Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
FARRAH
I haven’t seen Bruce since the last home game I went to, the one where he looked stricken and miserable when I saw him after the game.
Over a week ago.
It broke my heart seeing him like that, and again when he called that night and explained it was torture not to be able to celebrate with me the way he wanted to. And that it was starting to not feel right to hide it, but that telling Remy could ruin everything for the team. He sounded frustrated with my brother, and I’m feeling the same way. If it was any time other than playoffs, I’d march up to my brother and tell him right this moment that I’m falling for his goalie—yes, I’m falling for him, I can’t deny it any longer.
Plus, the Eagles’ schedule has been insane now that they’ve moved onto round three after powering through and winning four games in a row. The fast pace, and the intensity of it all has Remy on edge. He’s always struggled with shutting down when he’s overwhelmed—part of being neurodivergent—but I haven’t seen it this bad since he was a teen.
He can only focus on one thing right now, and that’s winning this next round. Poor Amber has to deal with his moody butt every evening while I excuse myself. It’s hard to be around him when he gets like this…stressed and hyper-fixated. Especially when I’m harboring feelings of resentment that he’s keeping me and Bruce apart.
Bruce and I have Facetimed in between his practices, work outs, away games, and two Melarrah Events. But we haven’t had a moment to see each other.
Mel and I had one event this past week while the guys were away, a ninetieth birthday party for a sweet grandma that was planned by her twenty grandchildren. This woman hadn’t just built a life…she built a freaking legacy. I felt a little jealous of her. It was a reminder that I might never have that. Something I need to talk to Bruce about, if we ever have a moment to see each other.
I was hoping to see Bruce when he got back from Texas, but he ended up with Jackson for a few nights. Jackson takes precedence over me, as he should. I know Bruce takes his responsibility there very seriously, and that’s something I respect about him. He seems like this big, silly goofball, but he’s the most loyal and caring person I’ve ever met. He’s going to be the best dad someday, and the weight of telling him about my infertility issues is pressing hard on me, along with everything else. My memory of finding out the fertility issue was with me and not with Connor comes back full force. The indignation inside of me at not being able to do what should come easily…the sadness of feeling less than other women. There’s a heaviness in my heart I can’t shake.
My heart longs to see Bruce and talk to him about all of this, but I can’t even see the one person who could make me feel light again.
And—on top of all of that—today my parents, sister, and her husband just arrived in town for Remy’s two home games this weekend, the first two games of round three. I can’t get away without having a good excuse, and I don’t want to set off my mother’s curiosity. Especially after the talk she gave me about Bruce last time she was here.
I’m rolling my sister’s suitcase into one of my brother’s upstairs guestrooms when I turn and see her and her husband, Harvey, having a silent conversation back and forth with only their eyes and eyebrows.
I study them both as they communicate. Her husband, Harvey, is kind and unintimidating, but maybe I only feel that way because he’s about the same height as me. His features are soft too, like his demeanor. He has rounded cheeks and a nice smile, light brown hair, and bright blue eyes.
My sister is the opposite of me in every way—minus her dark hair—with her chocolate brown eyes and petite figure. She gives my brother-in-law one last eyebrow raise, then he glances at me and excuses himself to go to the bathroom. I have an inkling he doesn’t need to use the bathroom.
Felicity shuts the door as soon as he’s gone and locks it. “Okay, spill. Tell me everything that’s happened with the goalie. I looked him up by the way! Wow. Am I crazy, or is he a hotter version of Kristoff?”
My head falls back with a laugh, and it soothes something inside of me. I needed my sister more than I realized. I miss having someone to talk to who’s in no way connected to the D.C. Eagles. All my girlfriends here are way too emotionally invested in this whole thing and knowing how it affects the team. Felicity probably hasn’t even thought about that, she just wants the tea.
I pull her into a long hug. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she says, hugging me back before shrugging away and sitting on the guest bed. It’s made up neatly with fresh white linens, but Amber added some fun, pink throw pillows and a hand-painted floral art piece above the bed. “Now don’t change the subject. Any new developments with him?”
With a sigh, I sit down beside her. “Well, we gave in and kissed again. And then again…and again.”
She squeals and claps then quiets down and waits for me to continue.
“So, we decided to see where it goes, and we’ve been seeing each other more, whenever we could. But it’s hard with playoffs.” I sigh heavily, and then my mind goes back to my brother. “And Remy was kind of a jerk to him when he thought there might be something going on, so now we’re keeping it just between us, but it’s getting harder and harder. I just want to tell Remy and be done with it, but he’s such a mess right now. Like he can handle the playoff pressure…barely…and nothing else.”
She nods, hanging on every word I’m saying. “You think Remy would be upset if you told him?”
I nod.
“And then he and Bruce would play poorly and lose the playoffs for the whole team.”
“Yep,” I say, popping the p .
She blows out a raspberry, a few long tendrils of dark hair flying up in the process. “Yeah, I can see how that’s complicated. Can you just wait until the end of playoffs? Remy will be on a high from winning the cup and everything will be hunky-dory.”
I blink. Felicity sees the world in a very positive way, which isn’t a bad thing, but she can seem out of touch with reality. I love her brightness, and never want it to dull…but also, she could be a little more realistic.
“We have at least three more weeks of playoffs, Felicity. That’s starting to feel like a long time.”
She shoots me a soft smile and touches my shoulder. “It’ll go quick! Then everything will be fine.”
I snort a laugh, and she shrugs. “I’m staying positive.”
“As usual.”
She bumps my arm with hers. “So, how serious is this? You sound serious.”
A smile spreads across my face, I try to tone it down, but I can’t. “I’m really falling for him.” I roll my lips. “But I need to talk to him about the fertility issues before it gets too far. I’d rather end things sooner than later if that’s going to be an issue, you know?” My heart hurts just thinking about it.
Felicity wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Not every guy is an idiot like Connor, Far.”
“I hope not.”
A knock comes from the door and Felicity jumps up to answer it.
It’s Harvey. “Can I come in now?” he asks.
She steps out of the way to make room and Harvey steps inside, but he hardly has time to move out of the way before the rest of the Remingtons barrel into the room.
“This is where you’ve all been hiding!” My dad’s voice booms, filling the cozy guestroom with his big personality. Nella is in his arms, and she giggles at his loud voice.
He and my brother might look just the same, but their personalities couldn’t be more different.
My mother chuckles, cozying up next to him the way she always has. She kisses Nella’s cheek quickly before saying, “We talked about ordering pizza for dinner, does that sound okay to you guys?”
Remy sticks his hands in his pockets, not seeming thrilled with the idea, but he stays quiet. I know no matter what we order, he’ll be eating one of his healthy, macro specialized meals. He and all his teammates are being very strict with their diets during the second half of playoffs, making sure their energy and performance isn’t hindered by junk food.
Amber pats him on the shoulder knowingly. “Pizza sounds fine to me,” she tells my mom with a smile.
An hour later we’re all downstairs eating pizza—except Remy, who’s grumpily munching on his grilled chicken, whole wheat pasta, and steamed broccoli.
My family is seated around Remy’s large table, country music playing low on the Bluetooth speakers—I believe it’s Jake Owen. One of my brother’s favorite candles is lit at the center of the long table and everyone is happily eating and catching up. Nella is loving all the attention, and the pizza, and for once she doesn’t even seem on the verge of a breakdown.
Between her and Remy, I’m not sure who’s wound tighter lately. Is it terrible comparing my brother to a two-year-old? Not if it’s an accurate comparison. I silently narrow my eyes at him, even though he’s not looking at me.
Sibling relationships are a funny thing…you spend your whole childhood together and they know you better than anyone else on the planet during that time. And no matter how much you bicker or how awful you are, you know at the end of the day you’ll still love each other. Until one day you grow up and live apart and then your bond changes.
Unless you grow up, and they still think they know what’s best for you. Then you revert to bickering again, I guess. Only Remy doesn’t realize how badly I want to lay everything out in the open and fight with him. I’m not sure who’s going to snap first, me or Bruce. Hopefully neither of us.
Three or four weeks until playoffs are over. Or sooner if they lose…but I don’t even want to think about that.
I’m simmering silently in annoyance, nibbling my pepperoni pizza but barely tasting it, when I hear my dad loudly whisper to my mom. Did I mention he’s not a quiet man?
“Have you told her yet?”
Mom pretends she didn’t hear him, taking another bite of her slice.
“Have you told her yet?” he repeats, louder this time.
Mom’s eyes move up to my dad’s in a look that says would you please shut up?
Her eyes flit to me, and I know the her in his question means me.
“Tell me what?” I ask, setting my pizza back on my paper plate.
Mom sighs and shoots my dad a glare. He grimaces and takes a drink of his Coke.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Let’s enjoy dinner.” Mom’s gaze drifts to Amber. “This pizza is delicious.”
Amber looks between me and my mom with a worried expression. “Um, thanks. It’s from our favorite pizza place.”
“Mom, just tell me. What’s going on?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” she answers without looking at me.
Felicity drops her pizza onto her plate with an annoyed sigh. “Oh, my gosh. Just tell her whatever it is, and we can move on. I want to play a game!” She grins, and her husband kisses her temple.
Mom looks at Dad and he shrugs. “Rip off the Band-Aid,” he says.
My mother purses her lips and tucks her shoulder-length hair behind one ear. She looks at me, her face serious enough that I’m not looking forward to whatever it is she has to tell me.
“I wanted to tell you this later, without a crowd.” She gives Dad an annoyed look. “But I’ll get on with it, I suppose.” She clears her throat. “I ran into Connor’s mother at the grocery store. He’s getting married next week.”
My entire body freezes for a long moment. Too long. I feel like my blood is frozen. My mind goes to the photos I saw of Megan and her husband with Connor and his girlfriend. The woman next to him in the photo looked so young I assumed it wasn’t serious, and that he was just enjoying his newfound singleness. I mean, the blonde from the photo must be barely out of college. Slowly, I inhale a deep breath. It’s okay Connor is moving on. So am I. I’m just feeling surprised by it is all. I don’t love Connor anymore; I don’t want him in my life.
Best of luck to the young, fresh wife he will have.
“Okay,” I finally say. “He should move on with his life. I know I have.”
The look on Mom’s face as she studies me can only be described as trepidation. She hesitates before speaking again. “There’s more. They’re getting married quickly because she’s pregnant.”
My stomach roils, and I have to wrap my arms around my middle and swallow down the bile rising in my throat. This revelation makes it hard to breathe, hard to think. All that runs through my head is that Connor gets to move forward with his life with a new wife and a baby . He gets to live the life I wanted. The life I’m not sure I can ever have.
I don’t want Connor… but I also don’t want him to be happy. Is that awful? I want karma to give him early male-pattern baldness and an erectile dysfunction for making me believe he’d love me forever just to cast me away the moment things didn’t go as planned.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, reeling from this news. But when I finally look around the room, everyone’s eyeing me with worry, waiting for me to speak. I stand up and push my chair back.
“I’m sorry; I just need a minute,” I rush the words out, I don’t know if anyone can understand me or not. Everything around me seems to blur, my brain and vision is fuzzy. All I can think about is my ex-husband happily holding a newborn baby.
I flee to my apartment. I don’t think I even take a breath until I’m up the stairs and through the front door of my quiet space.
Locking the door, I let the tears come. My knees buckle, and I lean my back against the front door and slide to the floor. I stay there, hugging my knees to my chest, until there are no tears left inside of me.
I wouldn’t want Connor back in a million years, but it’s all just so unfair. My thoughts wanders to Bruce. He’s so kind and caring and attentive. But so was Connor at first.
I can warn Bruce ahead of time, unlike Connor, about my…issues. But who’s to say he won’t change his mind down the road? How do I know he won’t give up on me like my ex did, then throw me away for a newer, younger model. Just like he’ll eventually do with his pickup.
And not only that, but Bruce is so young. Does he even know what he wants? Or is he just chasing the fantasy of true love and marriage after watching all his friends get married?
My head—and my heart—ache from crying and worrying. I can’t even seek refuge in Frozen because it will only remind me of Bruce.
And Bruce McBride would be better off with someone who isn’t me.