Chapter 10 Oakley Kate
Oakley Kate
You know, it takes a lot for all thoughts in my brain to stop. But right now, I could hear a pin drop.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Maybe I heard wrong.
Silas nods, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and I catch myself studying the tiny scar that crosses both lips and down to the underside of his chin. Can’t even blame that one on hockey. That one’s courtesy of yours truly.
Focus? Oakley Kate.
Suddenly, my mom’s line of questioning earlier about children makes perfect sense. It’s more proof she’s trying to push us together again.
“Look, Kates,” he starts, but I hold a hand up.
“Just…trying to find words. Give me a sec.” I’m impulsive, especially when it comes to voicing my thoughts. I tend to spew sentences without a filter. Silas knows that better than anyone, but right now, the last thing I want to do is hurt either of us.
This is Aubrey, the sweet little nugget I used to tote around on my hip at the rink.
Her mother always tried to pawn her off on the neighbors, so I started setting regular playdates to keep her with us instead.
When I left Silas, I left her, too. Video calls are a poor substitute for sisterhood, and even those have been few and far between.
Emotions threaten to pull me under, the desire to lash out at Silas for not telling me strong, but it’s my own fault for not knowing. For not being here.
“How are you handling it? With hockey, I mean.”
He laughs, the sound short and humorless, before leaning his head against the back of the couch. “It’s a miracle DFCS hasn’t shown up. I mean, we’re homeschooling or virtual schooling, or whatever you want to call it. I think she’s adjusting well, overall.”
“And you?”
His silence says more than words ever could.
“Are you handling it okay, Si?” I ask softly when he doesn’t look at me. The slow shake of his head cracks something in my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have—”
He looks at me now, and that look says everything. He already knew. I’d have come the second he called. I’d have dropped everything, job be damned.
But the day I walked out, I told him I didn’t want kids.
“Stop trying to protect me, damn it,” I whisper as I dab at the corner of my eye. Stupid feelings getting hurt over something that’s my own fault.
“She’d love to see you while you’re in town.”
Suddenly, the biggest room in this house is too small. Silas’s foot is still in my lap. I’m still tracing random designs along his calf. I stand abruptly, nearly collapsing back down as my ankle protests. “I’ll, um, be back out before dinner.”
“Kates.”
Using the wall to limp down the hall instead of spending another second in that room is not my smartest move. None of them are, apparently.
Heavier footsteps follow.
“Please don’t walk away, Katibug.”
“Not fair,” I whimper as he closes me in.
I always feel small when I’m with Silas, but never in a bad way. More like I’m protected. Like right now, as his large, calloused hands cup my cheeks, the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Can I please go have an unreasonable tantrum by myself?”
“No can do,” he whispers before pulling me into his chest like he did in the store earlier.
Instead of arguing, I let myself give in. Resting my forehead against his chest as his arms hold me tight feels too natural for two people who aren’t together.
“I’d rather you yell at me than take it out on your poor, innocent pillows,” he says as his fingers trace up and down my spine. The melty-brain feeling kicks in about the time those same fingers slip into my hair, removing the band and unraveling my braid before massaging my scalp.
Eyes still closed, I laugh as an image flashes through my mind.
“What goofy thought is in there?” he asks against my temple.
“NHL Network would get a kick out of this. Star center caught embracing ex-fiancée while both sport ice packs on lower extremities.”
He chuckles and shrugs his massive shoulders. “Wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
I giggle, fully expecting to find his usual grin. Instead, the sincerity in his gaze knocks the breath from my lungs. He’s serious?
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I manage to say.
When Mom’s voice carries from the kitchen, he sighs. “Guess we should return to the gallows.”
“That obvious to you, too, huh?”
“They have their reasons.” He nods toward the door, where he’s set my crutches. “I’ll give you five minutes before I come back and carry you out.”
When I resurface from my mini meltdown, the intervention is already underway. Mom and Noah sit on one side of the table with Silas across from Noah. The fourth plate is next to Silas. I can either act childish—which, trust me, I’m great at—or I can sit next to him.
My heart squeezes as I lower myself beside him, his words still looping in my head.
No, it most definitely would not be bad to find our way back together.
But now isn’t the time.
Silas spoons mashed potatoes onto my plate, pressing a valley into the top and adding gravy before adding some to his own plate. He continues with all of my favorites, just like he used to. I bite my tongue to keep from calling him out on it, because it’s sweet.
And no matter how much easier it would be to deny it, I love that he still wants to take care of me.
“Sorry for dumping that on you,” he whispers.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to help.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the look he gives me shuts me up. He’s right. I’d have found a way to get to Aubrey. I love that little girl and had the pleasure of watching her grow from infant to four whenever Silas could steal her away. She came into the world at the best—and worst—possible time.
“We can talk later.”
Nodding, I glance toward Noah and Mom. They definitely heard every word, but both pretend to be engrossed in their own conversation about why Noah didn’t bring Jett or their dog Sadie. Mom loves that dog almost as much as she loves us.
Somehow, we make it through dinner without more than surface-level interrogation. But when Silas stands to help Mom clear the table, I know it’s only a matter of time before Noah corners me.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend to annoy?” I ask when he drops onto the couch beside me.
“Yep. But I annoy her daily. I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Making up for lost time.”
“Noah,” I groan, drawing out his name.
He nudges my side before tossing an arm over the back of the couch. “Guessing he told you,” he says.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And, what?”
He leans closer, voice low. “He won’t accept help, Oaks. Not from me or Mom, not from his team, no one.”
“But you think he’d accept it from me.”
He shrugs. “You’re not one to take no for an answer.”
He’s not wrong. I’m stubborn as a mule. Or a pro hockey player. And if it helps the man who I know would risk everything for me, I’ll do whatever it takes.
Heart be damned.
“I’ll talk to him,” I concede. “But I won’t force him. The last thing I want is his resentment.”
“Love you, sis.”
“Uh huh. Love you, too,” I say, snuggling into my brother’s side.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m heading out as soon as Silas and Mom finish up.”
I swat at his stomach, but he blocks my hand.
“You’ll have to be quicker than that,” he says before his fingers attack my sides.
I squeal. “Okay, okay!”
“She’s already injured, man. Don’t hurt her more.” Silas’s voice travels through the room, making both of us jump at the protectiveness in his tone. Noah eyes me, but I quickly slide to the other end of the couch, out of his reach.
Noah stands, shaking his head. “Are you ready to head out? I need to get back home, but Jett and I’ll be up tomorrow afternoon at some point.”
“Yeah.” Silas turns those storm-gray eyes to me. “Brunch tomorrow? I can pick you up. Maybe grab a bite at Sally’s before picking up Aubrey?”
My head nods on its own accord before I clear my throat and tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Um, yeah. Sounds good. Eight?”
I half expect him to walk over and hug me or kiss my head, but instead, he just pats the doorframe and gives me the most awkward wave imaginable. “See you at eight.”
As he walks out, Noah glances between us.
“Not a word,” I warn before melting into the couch cushions with a groan at the weirdness of it all.
“Kiss and make up already,” he says, ignoring me completely. “I’m all for Team Sil-Oaks, but the sexual tension is thick enough to choke on.”