Chapter 39 #2
The tightness in his voice, the hurt and anger underneath the bitterness, makes my chest ache. I want to reach for him, to offer some comfort, but I’m also thrown off by the sudden appearance of his ex.
And although I try not to let it get to me, I can’t help comparing myself to her—thin and polished and so conventionally beautiful.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head as if to clear it, then nods as if brushing off the strange encounter with his ex. “Yeah, I’m good. And you were right, we should definitely do something fun together after I’m done at my dad’s. Where did you want to meet up for that ice carving thing?”
We make arrangements to meet downtown around three, then he goes upstairs to shower and dress. When he comes back down, his hair is damp and he’s wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt that hugs his broad chest and strong arms.
He kisses me before heading out, his hand cupping the back of my neck. “See you this afternoon.”
Then he’s gone, and the cabin feels too quiet.
I shower too, taking my time under the hot water, trying to wash away the unsettled feeling that Alexis’s visit left behind. Afterward, I get dressed and sit down at my art station, intending to work on the illustration I’ve been doing for Asher. The secret one, the drawing of him skating.
But I’m agitated, unable to get into a flow.
My lines are shaky, my focus scattered, and after an hour of making no progress, I give up.
Feeling like I can’t be cooped up in the cabin right now, I decide to drive into town early.
Maybe I’ll go back to that bookstore I like, even though I already finished my Christmas shopping.
I just need to get out of here, clear my head, do something normal.
I crank up the music on the drive, then park near the town square and walk to All About Books, the cold air helping to clear my mind.
The bookstore is one of my favorite places in Maplewood.
Small and cozy, with creaking wooden floors and floor to ceiling shelves packed with books.
The owner, Mrs. Libby, knows me by name and always has recommendations ready.
I’m browsing the fiction section, running my fingers along the spines, when a voice says brightly, “Oh, hi, Kat!”
I turn to find Alexis standing at the end of the aisle.
“Oh. Hi.” I smile politely, although my stomach drops a little. I really just wanted to browse books and relax, not make awkward small talk with Asher’s ex.
“I’ve been exploring the town,” she says, her heels tapping on the wooden floor as she steps closer “Isn’t this place charming? I love these little independent bookstores. So much character.”
I nod politely, not really wanting to get into a conversation with her. But there’s no easy escape without being obviously rude, and the aisle is narrow.
“So what do you do for work?” she asks, glancing at the books I’ve been looking at.
“Um, illustration. Children’s books, mostly.”
“Oh, how fun!” She makes a face as if she’s impressed, although there’s an undercurrent of something I don’t like in her tone. Then she tips her head to one side. “Remind me, how long have you and Asher been together?”
I don’t think either of us ever told her, but I answer anyway. “Seven months.”
“Huh.” She pulls out a book, glancing at the cover before putting it back. “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised he’s with someone seriously right now. Given everything happening with his career.”
I look at her more carefully, trying to read her expression. “What do you mean?”
She waves her hand dismissively, as if her comment was nothing important. “Oh, I just mean the timing is interesting. This is such a transitional period for him professionally.”
Instead of dropping it though, she leans in, as if she’s about to share some kind of insider knowledge.
“I’ve just seen it before in the hockey world.
I dated Asher for three years, you know.
And I’ve been around professional sports for most of my adult life.
Players in transition, especially ones dealing with career uncertainty like Asher has been, often look for something temporary.
Something comfortable and uncomplicated while they figure out their next move. ”
My stomach twists, each word landing like a small blow.
“I’m not saying that’s definitely what’s happening here,” she continues quickly, her expression sympathetic. “But given the timing, and everything he’s been dealing with… I just think it’s worth being aware of the pattern.”
“My relationship with Asher isn’t any of your business,” I tell her, my voice coming out colder than I meant it to.
Alexis’s expression shifts, her veneer of bright friendliness slipping away like a mask falling. Her tone changes, becoming harder and more direct.
“Look, I’m just trying to help you see reality here.
” She sets down the book she was holding, turning to face me fully.
“Asher has obviously been going through a rough patch in his career over the past year. Struggling with the injury, dealing with uncertainty about his future. Floundering a little, if we’re being honest. Which explains how he ended up with someone like you. ”
She purses her lips, one perfectly plucked eyebrow arching.
“But now that he’s signed with a major team? His star is about to rise again. The endorsement deals will start coming in, the media attention, all of it. And when he’s back at the top of his game, when he’s the Asher Vaughn everyone wants a piece of…”
She pauses, looking me up and down with an expression that manages to be both pitying and contemptuous.
“There’s no way he’s still going to want to be with a fat, struggling artist from a nowhere town.”
My head jerks back in shock, my entire body jolting at the casual cruelty of her words. She doesn’t even know me, but she’s managed to hit on every insecurity I’ve ever had about myself—about my body, my career, my worth—with horrible accuracy.
I stand rooted in place, unable to form words past the shock and hurt that’s flooding me.
“I’m sorry if that sounds harsh,” Alexis says, although her tone suggests she’s not sorry at all.
“But someone needs to be honest with you. You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak if you think this is going to last. Asher needs someone who fits his lifestyle.
Someone who looks the part, who can handle the social requirements, who belongs in his world. Not…”
She trails off, but the implication is clear. Not someone like you.
I turn on my heel and leave—not saying another word to her, not trusting my voice.
The bell above the bookstore’s door jangles violently as I shove my way outside, and tears blur my vision as I walk away, my arms wrapped around myself against the cold. It feels like I just got punched in the gut, all the air knocked out of my lungs.
Her words keep echoing in my head, over and over, like a recording stuck on repeat.
A fat, struggling artist from a nowhere town.
I walk without really seeing where I’m going, just putting distance between myself and Alexis.
When I reach the edge of the town square where they’re setting up for the ice carving competition later, I finally stop.
Workers are arranging blocks of ice, getting ready for the event I was so excited to attend with Asher not that long ago.
Now I can barely see it through my tears.
I close my eyes, dragging in a deep breath that hitches in my chest, trying to pull myself together. Trying to remember who I am, what I’m worth.
But all I can hear is Alexis’s voice.
I think about going home, but I don’t want to go to the cabin right now. It’s felt like home for the past couple of weeks, but right now it just seems like what it is—someone else’s property that I’m just using for a while. A borrowed space. A temporary arrangement.
Just like my relationship with Asher.
Just like me.