops off our drinks. Sable ordered a matcha latte with oat milk. I got the creamiest coffee on the menu and asked them to make it a double. This place is somewhere at the juncture between snooty and hipster. Fine by me as they make a mean bananas foster latte.
"So," Sable says, stirring her matcha with precision. "Silas Huxley is StatMan."
"Yep."
"And you didn't know for months."
"Nope."
She takes a delicate sip of her drink. "That's really fucked up, Scout."
"I know." I take a long drink of coffee. "I'm so angry at him. But I also miss him, which makes me feel pathetic."
"You're not pathetic." Sable examines the menu even though she always orders the same thing here. "You're in love. Those are different things."
"Love shouldn't make me this stupid."
"Love makes everyone stupid. That's kind of the whole deal." She signals the server and orders the avocado toast with poached eggs and microgreens. I get the breakfast burrito because I need actual sustenance. "Have you figured out what you want to do?"
"Not really." I wrap my hands around the warm coffee mug. "I keep going back and forth. One minute I want to forgive him. The next minute I want to throw all his protein powder in the trash and move to Canada."
Sable laughs. "Both are valid options."
"The thing is, I keep thinking about all those conversations. How open I was with StatMan. I was vulnerable. And the whole time it was Silas." I set my mug down. "Did he ever say anything about being StatMan?"
"I can't answer that. You know I can't. HIPAA and shit."
"I know. You’re a good doctor." Our food arrives and I take a bite of the burrito. It's loaded with eggs and cheese and perfectly spiced. "I just want to know why he did it. He was just more open as StatMan. He told me a lot of things that I have trouble imagining he’d say to my face."
Sable pauses, her fork poised in the air. "And what does that tell you?"
I consider the question. "That the problem isn't that he was a different person. It’s that he felt like he needed to hide behind a screen to be himself with me."
"That sounds right." Sable reaches across and squeezes my hand. "The question is whether you can live with that. Do you need him to be capable of vulnerability without the distance?"
"I do need that. I can't be in a relationship where he only opens up through a screen."
"Then you need to tell him that." Her voice is gentle but firm. "When you're ready, I mean. You tell him exactly what you need from him if you two are going to work."
"What if he can't give me that?"
"Then you'll know. And you'll make a decision based on reality, not fear." She pauses, thinking carefully. "I’m going to try to avoid landmines here. I’m just talking about Silas in general, as a person. But for what it's worth, I think he’ll give you everything he’s capable of giving.
Maybe more than that. But he's going to need help. "
"He mentioned calling you. He said he was going to therapy."
Sable nods, taking another precise bite of her toast. "He did. I have to refer him to someone else, obviously. Conflict of interest. But I gave him Dr. Max Liehrstahl's information. Max is excellent with athletes who struggle with emotional vulnerability. 90% of them do."
"You think he's serious about getting help?"
"I can’t really say that." She stands and refills both our coffee cups. "But I can tell you things that I notice about you. Your patterns, your fears, the things you bring into relationships." She sets her fork down and looks at me directly. "You want to hear them?"
"You know I always want to hear your advice. Hit me."
"You have a tendency to accommodate. You make yourself smaller so other people are more comfortable.
You learned it from Mom, watching her disappear into taking care of Dad.
" Sable's voice is matter-of-fact, clinical.
"And with Enzo, you did the same thing. You became what he needed instead of asking for what you needed. "
The words land like boulders thrown from the Empire State building. "I know."
"The question isn't just whether Silas can be vulnerable. The real question is whether you can hold your ground. Can you demand honesty and openness without folding the first time it gets uncomfortable?"
"I left, didn't I? That's not folding."
"Leaving was good. The hard part is returning." She meets my eyes. "Scout, you love him. That's obvious. But love isn't enough if you're going to sacrifice yourself to keep it."
I heave a sigh. "I know that too."
"Good." She smiles. "Then you're already ahead of where you were with Enzo. Who, by the way, is a worthless piece of garbage."
“So you’ve said. You haven’t had a nice thing to say about him since I told you I was leaving him.”
Her eyes flash with amusement. “I thought he was a sack of shit before you got married, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to judge.”
“Well, you have my permission to tell me if you think that I’m crazy, rushing into the arms of another hockey player.”
She smiles and slowly shakes her head. “Even if I thought you were being a teensy bit impetuous, I would never stand between you two. You’ve wanted him since college. Now, you finally get him. I just hope he treats you better than he has.”
I screw my face up. “Silas is wonderful, except… this whole thing.”
Sable nods. “There’s usually something.”
We finish brunch talking about lighter things. Her upcoming work trip. Dad's adjustment to his new retirement community. The latest Coven drama involving Mollie and Thorne's increasingly obvious tension.
By the time Sable pays the check (she insists as she always does), the sun is beginning to set. She hugs me on the sidewalk outside Proud Mary, tight and fierce.
"You're tougher than you think," she whispers. "Don't let him make you forget that."
"I won't."
"And Scout? Make him work for it. He hurt you. He needs to understand that actions have consequences."
"I will. Thanks, Sable."
The drive back to the condo takes twenty minutes. My stomach churns the entire way. I'm not sure what I'm going to say, how I'm going to feel when I see him.
When I unlock the door and step inside, I hear water running. The shower. Silas must have just gotten home from practice.
I drop my bag by the door and wait.
Five minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. His hair is wet and messy. Water droplets cling to his chest and shoulders. I swallow, fighting the urge to peel off his towel and see where those water droplets trail down to.
I’m here to talk, not fuck him senseless. It’s important that I remember that. When he sees me, Silas stops dead.
"Scout."
I feel shy, tucking a springy curl behind my ear. "Hi."
"I didn't know if you were coming back."
"I live here." I shove my hands in my pockets. "We need to talk."
He gulps. "Yeah. Of course. Let me just get dressed."
"No!" The word comes out squeakier than I intended and I clear my throat. "Actually, stay like that. It's distracting. I need you distracted so you'll be honest with me."
His eyebrows rise but he doesn't argue. He moves to the couch and sits. I sit on the opposite end, as far from him as possible.
"Okay," I say. "I'm going to ask you questions. You're going to answer them honestly. No deflecting, minimizing, or trying to protect me from the truth."
"Okay." His throat bobs.
"Why didn’t you just tell me that you were… you?"
"Because I was scared." His jaw tightens. "It was easy to joke and flirt as strangers. You were opening up to StatMan in ways you wouldn't with me. You were letting him see your real self. And I got addicted to it."
"But you were lying."
"I know." His voice cracks. "I know that now. At the time, I told myself it wasn't hurting anyone. It was just talking."
"It wasn't just talking. I told you things I've never told anyone. You were the first person I’ve been vulnerable with since I left Enzo." My throat gets tight. "You took advantage of that."
"I did. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Scout. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn’t help myself."
"Sorry isn't enough." I pull my knees up to my chest. "I need to understand why you felt like you needed to hide behind a screen. Why couldn't you just be honest with me?"
He's quiet for a long moment. Then he says, "I've never been good at being vulnerable. Hockey beats it out of you. My childhood beat it out of me before that. Being open meant making myself a target. So I learned to shut it all down."
"But StatMan was vulnerable."
"StatMan had distance. Safety. If you rejected him, it wouldn't destroy me because it wasn't really me." He looks at me now, eyes dark with pain. "But you? The real you, face-to-face? The girl that I’ve been obsessed with for years? Being rejected would have broken something unfixable."
The honesty in his voice cracks something open in my chest. "StatMan was real. Those conversations were real."
"They were. That's what I'm trying to say." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "StatMan wasn't a lie about who I am. He was just the only version of myself I felt safe showing you."
"But I need you to be able to show me that version face-to-face," I tell him. "Without the distance or pretending to be someone else."
"I’m shitty at it." His voice is raw. "And I’m scared. But I want to try. I called Dr. Sable. Er, I guess you just call her Sable. She gave me a referral to another therapist because of the conflict of interest, so I have an appointment next week. I'm going to do the work."