Chapter 5 #2
What did she do when I wasn’t home? Did she have hobbies? Did she visit family or friends in the area? I could imagine her crafting, but I’d never seen anything that led me to believe she actually did so.
She was so self-contained. Her belongings never left her studio, unless she was taking them somewhere or using them. My gut twisted. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so concerned about protecting my space that I made her feel uncomfortable venturing beyond her studio.
God, why did this have me in knots? It was literally her job to know everything going on in my life. The same wasn’t true in reverse.
But that didn’t prevent the guilt. I should still have made an effort.
Opening my eyes, I straightened and palmed my phone. I navigated to a search engine and typed her father’s name into it. I scrolled through dozens of photographs of Pete Wright on the ice or being interviewed and checked out an article in a sports magazine about Pete Wright’s hockey protégé son.
When I dug even deeper, I unearthed a handful of photographs of Mrs. Wright with Alec and Jane at Pete’s games. Jane had been a cute kid. Small, with lanky limbs and long brown hair. In one of the images, she clung to her mother’s leg and peeked at the photographer.
That little girl looked right into my soul.
Guilt swept through me again. I felt like I was intruding on her privacy by snooping like this, but then these photos were out there in the public domain for everyone to see.
Some of my friends and acquaintances might have already seen them before.
Just because I hadn’t didn’t mean they were secret.
Suddenly, I was desperate to know exactly who’d been aware of Jane’s alter ego—the hockey princess.
Any questions would have to wait, though. I couldn’t exactly call around my teammates this late at night and demand to know if they’d paid better attention to my assistant than I had.
I checked the time. An hour had passed. I should try to apologize to Jane again.
I went to her studio and knocked, but when she didn’t respond, I retreated to my bedroom and closed the door. I wasn’t in any kind of mental state to be sleeping, and there was only one person I trusted myself to be vulnerable with: Hazel.
I flopped onto the bed and found her number but hesitated before calling. It was possible she was asleep, but considering she preferred to study late and wake late, I was willing to bet she was probably still up. I selected her number and waited for the call to connect.
“Hey, big brother,” Hazel said, her cheerful tone reassuring me that I hadn’t interrupted her sleep.
“Hey, Haze.”
“So. Are you calling to finally tell me about the changes with the team even though anyone who pays attention to hockey already knows?” she asked, a little annoyance seeping into her voice.
Ugh. It seemed all I could do at the moment was screw up with the women in my life. “Sorry, I should have called yesterday. I got caught up in my own head and didn’t think of it.”
She huffed. “You never do. But it’s okay. I know how you are. You’re calling now at least.”
I pressed my lips together. There was absolutely no way I was going to admit I’d called her for another reason.
“How’s college?” I asked, eager to hear what she’d been up to regardless of my ulterior motive for the call having been trashed.
Hazel was the only member of my family I had anything to do with, and I cared about her more than anyone else.
As tough as I’d had it growing up with the weight of Dad’s dreams and expectations on my shoulders, she’d had it worse in some ways, because he’d pretty much ignored her existence completely.
She’d been an accident, and he’d palmed off almost all parental responsibility for her onto Mom while he focused on me and hockey.
“It’s great.”
“Have you decided what you want to major in yet?”
“It’s so hard! Everything is interesting.”
“Well, take your time. Make sure you pick something you’re happy with.”
After all, it wasn’t as if I couldn’t afford to pay her tuition for years to come if it took her that time to land on a career.
She’d argued in the beginning about me paying her way, and I suspected she thought I was only doing it out of a misplaced sense of guilt, but I didn’t have many people I cared about, and I wanted to do everything I could to make life easier for the ones who mattered.
“I will.” This time, she was more subdued. “But I won’t waste your money.”
I rolled my eyes. “I never thought you would. There’s honestly no rush. I just want you to be happy.”
“Thanks, Austin. Enough about me. I want to know what you’re thinking about the changes.”
“So far, they seem positive, but it’s really too soon to know.”
“It’d have to be pretty bad to be worse, wouldn’t it?”
I murmured an agreement.
“Anyone interesting in your life?” she asked.
I snorted. “No, Haze. I’m not dating. Hockey is my focus.”
I stood by what I’d told Gus earlier. Regardless of how it might affect my appeal to team management, I wasn’t getting myself an actual girlfriend. I couldn’t afford the distraction and wouldn’t risk my mental health.
I’d consider the fake dating idea further. I could see the merit in it, but the thought of anyone other than Jane playing the role didn’t sit right with me. Just like a girlfriend, it would introduce an additional complication to my life.
Hazel sighed. “You deserve to be happy.”
“I am happy.” I had everything I’d dreamed of except for a championship ring and a C on my uniform.
“Uh-huh.” Her disbelief came through loud and clear. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let Dad and what he did to us rule your life. You cut him off for a reason, and you need to put him behind you.”
“Easier said than done.” She knew as well as I did how hard it could be to get past internal scars.
“I know.” Her tone was softer now. “Just promise me that you’ll be open to a relationship.”
My insides were leaden. Here she was, pleading with me to try my hand at dating. Meanwhile, I was considering entering a farce of an arrangement with no real feelings involved. It would kill her if I did so and she ever found out.
But then, if she never found out, perhaps she’d finally relax and spare some thought for her own future instead of mine.
“I’ll think about it.”