26. Hendrix
HENDRIX
A strong relationship isn’t made up of two people who have never had to fight their way through a storm. It’s two people who’ve faced it together, fought it together, and figured it the fuck out together. A strong relationship is two people who decided drowning isn’t an option.
—Declan Sinclair’s advice to his sons
Walking away from a very naked, incredibly sexy Serena takes more will power than the two and a half hours a hockey game lasts.
Not that I don’t want to see Bodhi. I hate when he’s not with me, especially for away games, but I really didn’t want to leave her in bed.
I throw my glasses and a pair of sweats on as I hear the shower turn on and make my way down the stairs, expecting to see Gracie and Bodhi on the other side of the door. Not Melissa.
“Mel . . . What are you doing here?”
Britt’s mom stands on the other side of the door, two suitcases at her sides and a bag on her shoulder.
Her short white hair held back by sunglasses and a look on her face that I’ve seen on Bodhi a time or two when he doesn’t get his way.
“I thought I’d surprise my boys.” She looks around me and grabs both suitcases. “Where’s Bodhi? Is he awake?”
“Uh . . . He’s still at my sister’s. I got in late last night.” This is so going to bite me in the ass. “Come in. Let me grab your bags for you.”
She kisses my cheek and steps around me. “When’s he coming home? I can’t wait to see him.”
“Mel, I thought you weren’t coming until next week.” I drag both suitcases inside and drop them off at the bottom of the steps.
Her lips pinch as she drops her bag to the floor. “That’s the point of a surprise, silly.”
“Hendrix—”
Oh fuck.
“Who’s that?” Mel asks, her voice tight as she looks up the stairs. “I thought you said your sister had Bodhi.”
Serena pops out of my bedroom, one of my old T-shirts dwarfing her frame. “The hot water isn’t working . . .” She trails off, catching her first glimpse of Melissa. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“No dear, don’t be sorry,” Mel tells her, a forced smile on her lips. This isn’t good. “And who are you?”
Serena looks to me for guidance, and I know no matter what I do in the moment, I’m fucking screwed. “Serena, meet Mel.” I look up at my beautiful girl. “My mother-in-law.”
Her face pales, and I catch a shake in her hands before she straightens her shoulders and grabs the banister to make her way down the stairs.
She’s silent as she comes to the base of the stairs, careful not to touch me as she brushes by and offers Mel her hand.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mel. I didn’t know Britt well, but she was always so kind and so sweet. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Mel drags her eyes dramatically over the woman standing in front of her in nothing but my shirt, and I have the urge to hide her.
To block her from Mel’s prying eyes. “Thank you. She was definitely taken from us too soon. Forgive me, dear, but I’m not sure I know who you are.
” She turns her head my way, and anger is reflecting back in her green eyes. “Care to fill me in, Hendrix?”
“Really,” Serena murmurs, her voice low and shaky as tears pool in her eyes. “There’s no need. I was just going.” She turns, making it up two stairs before Mel opens her mouth.
“Were you going to do that before or after you stole my daughter’s family?”
Serena gasps and my blood boils.
Fucking hell. “Melissa,” I growl. “Stop. You have no right—”
“You moved him across the country, away from the only home he ever knew, for what?” she yells. “Her? Well, I guess that didn’t take you very long, now, did it?”
If I could throw her out of my fucking house, I would.
“You are so far out of line,” I grunt and point to the family room. As pissed as I am, she’s not my priority right now. The woman who just ran upstairs to hide is. “Go. Sit. I’ll be back down in a few minutes to deal with you.”
“Deal with me? Says the man playing house in the shadow of my late daughter.”
“Choose your next words very wisely, Mel, if you ever want to see Bodhi again. Britt and I were complicated from day one. And that woman you just made cry matters more than you’ll ever fucking know.
Now sit your ass down, and keep your mouth shut.
If you’d have come when you were supposed to, this could have all been avoided. ”
I don’t bother looking back as I take the damn stairs two at a time. Her weak sniffles are the first thing I hear, followed by a door slamming shut. And when I step inside my bedroom, she’s pulled on a pair of pale-purple yoga pants and some kind of matching sweater. “Serena . . .”
“Don’t, Hendrix.” She doesn’t look at me as she throws a few things in an overnight bag I hadn’t even noticed when we finally made it to bed last night. “Just don’t.” She yanks on the zipper and slips on a pair of sneakers as her shoulders sink. “I should have known better.”
“Don’t do that, princess.” I step up behind her and cup her shoulders. “Don’t—”
“Don’t do what?” she snaps with a shaky voice. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I have to go.”
She shrugs out of my hold and spins around without looking at me and I know she’s doing it again. She’s fucking running. “Please don’t run this time, Serena.”
“I’m not running, Hendrix. I just need some space.” She moves around me, but I grab her hand.
“Bullshit.” I tug her back. “You’re running. You’ve been looking for a reason to run since day one.”
“Are you kidding me?” She yanks on my hand without looking at me. “Your dead wife’s mother is downstairs, accusing me of being a homewrecking whore who stole her daughter’s family. I’d say that’s a pretty good reason.”
“We know the truth. Isn’t that what matters?” I ask and pull her against me, unable to let her go. Not again. Not this time.
“No,” she cries. “Not when our entire relationship has been a secret. No one will believe anything else.”
“Even our breakup was based on a lie, Serena,” I argue, begging her to stay.
Fire flames in those bright turquoise eyes. “That’s not why we broke up. Don’t you dare rewrite history.”
“Are you finally ready to talk about why we broke up?” I push her, needing us to get this over with. Knowing we’ve been dancing around it for years.
“No,” she whispers and pulls away. “You need to give me space.”
“I’ve given you three years,” I yell, not giving a shit that Melissa can hear every word we say. “Three years, Serena. Don’t you think that’s long enough?”
She shakes her head as a tear falls down her cheek.
“You’ve given me one week, Hendrix. Maybe two, if you count our conversation at the wedding.
Three, if we go by that very first hockey game.
Weeks. Not years.” She steps back and looks at me.
Really looks at me before resignation flashes where the fire was just a few minutes ago. “I’m sorry.”
“Serena . . . I asked you to marry me.”
She shoves my chest so hard, I take a step back. “I need space, Hendrix.”
“I asked you to marry me, and you said no.” I move closer, refusing to give her the space she needs because I know if she walks out that door now, I’m never getting her back. “You. Said. No.”
“We lost a baby, Hendrix,” she cries, her gorgeous eyes pleading with me to understand as the words are ripped from her throat.
“A baby. Our baby.” She hits my chest. “We lost our baby, and while I bled out at the hospital in Seattle you decided the way to fix it was to marry me and move my life to Chicago.”
“You’re what—pissed I wasn’t with you in Seattle? I would have been on a flight that day, would’ve chartered a fucking jet myself, if you’d told me,” I yell back.
“It wasn’t about you not being there. It was about you not listening. Just like you’re doing again now.”
Her words land like a fist to the face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She loses some of her fight and runs her hands through her hair, tugging on the ends. “It means I’d spent nine months rehabbing my knee so I could get back on the field—”
“I know. I helped you,” I fucking remind her. “I was there.”
“You were,” she says softly, wiping her tears. “You did help. And then when the world went to hell, you acted like you didn’t know me at all. You didn’t listen. You just went into fix-it mode, completely disregarding everything I’d worked my whole life for, and expected me to do the same.”
“What the fuck, Serena?” I groan. “Revisionist history? Is that what we’re doing?”
“Hendrix . . .” her hands shake as she raises them to her chest, like she’s trying to hold in the pain, but can’t.
“I was pregnant and fighting for my spot on the team, and then I had a spot but lost the baby. I couldn’t share any of it with anyone.
Not my excitement. Not my heartache. You were across the country.
And I felt so fucking alone.” Her last words come out on a sob that will haunt me for years.
“And then everything hurt, and I was scared and alone and in a cold hospital room losing our baby. And your answer was marrying you.”
Her sobs turn to ice as her eyes chill and her entire face tightens. “You said come to Chicago and that you’d take care of me. That we could try again. You told me I didn’t need to be in Seattle or on that team. To come be with you. Be your wife instead.”
“I wanted to fix it, Serena. I wanted to take away the hurt and I couldn’t do that from fucking Chicago.
” I stare at her trying to figure out what I’m missing.
“I lost our baby, too. We were both excited. We were both nervous about what it would mean for the future, but we both loved that baby for the few weeks that we got to imagine our lives as a family.”