Chapter 5
Jordan
For the second time in just a few days, Victoria is beside me.
Fuck, but it feels comfortable.
Like we’ve done this a million times before.
I guess we have. Different vehicle, different circumstances, but still somewhat the same.
And this time there’s a calm between us I’ve never felt before. Not with a woman anyway. I still have questions, and frankly, if we’re going to have a brutally honest conversation, I don’t know how long things will stay calm. But it’s nice to have this moment, fleeting though it may be.
“Are you going to miss class?” I ask as I pull into the parking lot of a restaurant that’s known for its great breakfast choices. In fact, it’s a place we used to come to all those years ago.
“Yeah, but it’s fine.” She glances at me. “Parker’s? Really?”
“It was close,” I say, looking over at her. “Would you rather go somewhere else?”
“No.” She pauses. “Don’t you have practice?”
I shake my head. “Optional morning skate. I opted out.”
She almost smiles but seems to catch herself. “Should you do that?”
“When Coach says it’s optional, he’s not playing games. It means some of us need the morning off to take care of our bodies or our lives. I’m doing both.”
“Okay.” She gets out and follows me inside, where a harried hostess seats us by a window.
“Mocha latte, please,” she says to the waitress.
“Black coffee,” I tell her.
The waitress leaves and we both seem to be focused on the menu.
“It’s the same,” Victoria murmurs.
“You haven’t been here lately?” I ask curiously.
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t go out to eat much. You know how Dad feels about frivolous spending and I try to stay on a budget for my own stuff.”
“Does he charge you rent?”
“No. But I have a car payment, insurance, gas, my phone, clothes. Everything but rent and utilities. And it’s not like I work full-time, though I do my best to get thirty hours a week in.”
“And school full-time too?”
“Yup.” She puts her menu down. “I don’t know why I’m looking—it’s not like I can ever say no to the banana pancakes here.”
I chuckle. “I’m having the same. No one makes them like they do here.”
The waitress brings us our drinks, takes our order, and then disappears.
And now there’s no more small talk.
I have to know what happened that night, no matter how painful it is.
“Tell me about the night of the miscarriage,” I say quietly.
She sighs, toying with her coffee mug. “Honestly, I don’t remember a lot.
After the car accident, they gave me something to relax me, and I was vaguely aware that they said I was having a miscarriage.
Mom was crying, but all I remember is my father yelling and pacing, talking about what he was going to do to you when he got his hands on you.
I started crying and couldn’t stop, so they sedated me.
By the time I’d gotten through the worst of the physical part, and then got home, my whole life was turned upside down.
” She pauses, finally looking up. “And I never heard from you again.”
“Your dad was still making noise about statutory rape,” I say quietly.
“I had to hire an attorney, in addition to the team attorney. The team was in the playoffs and I was out with a broken collarbone. Everyone was calling me a problematic partier—even though I was completely sober and we hydroplaned in the rain. It was an accident, but I was getting vilified in the press.”
“I know.” She meets my gaze. “My father played a part in that. I tried to tell him to stop, that it was just an accident, but he was on a rampage.”
“You blocked me,” I say after a beat.
“They took my phone and wouldn’t give it back until I had a new number.
They made me promise not to talk to you, that there was a lawsuit regarding the accident.
I got them to drop it by telling them I wouldn’t say you forced me.
So, we came to a compromise—they’d leave you alone if I promised to never talk to you again. ”
My hand freezes, cup midway to my mouth, as I stare.
I had no idea.
She basically sacrificed our relationship to save me.
Fuck.
And I thought she was just a daddy’s girl, who ultimately gave in to her father because it was easier than fighting for me. Except she’d fought for me in the most important way of all.
“I did it because I believed you’d come for me,” she continues after what feels like a long silence. “I thought you loved me and would fight for me, so I did what I had to do to save you. And then you just…ghosted me.”
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.
“I didn’t…” I shake my head. “Wait. I didn’t know about any of that.
I had to hire an attorney and even though the law was on our side, the court of public opinion was coming after me hard.
And your dad was threatening to sue me for damages since you were hurt in an accident that was technically my fault.
My attorney told me that your father was willing to forgo the lawsuit in exchange for me not contacting you again.
” I pull in a breath as I meet her gaze.
“I thought you’d reach out once you graduated.
It was only six weeks or so. I thought you’d move out, come to me…
and you never did. Then I got sent down to the minors and at that point, I was done. ”
We sit there, not moving, not drinking our coffees, not doing anything but watching each other.
“I thought my dad was right,” she whispers, “that you never really loved me.”
“I thought everyone was right, that you were just a gold-digger and once it got ugly and I got sent down, you figured a guy who wasn’t making a million dollars a year wasn’t worth the aggravation.”
To my surprise, tears fill her eyes. “That’s not true!”
“Seems like there were a lot of half-truths back then.”
Our food arrives, and neither of us says anything as the waitress puts steaming plates down in front of us. We also don’t even look at the food. Instead, we’re still staring at each other, as if these new revelations somehow change everything we thought we knew.
“You, uh, need anything else?” the waitress asks, looking back and forth from one to the other.
“No, we’re good. Thank you,” I reply automatically.
She moves off, and Victoria finally picks up her coffee mug, taking a sip.
“I’m sorry about my father,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry about…all of it.” I reach across the table and hold out my hand, palm up. And wait.
She hesitates, but then slowly rests one of her hands in mine.
“I never had a chance to grieve,” I say. “The loss of our baby. Losing you. I was just doing damage control, trying to heal physically over the summer so I’d be ready for hockey in the fall.”
“Did you get any help?” she asks.
“You mean…therapy?” I chuckle. “No. Not then. About two years ago, in the off-season, I talked to someone because I wanted to make sure I was ready to be back on the Knights.”
“You’ve been doing well.”
Our hands are still clasped, and I can’t believe how good it feels. How soft and warm her hand is, and how much I want to yank her across the table so she can sit next to me.
That probably wouldn’t be prudent, though.
For all I know, she has a boyfriend and has moved on. Just because we’re clearing the air doesn’t mean there are still feelings involved. Well, not romantic feelings anyway. Just a lot of shared history and pain. Pain that we’re hopefully working through today.
“You, uh, still watch?” I ask slowly.
“When Dad isn’t paying attention. He hates the Knights now, always roots against you.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s like a child sometimes.”
“Still hates me, huh?”
She shrugs. “I guess. We don’t talk about you anymore. Not for a long time. Ivy’s pregnancy kind of overshadowed anything to do with you, especially when Will just joined the Navy and disappeared. That’s Charlie’s father.”
“I would have taken care of both of you,” I say firmly. “You know that, don’t you?”
She smiles, but it’s a sad, wistful smile.
“I do. To be honest, it kind of hurt my feelings that you thought I would hide your kid from you. I wished more than anything that I hadn’t lost our baby.
We were too young, but I already loved him or her.
And I would have happily kept it. Even if you didn’t want to be involved. ”
“That wasn’t even an option. I can’t speak to what kind of dad I would have been at nineteen, but there would have been money and at least a good amount of time in the off-season. I know my parents would have wanted to be involved too.”
She nods. “I know.”
“I wish…” My voice trails because it’s hard to articulate exactly what it is I wish.
That things had been different?
That I’d been different?
That her father wasn’t such an ass?
All those things are a given.
The only question now is how to move forward.
Can I just take her back to school, drop her off, and walk away without looking back? I did it once before, and everything inside of me is screaming that’s exactly what I should do now, but there’s a tiny part of me that doesn’t want to.
“You wish?” she prompts when I just sit there turning it all over in my mind.
“I wish we could go back in time and make things right,” I say.
She shakes her head. “But then we wouldn’t be who we are today. Or where we are.”
“Are you…happy?” I ask carefully. “Just, in general.”
She wrinkles her pert little nose, green eyes thoughtful.
“I don’t know if happy is the word. I’m content.
I’m too busy to think about the state of my life, if I’m honest. I’m in school Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from ten to two.
Then I’m at work from 2:30 to 9:30 Monday, Tuesday, and Friday.
And from nine to five on Saturdays. Then from ten to four every other Sunday.
The rest of my time is spent studying or helping with Charlie.
Once in a blue moon, like Friday night, I go out with my friends, but then I work a double on Saturday to make up for the hours. ”
“Do you graduate in June?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Then what?”
“I look for a job and start saving to buy a house or condo. Assuming my parents don’t start asking for rent.”
“And you’re, uh, single?” I shouldn’t ask but I can’t seem to help it.
She narrows her gaze slightly. “Does it matter?”
I shrug. “Not really. But it might if I was going to ask you if you wanted to do this again sometime.”