Chapter Nineteen #2
Pulling back with a smile, I nod. “Well…you should. You’re
precious, like a precious gemstone, and those are rare. Friends like you are
rare and hard to find. You completely lifted my mood and my whole mindset
today, and it makes everything from this point on seem tolerable. So, thank
you.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
I wish I could take her with me, but I can’t.
“Tell Christian I said hello, and you and I will talk soon.
Text me when you land.”
“Will do!”
I get out of the car and head into the terminal, which feels
like a second—or fourth—home at this point. It’s loud and crowded, and I want
to get to my gate and settle in. It takes forever to get there, but when I do,
I find a seat and prepare to sit for a while.
When my phone rings, I know it’s Christian. He promised to
call after his game.
“Hey! How’d everything go today?”
“Good,” he says. “But, um…change of plans.”
“Excuse me?” I ask with amusement. “What does that even
mean?”
“It means, don’t get on the plane to Toronto. We’re going to
Arizona.”
“Wait…what?” I’m pretty sure I’m hearing things. Maybe I’m
getting interference from someone else’s call, or an announcement on the
loudspeaker or something. Because he can’t mean that I have to fly to Arizona.
But that’s exactly what he’s saying.
“Yeah. So, we just beat New York 6–2, and as soon as we got
to the locker room, I got the call. They traded me to Arizona.”
“But…Christian…how? What about all our things in Toronto?
Don’t you have to pack everything first? Or maybe I should still go and then
meet you in Arizona?”
“You and I both know there’s nothing overly important that
we’ll need right away. Plus, the team said they would help us arrange to have
our stuff packed and shipped to our new home. Besides, I know how much you hate
the trip to Toronto.” He chuckles—part amusement, part happiness. “This is gonna be good. Plus, I’m on the roster for the game
tomorrow night, and I really want you to be there for it.”
Good Lord. My head is spinning just trying to keep up with
all of this.
“What do you say, Ella Rose? Are you ready for another
adventure? One that’ll have us traveling a whole lot less to see each other?
It’s going to be like when you flew to Tempe. Only ninety minutes instead of
this five-hour deal. And no having to deal with customs. Won’t that be great?”
Is he kidding? Of course, it’s great. But it’s not the
point.
It’s crazy how my wildly structured husband—a man who always
has a plan and a routine—is suddenly okay with uprooting our lives on a
moment’s notice.
Literally.
“Ella Rose? Are you still there?”
“What? Yes. Yes, I’m here. Sorry. This is just a lot to
absorb.”
Which is putting it mildly.
We did love being in Arizona. That was truly where
our story began. Maybe it’s a good sign that we’re going back.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s a step closer to us finally
settling somewhere. My mind immediately goes back to how much I used to dream
of us settling in California, so maybe that’s back on the table.
“Look, I need to go,” he says. “I’ve got to get my things
together and say my goodbyes before heading to the airport. Management in
Phoenix is handling a hotel for us. I’ll text you the details as soon as I have
them and meet you there. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” I hang up, gather my meager belongings,
and head to the nearest ticket desk.
“How may I help you?”
“One ticket to Phoenix, please.”
If I thought the airport experience was a whirlwind,
it’s nothing compared to arriving in Phoenix. I get there before Christian
since it was such a short flight, and when he arrives, we barely have time to
say hello before he’s whisked away to the stadium to meet his new team.
Leaving me alone.
With nothing else to do, I order room service and
immediately begin researching the area so I can hit the ground running on
finding someplace to live tomorrow.
He comes back late, and we immediately crash, watching TV
even as he tells me about his speedy tour and meet and greet. He sounds so
excited. It’s infectious.
I want to ask how he’s feeling physically, but I don’t want
to put a damper on the mood. So, we settle into each other’s arms and fall
asleep.
The next morning, he’s on the go again. We manage to have
breakfast together before he leaves, but setting up our new life here will be
on my shoulders. What would he do without me?
“I left everything you’ll need for the game today in the
folder on the table. Luckily, it’s an afternoon game, so we can relax later,”
he says before kissing me thoroughly and heading out the door.
My head is spinning again.
And it doesn’t stop until the game is over and we’re back at
the hotel, where we can finally enjoy a little peace and quiet and our reunion.
I know we were here together last night, but it was frenzied, and we were both
full of anxious energy.
But now? Now is our time. Just the two of us, where we can
reconnect without the rush.
As I look around our suite, I don’t think I’ll ever stop
being amazed at how a hotel room can feel like home simply because he’s in it.
Being in the same place at the same time and under the same roof does wonders
for me.
The suite is quiet. The world is hushed beyond the thick
windows. Phoenix sprawls beneath us in glittering lights, but right now, all I
can see is Christian—showered, warm, and a little tired, but still soaking in
that post-win glow as he leans against the couch with a grin he pretends isn’t
smug. His hat sits abandoned on the table, his new team jacket is draped over a
chair, and his arm is lazily stretched along the couch’s back cushion, waiting
for me. Always waiting for me.
I sink down beside him, and he immediately pulls me in. It’s
like there’s been a him-shaped hole causing an ache under my ribs, and the
piece finally clicks back into place.
“First game in Phoenix,” I whisper, smiling into his
shoulder. “It feels…full circle.”
He gives me a soft laugh, the sound low and fond. “Yeah? You
thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Tempe,” I say instantly.
And there it is. The look in his eyes changes. Softens.
Brightens. Like we just unlocked a shared secret.
“That week to ourselves…” he murmurs, shaking his head. “The
hotel, the rooftop restaurant, all the shopping and sightseeing. It was a
perfect week.”
“Mmm…if you don’t count the fact
that you were injured and were there for physical therapy,” I correct,
laughing, even though I don’t actually care because the memory is warm and
glowing in my chest. “You complained every single day.”
“I didn’t complain,” he says, mock offended. “I suffered
silently. Bravely.”
“Yes, you did.” I pat his chest and fight the urge—again—to
ask how he’s feeling.
He smiles once more, softer this time. “Being with you was
the best therapy in the world.”
I lean my head against him, inhaling soap and skin and
something uniquely him. “That feels like a lifetime ago. We were such babies
back then,” I murmur. “Trying to figure everything out. Trying to figure us
out.”
He hums in agreement. “Yet somehow, this still feels like
that beginning. Like every time we end up somewhere new, life resets a little.
Like we get to remember who we were before everything got…big.”
I know what he means. Before the flights and the cities and
the distance and the schedules. Before the goodbyes that always feel too soon.
“This was completely unexpected,” I say. “This move. I know
you mentioned the possibility of a trade, but…”
“Yeah.” His thumb drags slow circles over my shoulder, the
touch grounding and tender. “I think this will be a good place, where we can
make wonderful memories. I love all the memories we make together, and I know
there’s so much more to come.”
I close my eyes, breathing that in.
Then, another feeling creeps up—the one I’ve been pushing
down. He senses it immediately. He always does.
“Hey.” His voice dips, the tone gentle. “Talk to me.”