49. Ariella
FORTY-NINE
ARIELLA
SHOUT OUT TO NICK PARKER & ELIZABETH JAMES FOR THE ENDING INSPIRATION.
What was the stage of grieving called where you filled every waking second with work or an activity until you were too tired to think about what was missing from your life?
The stage where you buried yourself under an avalanche of distractions, convincing yourself that productivity was the cure for a shattered heart.
Or when thoughts of the person you lost popped in like an unwanted intruder, feeling like a shot to the heart, and you immediately pushed them away—sometimes with a barbell, sometimes with music so loud it could drown out your own screaming thoughts.
And sometimes, when none of that worked, you found solace at the bottom of a bottle of tequila.
That had been my life for the past week.
Gracie, bless her persistent ass, hadn’t let me wallow alone. She’d flown out to Dallas and then turned right back around, called her work and said she’d been out for a while. Used her vacation time and everything .
Now, for reasons I still didn’t understand, she’d dragged me to a sports bar downtown, claiming I needed to get out and stop sulking. I’d gone, because fighting her was pointless. And because, deep down, I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts anymore.
The weights had stopped helping.
Maybe the tequila would.
“You’ve been staring at that margarita like it’s going to tell you the meaning of life,” Gracie said, raising an eyebrow as she sipped hers. “Are you going to talk about it, or are we just going to sit here in silence while you mope?”
I sighed. “What the fuck am I supposed to say? I love him. I love him so much, it physically hurts.”
She leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Well, it’s about damn time you admitted it. Took you long enough.”
“Don’t.” I pointed a finger at her, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m not in the mood. What does it even matter that I realized it? I can’t be with him…he doesn’t even know I love him.” The last part was a whisper because it hurt too much to say it louder.
At least I thought he didn’t—he’d never answered any of the texts I’d sent him.
Gracie’s face softened, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I know, mija . But you need to get this off your chest. Talk to me.”
She was right. The weight of my feelings pressed down on me like a barbell I couldn’t lift. “I wanted to show him what it’s like to be chosen, to show him he deserves someone who puts him first. But…” My voice cracked, and I blinked hard, willing the tears no t to fall. “I thought I was protecting him, protecting all of them by walking away, but what if I just broke his heart?
And mine.
Gracie’s covered my hand with hers, squeezing. “Ari, you made a sacrifice. You did what you thought was best for him.”
“But what if I was wrong? What if I ruined everything?” A bitter laugh escaped me, the sound sharp and hollow. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I spent so much time building a career on my own terms, determined to prove I didn’t need anyone and was better alone. And now I have exactly what I thought I wanted but…”
“But?”
“I was fucking wrong,” I admitted, my voice cracking under the weight of the words. “I thought a relationship would cage me, hold me down—” I paused, running my finger along the rim of my glass, willing the water collecting along the rim of my eyes not to fall. I shrugged a shoulder, giving her a watery smile. “You were right. When you find someone who truly sees you, someone who believes in you, it doesn’t cage you. It frees you. Supports you. It makes you stronger.”
She reached out, resting a hand on my arm, unshed tears in her own eyes threatening to spill over. “He gave you that, didn’t he?”
The memories of Dalton’s unwavering encouragement flooded back. The way he’d listened and pushed me to be better without making me feel less.
“He never made me feel like I wasn’t enough, or that I had to choose between him and my dreams. He stood beside me every step of the way.” My chest tightened, the ache almost unbearable. “And now he’s gone, and I feel like I’m dying. Slowly drowning on dry land.”
I paused, trying to settle my labored breathing.
“What if he thinks I didn’t care enough to fight for him? What if…what if he never knows I love him.”
Gracie’s grip tightened, her voice soft but firm. “He knows. And if he doesn’t yet, he will. Love like you two have doesn’t disappear. It leaves a mark. He’ll feel it, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I whispered. “That he’s marked me forever and I walked away. He’s gone.”
Gracie’s brow furrowed, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on my arm. “Ari, you don’t know that for sure. He’s not the kind of man to let something like this go without a fight.”
“Yeah, but his dad isn’t the kind of man to leave loose ends. He’ll be sure Dalton thinks I left because I didn’t care. That I chose my career over him. I’ll be persona non grata . Hell, Emma is probably already moved back into his apartment, nursing him back to health.”
“That’s why Monroe’s there. That man’s got the stubbornness of a mule and loyalty to match. He’ll tell Dalton the truth.”
“Not if Vincent threatened him, too,” I countered, the thought like a punch to the gut. “It’s been a week, Gracie. A week of nothing. No calls. No texts. Nothing from him. At this point…” My voice cracked. “At this point, I have to accept that I lost him. I lost the love of my life.”
Gracie’s hand shot out, gripping mine tightly. “No. Don’t you dare go down that road. You did what you thought was right. You protected him, even if it meant breaking your own heart. That’s not losing him, Ari. That’s loving him. And if Dalton has even an ounce of sense, he’ll see through his dad’s bullshit.” She paused, ducking her head down so our eyes were locked. “He just needs time to process everything. He loves you. I know it.”
She sounded so sure. But the doubts still clawed at me, sharp and relentless. My heart couldn’t take the hope.
Before I could respond, movement on one of the TVs above the bar caught my attention. My heart stumbled as Dalton’s name scrolled across the banner at the bottom of the screen, accompanied by his photo.
“Turn it up,” I called to the bartender, standing so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor. Even with the volume turned up, the bar’s noise made it hard to catch what the announcers said. I stepped closer, trying to read their lips, my heart pounding.
“Is it about his injury?” I asked, panic threading through my voice. My mind raced, thinking of all the worst-case scenarios. Was he okay? Was this about his recovery?
“You’re not going to find out from there,” came a deep voice from behind me, cutting through the noise.
I froze.
My entire body stiffened, my heart racing like I’d sprinted ten miles. Slowly, I turned around, my breath catching when I saw him.
Dalton stood there, tall and imposing, green eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that rooted me to the spot. My knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the moment.
“Oh my god,” the words came out as a choked sob, and there was no holding back the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Dalton?” I breathed, the name slipping from my lips like a prayer.
He stepped closer, the noise of the bar fading into the background.
“You’re here? In San Jose?” My voice cracked as my mind struggled to process what I was seeing.
That he was really here, that I wasn’t dreaming.
He nodded, his expression unreadable as he moved closer. “I needed to see you. Needed to hear you say it.” His tone was soft but insistent, his green eyes searching mine.
“Say what?” My confusion grew, my heart thundering in my chest as he drew closer, our bodies only inches apart.
This had to be real. I could feel the heat from his body, the scent of his cologne, but I was afraid to touch him.
Because if this wasn’t…if this were a cruel trick caused by alcohol and grief, I really would die of a broken heart.
“The last thing you texted me,” he said, his voice a whisper now. “Say it, Sunshine.”
My emotions crashed over me like a tidal wave, battering my bruised heart.
“I love you, Dalton Thatcher. With every fucking fiber of my being. You don’t limit me, and as scary as it was to think of attaching myself to someone, you showed me that all you want to do is see me reach my dreams.” Another sob slipped out. “Because doing that doesn’t require being alone when it’s the right person by your side. And you’re the right person, Thatcher.”
The second the last words left my mouth, his hands cupped my face, and his lips crashed onto mine. The kiss was desperate and raw, a collision of love and relief that left me breathless. I twisted my hands into the fabric of his hoodie.
“Your ribs!” I gasped, jumping back in a panic when he winced. “You’re supposed to be recovering. Should you even be standing?”
He laughed softly, pulling me back into his body before I could get too far and resting his forehead against mine. “I’m fine, Sunshine. Better than fine now. I needed to see you. I needed to tell you that you’re it for me.” He cupped my face. “You’re everything. I love you, and I’m not losing you. I’m not letting you get away.”
Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to be there when you woke up. I wanted?—”
“Shh.” He pressed a finger to my lips, his eyes soft and full of understanding. “I know. Monroe told me everything.”
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as they rested against his chest. “I didn’t want to leave. I swear I didn’t. But I couldn’t let him trade Monroe and Jimenez. I couldn’t take that away from you, or from them.”
His jaw tightened, and he wrapped his arms around me, careful of his injuries. “I hate what he did to you. To us. But I’m done letting him control my life, Sunshine. Done.”
“What do you mean?” My voice was barely audible.
“It’s over. I’m done living for his approval. I’m living for me now. For us.”
“But what about your team? What?— ”
“What I want is you,” he interrupted firmly, his voice steady. “It’s always been you. Forever and always, that’s what I want.”
I kissed him again, pouring everything I felt into it.
The bar erupted into cheers, reminding me that our emotional reunion was happening in the middle of a crowd of random people. But I didn’t care. This was what mattered.
He was what mattered.
When the noise died down, the TV caught my attention again.
“In an unexpected trade agreement, the San Jose Stars have acquired former Dallas Desperados Coach Josh Monroe, defenseman Christian Jimenez, and star center Dalton Thatcher, despite his recent injury.”
My head whipped back to Dalton. “You’re playing here?”
He smiled, brushing a tear from my cheek.
“ We’re staying here,” Jimenez said, coming out of nowhere and wrapping his arms around us. “Ugh, that was beautiful. Fucking choked me up. Hell, I think Monroe even shed a tear.”
I pulled away, looking over Dalton’s shoulder toward where Jimenez pointed. Sure enough, my former boss stood stoic, hands shoved into his pockets. But his usual frown was replaced by a slight upturn at the corners of his lips.
“Why…how did you all end up on the Stars?” I asked, mind still reeling.
“Well,” Monroe started. “Thatcher’s in love, and was coming whether he could play hockey or not. And we didn’t want to stay behind and work for that asshole. Not that we had a choice since he signed our trade papers too. And I didn’t want to take the blame for the property damage to his car.” Monroe’s gaze shifted toward Gracie, who was studying her drink like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and took a sip. “The police report I read said Vincent’s car appeared to have been hit with a long wooden implement. And wouldn’t you know, Gracie, I’m missing a hockey stick from the bed of my truck.”
She broke out into a coughing fit. “Damn. That’s crazy. You really should put those somewhere more secure,” she said, looking him dead in the eye with a blank face.
My face split into a smile. Pinche, pendeja . She one hundred percent was guilty. And I was one hundred percent so grateful for her.
“That still doesn’t explain how you ended up traded to the Stars,” I said, staring into Dalton’s eyes, who’d yet to let me go.
“He lied.” His face darkened. “When my dad said he’d trade Monroe and Jimenez if you didn’t leave. He’d already done the deal. The plan was to remove anyone from my life he thought might pull me away from his goals. So, I got a new agent and secured some things first,” he explained, some of the anger slipping away.
“But that’s not how trades work. You can’t just decide where you want to go…”
Dalton smiled with that boyish grin. “Luckily, even with a bum rib, I’ve got a good enough record they were interested in me. Plus, I grew up with the captain, Hogan. He pulled some strings. Finalized the trade papers this morning and had my lawyer send them over to my dad. In fact,” he pulled out his phone. “This is the asshole calling about it now, I bet.”
He answered the call, and even with it pressed to his ear, there was no mistaking the bark of anger from his father on the other line. “Hello to you too, Vincent.” Dalton paused for another string of what I was sure was an ass-chewing. With each word, Dalton’s smile grew larger until he finally cut him off.
“Here’s the thing, my lawyer did a little digging. Had a nice chat with Emma, too. We pulled together a lot of interesting information about how you run your business. Turns out you can’t do a thing about the trade, because if you attempt to mess with me, my team, or my girlfriend in any way, I’ll fucking bury you.”
Hearing a man threaten his father should not make you wet, yet my body would disagree with that logic.
“I don’t give a damn about the Langley empire. It’s not my last name attached to it.” I swore I heard crashing over the phone, but Dalton just kept talking. “If you have anything else you want to say to me, contact my lawyer.”
He ended the call, to a round of applause from our friends.
“Hell, yeah,” Jimenez yelled, punching Gracie playfully in the arm. Monroe even flashed a rare smile. I didn’t think I’d ever been more proud of someone than I was right then.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” I whispered, too emotional to get the words out any louder.
Dalton dropped a kiss to the top of my head. “No, he doesn’t, and you showed me that. I love you, Ariella. I was coming even if I couldn’t play hockey. I only want to be where you are.”
My chest twisted with a rush of emotions that were the polar opposite of the ones I’d had at the beginning of the night.
His lips pressed to mine. Soft and searching at first, before morphing into something more desperate, like our bodies were recognizing how close we’d come to not being together.
How the hell had I ever wondered if this was real?
Or thought I was somehow stronger alone?
“I found the other piece of my heart in you, Sunshine. I want it all, the fairytale happily ever after.” Saltiness burst onto my tongue, the tears streaming down my face interfering with our kiss. “You don’t have to cry, darlin’” he said softly, pulling away.
“Oh yes I do.” My mouth found his again. The tears were from happiness, and I doubted they would be stopping anytime soon. “I love you, Thatcher.”