39
Conor
I’ve just finished my second session of physical therapy for my shoulder. Doc says I’m healing well all things considered and should be back to the ice in no time.
The pain isn’t anywhere near as brutal as it was those first couple of weeks, but after these sessions that pain comes back tenfold. By the time I hop into my truck, the throbbing is already coming back. I know the drill by now. Ice pack. Pain killers. Repeat.
Instead of moping around for the rest of my life, or until I can get back on that ice, I’m putting all my energy into getting my shoulder healed.
Every exercise. Every stretch. Every miserable physio session.
It’s all one step to getting back on the ice.
And then I can slowly start getting my life back.
My phone pings with a message as I start the engine. I quickly glance down at the screen.
Angel: Thank you for the gift. I love it.
My heart stutters in my chest.
A notification popped up earlier from my phone calendar, reminding me that today is Sasha’s birthday.
I didn’t need the reminder though, I’ve had that date locked in for months.
It’s even my phone's passcode now since Sash thought 0000 was too obvious. I think the more obvious the better. No one should be dumb enough to use that as a passcode so I figured it was a safe bet. 1220, that’s what it is now.
I knew I still wanted to get Sasha a gift for her birthday. She still means so much to me and I wanted to show her that. I also wanted to thank her for everything she has done for me and I didn’t know how to. Getting her that gift was my way of showing her that I appreciate her.
I couldn’t think of anything that she would love, which is shitty because we were together almost every day for so long, so I called Olliepop last week and she agreed to help.
We went to the same stores I had been to a few weeks before and had picked out a couple of different things that Sash would like.
We got pajamas, clothes, books, candles. But still, none of it felt like enough.
When we were leaving, a boutique with about fifty pairs of heels in the window caught my eye.
They were all different colors, all different styles.
Some had small heels, some had huge ones.
Some were plain, some had patterns. It looked like a museum dedicated entirely to women’s feet.
It was like hell, but with better lighting and more sparkle.
I had asked Liv if there was anything in there that Sasha would like, and she said, “Have you met Sash? She would die just to get in here.” So we went in.
I can tell the difference between a Bauer and a CCM stick from fifty feet away, but apparently there are twenty different kinds of black heel. I was way in over my head.
But as it turns out, there was one pair of heels that Sasha had wanted for months, but she couldn’t afford to buy them.
I had the money to buy them, so I did. I don’t know much about shoes unless they have a set of blades attached to them, so I let Olivia do all the work and I paid.
All I know is that they are silver heels with lots of sparkles. I do think Sasha will like them though.
How do I play this? Do I act like it was no big deal or do I confess that I still love her and always will? Oh who am I kidding, she’ll laugh in my face. Nonchalant it is.
Me: You can take them back if you
don’t like them.
Angel: No. I love them.
Me: Good.
Me: Happy birthday, Sasha.
Angel: Thank you <3
I stare at the tiny heart for longer than I should. I want to say more, but I don’t want to come across as desperate or say something stupid. So, I pocket my phone again, putting my truck into drive and head home where I can wallow in my own self-pity alone.
“Hey Dee!” I call as I walk into Buttons and Books. She’s working behind the counter, moving around the space like a madwoman. I don’t even think she has registered that I’m here. Instead of bothering her more, I move to the back of the cafe where Olivia and Isabella are waiting for me.
“Hey Olliepop.” I nod to the woman who has very quickly become more like a sister to me than a friend. “Hey, Connie.” I coo at the beautiful baby who smiles up at me. Her first few teeth have started poking through and it’s the cutest thing ever.
“How’s your shoulder?” Olivia asks once I’ve sat down at the table opposite her.
“It’s doing good. Doc says it’s healing better than expected.”
“Oh, that’s good!” Olivia’s smile falters as she looks over at me. “And how are you?”
“I’m doing okay.” I lie, but she can see right through it. She raises an eyebrow at me, a stern look on her face that says I’m not taking any of your bullshit, so I tell her the truth. “Fine. I’m not doing well.”
Her face morphs into a look of pity and I fucking hate it. I don’t need people feeling bad for me. I just want them to treat me as if everything is normal. “I lost the two most important things in my life and I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t know who I am without either of them.”
I told Olivia about my ADHD the day after I told the guys. It actually surprised me that Sasha didn’t tell her and I think that has made all of this feel worse. She didn’t tell the one person she tells everything to, because she knew I wasn’t ready for people to know.
“I know it’s hard now, but hockey will be back again before you know it.” She rests a gentle hand against my forearm. “And Sash, she just needs a little more time.”
“She doesn’t want me, Olivia. She ended things with me, remember.”
“Did she tell you why she ended things?”
“She tried to,” I shrug, trying to appear unaffected even though it still eats away at my insides, “but I didn’t want to hear it.” Olivia’s eyes widen slightly before her hand whips up and hits me over the side of the head. “Ouch, what the fuck was that for?”
“You are so stupid sometimes!” She exclaims, rolling her eyes and taking an angry sip of her coffee. “Sasha wants to be with you, Conor. She just has a lot of shit to sort out first.”
What is she talking about? If she wanted to be with me, why didn’t she just tell me that? Because you wouldn’t let her, dickhead.
“Conor,” Olivia sighs, that look of pity back on her face, “Max really messed with her head. Imagine being with someone basically your whole life, thinking you’re going to marry that person and have your kids with that person, for them to turn around and do the one thing you thought they never would. ” I mull that over for a minute.
I know Sasha has trust issues now, and I know Max really fucked her up, but I never stopped to think about it the way Olivia has just put it. That would screw with anyone’s head.
“Plus, she’s never been on her own. She’s lost and doesn’t know who she is as a person. She didn’t think it was fair on you having to wait around until she figured that out. She wants to work her life out so she can be better for herself and for you.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I had thought this whole time Sasha just didn’t want to be with me. I thought this whole time that while I thought everything between me and Sash was real, that she was just using me to get over her ex.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It turns out that she’s actually the most selfless person out there. Instead of stringing me along, she has taken space to be better. Fuck, I should have listened to her at the start. It could have saved us both a lot of fucking pain.
“She’s doing so good, Conor. She’s checked so many things off her list. She’s healing.”
I can’t help but laugh, the first real one I’ve done since all this shit started. “That girl loves a good list.”
“I think that’s the one thing she will never give up.
” We laugh for a moment and part of me feels lighter.
Knowing Sasha is out there, doing everything she can to heal, is something I don’t even know how to put into words.
“She quit her job last week.” Olivia says and my chest swells. “She gave them hell too.”
“That’s my girl.” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.
“She’s in New York this week. She spent Christmas with her family and will be home tomorrow.”
A post popped up on my Instagram of Sasha, and when I say popped up, I mean I saw it when I was stalking her profile.
She was so fucking beautiful that it physically hurt.
She was wearing a dark red dress, velvet I think, with sparkles that glinted when the light hit it.
And on her feet were the heels that I got her.
They made her luscious, tanned legs look miles long.
She looked unreal.
“Oh! She has a meeting with an editor next week too.”
“She finished her book?”
“It’s all she’s been doing. She’s really working her ass off to make this dream come true.”
I feel so much fucking pride right now. My girl is actually doing it and she’s doing it on her own. She’s the strongest woman I know. To go through all the shit she has in the last year and still get out and make something good out of it all. She’s amazing.
For the first time in weeks, I leave the cafe feeling lighter. Knowing she’s healing. Knowing she’s building the life she’s always wanted and becoming the woman she has always wanted to be.
If that journey eventually leads her back to me, I’ll be here. And if it takes a little longer? She’s worth every second of the wait.