Chapter 2
two
This cannot be happening. It cannot happen at all. What the fuck is going on?
My mind is chaos right now. After the doctor muttered those words, I went into a trance.
She handed me some pamphlets and a recommendation to an OB-GYN. She also gave me the number to an abortion clinic in case that was my decision.
Honestly, the doctor handled it great.
Me? Not so much.
I’ve been home for an hour now, and I haven’t stopped pacing.
I’m pregnant.
How the fuck am I pregnant?
I know how I’m pregnant, though. I let those beautiful brown eyes and wavy brown hair draw me in and steal my autonomy away from me. Fucking Brett Woods.
I wish I had never met him.
My heart pangs. That’s not true at all. Brett has become more than a random hookup. He’s become a friend to me. He helped me last year when I was struggling on the ice. He would sit with me and watch me do a triple lutz followed by a triple toe loop over and over again until I got it right.
He’s a good guy. I just wish he hadn’t come that night. He looked so sweet and vulnerable that I did something so fucking stupid.
I didn’t think one time in the middle of not having a fucking period for months would be enough to change my entire life.
It has, though. My life will never be the same again.
If I keep the baby, I can kiss the Olympics goodbye. The changes my body will go through will be rough enough, but then to basically abandon the kid at birth to get back to my routine? That is unfair to the child. Especially if it’s just me caring for him or her.
The idea of aborting the baby feels wrong too, though. There is a life growing inside of me. The doctors weren’t sure I was going to be able to have a baby with how sporadic my periods were. This could be my miracle baby. If I kill it, will I always regret it?
I mean, at this point, even going through the pregnancy means I will miss the Olympics in February. So if I go through with it, I will have years to prepare for the next one. I can give one up, right?
I mean, Isabelle Delobel came back after pregnancy to compete. She had a partner to help her and also support at home for the baby, but still.
My parents.
They are going to be so disappointed in me. They both preached safe sex and my body being a temple and all that shit. They would constantly tell me how much money they spent to get me to where I am. They will be furious when they find out one reckless mistake will make it all be for nothing.
The door opening has me pausing in my steps. I watch as Ashley steps inside.
She turns and frowns when she sees me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” she asks me.
“Yeah. Didn’t feel well.”
Or I don’t know, something monumentally life-changing happened, and I can’t even bother to care about class today because my mind is in a tailspin.
“Oh. Yeah, you don’t look great. Everything okay? You want to talk about it?”
Do I? Yes, but not with Ashley. We have been friends for two years now.
Roommates for the past year or so even, but she is also a figure skater.
As much as I want to trust her, there’s this sense of competitiveness that always lingers in the background.
Would she run and tell the coach before I can?
I don’t think she would, but right now I can’t risk it.
Besides, what do I even say? I’m pregnant and now my entire life is in ruins?
Yeah, I haven’t come to terms with it myself, so I’m not sure I want to speak it out loud.
“Nah. Just rough practice. You know how they can be sometimes. Even when you do everything perfectly, nothing is right.” I let out a small laugh. “Figure skating.”
She laughs. “Yeah, Andrey kicked my ass today too. I think with the Olympics approaching, they are trying to keep us in shape. They need at least one of us to place and make the team in January.”
I feel like I might puke again.
Another thing I will miss. Another chance for gold slipping through my fingers.
I don’t say anything to her as I look down at my feet.
“You seem stressed. You should call that boy who shows up here at all hours of the night and have him come relieve some of it.”
Brett.
Fuck. I have been selfishly thinking about how this will change my life, but I’m not the only one who made this baby.
Would Brett even want to know? Would he prefer I kept it from him so he wouldn’t have the responsibility?
He once mentioned that women only wanted him for his money. He even joked about how some would bring their own condoms to try and trick him into pregnancy so he would take care of them.
Will he think that’s what I did?
I mean, we have had sex since, and it’s always been with a condom, but he knows I didn’t that one night. He mentioned it.
He didn’t seem mad. He cuddled me until the morning, then kissed me goodbye as he ran off to his place to change for practice.
I need to tell him, don’t I?
He would want to know. At least I think he would.
What if he wants me to terminate the pregnancy?
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought.
That’s not an option. I don’t think I realized I had made my decision until that very thought.
I am keeping this baby.
I can’t hide it from him for nine months, so he will find out at some point.
Jesus, I don’t even have nine months, more like seven.
He should find out from me, though.
“Yeah. Great idea,” I tell Ashley as she slips into her room.
I do need to call Brett.
I need to call him and tell him he is going to be a father.
Fuck my life.
This is when it gets to me.
The silence.
When I’m in my room alone at night with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.
Sometimes I replay the injury. Sometimes it’s something I did in my teens or as a kid that makes me cringe. Most of the time, it’s the loneliness.
Kellan and Cora went to their room an hour ago. They are upstairs in Clay’s old room, reminding me once again that things aren’t the same. I shouldn’t cling to that so much, but for those first three years of college, everything was perfect. Even the fourth year was going well up to my injury.
Coach was lucky enough to get me a medical redshirt so I could play this year, but now I’m not sure I want to. Our first game is in a couple weeks, and I’m still not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be.
Everyone keeps telling me I’m scared, but they are wrong. They think I’m scared to get hurt again. That’s not the truth, though. Getting hurt is part of the game. I get that.
No, I am scared that I will get on that ice again and it won’t feel the same. Hockey was always my comfort. I had my boys around me. I finally found my family.
My family is scattered now, and I’m left here feeling like life stood still for me while they all moved on.
That’s what I’m scared of. Not losing the game. Not hurting myself.
I’m scared that the family I built will never feel the same.
Everyone always leaves.
It’s something my father said to me when I was a kid. I cried because he was leaving on a business trip and wouldn’t take me with him. He wanted me to grow and be a man.
I was six.
Now I’m twenty-two, and I have no idea what to do with my life. I don’t want to take over the family business, not that my father would let me.
I don’t want to go back home and live in a mausoleum even though my father signed the house over to me when I was eighteen years old.
I want to go back. I want to live in those few years where everything felt right. Where I was at peace.
Peace.
My hand finds my phone as I pull up her contact.
Emery has always brought me peace. Even if afterward I feel a load of emotions for her that I could never process because she refuses to acknowledge that she could even possibly feel a fraction of what I do, I still find peace with her.
Dialing her number, I wait for her to answer.
I’m surprised when she answers on the second ring.
“What do you want, Brett?” Her exasperation is clear through the phone.
It hurts me. Usually when she says those words, but they sound more like a joke. Tonight, she sounds like she is done with my shit.
Everyone leaves.
“Buttercup, how was your day?” I ask, not giving a hint of my hurt to her.
“Shitty. Really freaking shitty,” she mumbles into the phone.
My heart lightens a little. Maybe she isn’t done with me. Maybe it’s whatever happened.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
She snorts. “Definitely not. I want to sleep, but it seems like my mind has other plans.”
“I could come over. Keep you company.”
She outright laughs now. “That’s the last thing I need right now.
Honestly, this is all your fault to begin with.
If you hadn’t pursued me, my life wouldn’t be in shambles right now.
I mean, you had to charm me with that…that…
that…I don’t know. You know what you are.
You charmed me, and now look at where I am. Fuck. I can’t keep doing this, Brett.”
My heart is racing in my chest. Emery has become the one light through all of this. She is always there for me when I need it. I can’t lose her, not now. I don’t want her to lose me either. She might not depend on me the same way, but I want to be there for her.
“Em, tell me what’s wrong. I’ll make it all better,” I urge her.
“You can’t. Not everything is about you.
You need to figure your own shit out before you try and help me figure mine.
Have you gotten back out on the ice yet?
No. It’s been three months since you got the all-clear, and you are still on the bench.
I don’t get it. You have your dream right there in your hands.
You can grab onto it and run with it, and you are wasting it.
I can’t do this right now with you. I’m getting upset, and I had just calmed down. ”
Where the hell is this coming from? Emery’s always been blunt with me in the past, but this feels different.
“Emery, I want to be there for you. It doesn’t have to be about me. I want it to be about you,” I say sadly.
“I will talk to you eventually, but tonight isn’t the right time. I need to go. I have to be up in a few hours and go do shit I don’t want to do, so please. For tonight. Let me sleep.” Her voice cracks, breaking my heart.
“Okay, buttercup. Whatever you need,” I murmur as the line goes dead.
I doubt she even heard me.
I stare up at the ceiling once again.
She’s right. I have depended on her to fill this gaping hole inside of me. I have been begging her to love me without saying the words. I have been selfish.
Not that I want to be. I have tried to get her to open up more. To talk to me and depend on me, but she refuses. She only says we are temporary.
I don’t want to be temporary, though. I want forever, and I want it with her.
I should have known better, though. I never get what I want. That would be too easy.
No, somehow in a past life I fucked up so bad that this one is destined to be a lonely mess.
I set my phone down, turning on my side. I’ll give her the space she asks for, but I won’t give her up. Not without a fight.
If Emery wants to toss me aside, she is going to need to say it point-blank.
Otherwise, I’ll live on this shred of hope until I die.