38. Wren

38

WREN

M y heart felt like it was about to burst from my chest as I raced through the building toward where Mal was. I pumped my arms and legs as hard and as fast as I could without overdoing it, and when I finally made it to a barely lit-up arena, my eyes zeroed in on the one person that changed my life inside and out.

Just like James said, Mal was out there running drills with his good arm while the other was hanging loosely at his side. His movements were jerky and forced, almost like he was taking out his frustrations on his skates and hockey stick.

I hadn't prepared a speech, an apology, or any words to say to Mal. Instead, I was going in blind, with my nerves and heart rate peaking to a dangerous level now.

Then just as he made a sudden movement that caused him to flinch, I reacted hastily.

"Mal, what are you doing?" I shouted over to him, but he kept on skating as if I never said anything. Without a helmet on, I could see his facial expressions and just how focused he looked.

"Mal!" I called his name out again and this time, he acknowledged it by skidding to a stop on his skates, flinging ice everywhere.

"Go home, Doe," he growled gutturally without giving me a glance.

Sighing, I crossed my arms over my chest.

"No, you're obviously upset and I know that it's because of me."

He shook his head angrily, causing pieces of his hair to fall over his forehead. Then finally, he took the opportunity to shoot his eyes over in my direction where I felt my whole body stiffen.

Even from a distance, his eyes were clouded in darkness that did nothing to ease my confidence. If anything, I was wearier than ever.

"Upset?" He chuckled coldly. "You don't know the half of it. Now, get out of here."

He ripped his stare from mine and began to skate off in the opposite direction of me.

Frustration fueled my next moves as I stepped out onto the ice in my tennis shoes. It wasn't my best idea or the smartest, but I had no other choice.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mal."

He hadn't noticed my presence out on the ice yet, but it didn't take long because on one fumbling step toward him, my feet flew out in front of me causing me to fall onto my ass. Everything happened so fast that I didn't even see Mal skate over to me and drop down to his knees beside me.

"Why would you come out here with no skates on?" he demanded. "You could've gotten seriously hurt." He then tried hiding his worry with a glare.

"It was the only way to get your attention." My sight was trained on his eyes but everything about them looked cold and distant. "Why would you come out here when your shoulder is injured?" I tossed back at him, but clearly, he wasn't in the mood for my questions.

He sighed.

"Don't risk your safety to get my attention when you always have it."

The need to throw my arms around his neck overwhelmed me. To tell him how sorry I was for running out on him and to confess everything about how I felt about him. It was the perfect opportunity to do so, but once he realized I wasn't hurt, he rose back onto his feet and skated off.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" I called out. "I didn't mean to hurt you by leaving this morning, especially after last night and what we… shared." My voice had gotten softer as all the flutters I had from yesterday came rushing back. "I had a moment of regret and I was scared. So scared of what I was feeling and everything else that always seems to get in the way of my finding happiness again."

Mal had now stopped in the center of the rink with his back to me. His shoulders were rising and falling in elongated motions that made me feel like I was finally being heard. That what I was saying was finally getting to him.

Then finally, after a long pause of silence, he responded.

"I'm not doing this with you, Wren."

My heart sunk.

"Oh, so I'm Wren now." I used my palms and pushed myself back up onto my unsteady feet.

I was fuming now. Frustrated by his quick change in demeanor and the words he had so carelessly forgotten that he had told me last night. It wasn't fair because I wasn't alone in these apprehensive thoughts, I was just the one who decided to act upon them when I was overwhelmed.

"You were always Wren," he grunted as he peered over his shoulder at me. Once he realized that I was standing again, he unwillingly came up next to me where he took ahold of my arm to keep me steady.

I felt like bursting into tears.

Why did he have to be so stubborn and so remiss to my feelings? Couldn't he see that I was sorry? That if I could do it over again, I would have never left him?

With my arm in his hold, he started to pull me to safety, but with a quick, sharp tug of my arm, he released me.

"No," I shouted firmly with the shake of my head. "I'm Doe. I'm your Doe."

My confession must have rocked him to his core as a pained expression broke out on his face. Like he couldn't bear for me to say I was his.

"Stop," he growled while hitting me with a firm glare. Sweat was dripping down his brow as his lip curled. "You're not my anything. You made that perfectly clear when you left me."

Tears burned my eyes but I refused to back down.

"You left too," I reminded him. "And yet, here I am forgiving you."

"I left because it was better for everyone."

I was stunned.

How could he think that?

"You left because it was better for you," I argued, though I hated how it sounded. I wasn't trying to get further on his bad side, but I needed him to know how I felt.

His eyes narrowed and in a short few seconds, he had closed the distance between us.

"Me? You think I left for me?" He snarled. Almost nose to nose now, I couldn't help but quiver from the intensity of his tone and the way he was looking at me.

I wanted his soft, caring eyes.

The ones that told me I wasn't alone in what I was feeling, but I knew I hadn't fully reached him yet.

"I left because how the fuck could I face anyone knowing that it should have been me that night?" His voice cracked, causing my heart to crumble. "The moody, mediocre hockey player who had no one is still alive and breathing, while the best man I've ever known, who had his whole life own front of him, is fucking gone. How is that fair to anyone? How is that fair to Greg and Shelia? You?"

Immediately, I went to cup his face.

"Don't, Mal. Don't say that ever again. Promise me?" I demanded through my tears.

He looked torn on whether or not to let me hold his face or not. His eyes told me this was exactly where he wanted to be, while his words said differently.

"Don't pretend like you've never thought about it," he whispered. "Why couldn't it have been me instead?"

My heart broke.

For him.

For me.

Not once did that thought ever occur to me, so I shook my head firmly.

"Never." I wiped at the sweat that was staining his upper cheek. He looked even more broken now than before. "And it breaks my heart that you would think that."

His eyes closed as if soaking in this moment.

I waited for him to slip his arms around my waist, or at least place his hand on top of mine, but it never came. Instead, he reluctantly pulled away from me on a wince.

"I'm not him, Wren. I'll never be him."

I hadn't realized I was crying until now. Couldn't he see that I wanted him? That despite everything, I was slowly becoming his, if not already.

There was nothing comparable between Mal and Hayes and the feelings I shared for them. It was different. The only similarity was how strongly I felt toward them.

And it broke my heart that Mal compared himself to the man I lost all those years ago.

I didn't want him to be anyone but himself.

"I don't want you to be Hayes," I said through tears. "I want you, Mal. I want you as you are, and I think…" I paused, watching as his eyes widened a fraction. My throat suddenly went dry and for a moment, I was scared to finish what I was saying.

Actually, I was terrified.

The air had even shifted around us, but I knew I had to lay it all out. Regardless of my nerves, fear, he had to know everything I was feeling.

"I think you want me too," I confessed. "Actually, I don't think, I know you want me, Mal. You want this. Us."

If someone could look shredded up into pieces because of my words, that's exactly how Mal looked. Torn, confused, angry, he ripped his stare away from mine and growled to himself.

"There will never be an us," he shouted. "It can't happen. We can never happen. It's wrong."

I went toward him.

"Then why doesn't it feel wrong? Don't you think that I'm fucking pissed at myself for feeling this way? Wanting you even though I know I shouldn't." My words came out as a plea. Begging for him to recognize us and what we have. What we could have together.

"Don't," he grounded out firmly. "You don't want me."

I laughed. Sarcastically—manically—because he had to have known that was a lie.

"I do, though. God, you know I want you," I cried out. "How could you not see it or feel it? I feel you everywhere, Mal. In my head, my heart, bones, my soul. How could I feel so much, and you say you don't feel anything at all?"

It was obvious he was just trying to push me away, but I didn't understand why. Especially now, after everything he admitted last night.

Why?

His chest was heaving, his eyes were intense, and I thought for a moment I had him.

"Tell me you don't want me. Tell me you don't want this."

With my eyes, I begged for the truth. For his honesty, because I knew I wasn't getting it.

"I don't want this, Wren. I don't want my best friend's girl."

My stomach dropped as my eyes blurred with more tears.

"I'm your girl…" I whispered under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear it.

"Fucking stop, right now," he snapped.

His face was red with fury and finally, he released his hockey stick by throwing it roughly onto the ground beside him.

"No, Mal. Admit it. That day that I came back into your life I was."

"You want me to admit it?" He ate up the distance between us, his nose once again lined up with mine. "You want me to admit that all I can think about is your fucking smile and dream about a future where I can wake up next to you every morning? Is that it? Or do you want more?"

My mouth opened and closed.

"You want to know how badly I want to strip you bare and memorize every inch of your skin before I fuck you? How I want to kiss your mouth again and never fucking stop?"

Oh. My. God.

My throat went raw and could barely contract around the words to respond with.

"Yes," I replied in a meek, timid voice. "I want you to admit everything."

"We won't work, Doe."

His arms were resting at his sides, but I could sense his need to touch me.

Hold me.

"We will," I argued. Then brushing my nose along his, my eyes closed. "We have to." Lifting my palm, I laid it against his cheek again. Already I felt better feeling his warm skin against mine.

I felt safe, comforted.

"No more running, no more denying this," I demanded. "So please, just kiss me already and let me learn how to love you the way you deserve."

A rush of air blew past his mouth and before I knew it, his lips came crashing down on mine.

He finally surrendered.