63. KAVI

63

KAVI

He ambushes me right before the last game of the series. The one that decides who wins the Cup.

A poster-perfect blonde with super white teeth, and an almost imperceptible cleft in his chin. Unfortunately, since the last time I saw him, he's not turned into a gremlin. He's still a quintessentially handsome jock.

Even so, I'm repulsed. I try to step back, but there's a wall behind me.

How did this happen? How did he find a chance to corner me at the stadium with no one around?

Tyler's eyes pierce through me. "I don't recognize you."

It's such a brutal sentence to tell someone, designed to make them question everything about themselves. It makes me want to scream, but conflict makes me seize up and go quiet.

Tyler scoffs at my rapid blinking.

"You're being horrible," I finally force out.

"Kavi."

My name is oily on his mouth. I try stepping sideways, but he mirrors the movement, blocking me.

"I'm not horrible," he says. "Even though you obviously think I'm a massive cheater and didn't give me a chance to win you back." His eyes flash. "You don't know how much money I was going to spend on wowing you. It would have made you fall to your knees."

"Go away, Tyler," I plead.

"Don't you want to hear it? To hear how much of a mistake you are making. I'm the Captain of the Seattle Blades?—"

"Stop! It's not about that."

It's not. The thing is, I don't think I'll ever get a black and white confirmation about whether Tyler cheated on me. He'll deny it forever, and it could be the case that he didn't cheat, even if my gut feels so strongly otherwise. But that's also not why I can't imagine being in a relationship with him ever again.

"It's not about cheating," I explain. "It's that I don't want to be with you, Tyler. I've realized that you don't make me feel—" Safe, nurtured, attractive, encouraged, loved. "—all the things I deserve. Don't you see? Ending a relationship isn't a negotiation. Both people don't have to agree that it's over. I can decide I want something different, and that means it's the end of us. I'm allowed to do that."

He comes closer, caging me in. There's a very stubborn set to his mouth.

I've got nowhere to go. Not knowing what else to do, I look over his shoulder, searching, and that's when I see them.

Hughes and Quinn have spotted us. They don't waste time getting here.

Quickly, their bodies insert themselves into the situation.

"Step away from her," says Hughes. His blue eyes have gone shark-flat.

Tyler scoffs. "The guard dogs are here, though there's no reason to have come. I'm having a friendly conversation with Kavi."

His hands go up.

"It's fair to have closure, don't you think? Kavi has been avoiding me for too long. Not answering her messages or my calls and going places her parents don't even know about." His eyes narrow. "Well, now they do. Lokhov's place. I should have known after you called me from his hotel room after that game that's where you'd end up."

Hughes blocks me completely, so I don't have to see Tyler. "You need to shut the fuck up. And run before he sees you."

Tyler snorts. "Who? Lokhov? He's not risking anything off-ice and public?—"

Hughes and Quinn laugh, cutting him off.

Hughes shakes his head. "You've no idea what he'll do for her."

Tyler scowls. "Like what? Nothing is more important than playing hockey and winning. Everything else, personal shit included, comes second. He wouldn't risk his career." He looks straight at me as if summing me up. "No one would."

His words…

He sounds exactly like my dad, I realize.

Living like that, as if family is second-best to ambition in every case, makes a person feel so unwanted. Like they're a burden. Or an extra.

I don't want people in my life that hoard their love, waiting until it's convenient for them to pass it out. You always feel you're not enough.

Quinn smirks. "You don't know how wrong you are about Lokhov. Wait until he sees you and then you'll understand."

No. The thought of Dmitri getting pulled into this mess jolts me. "Go away, Tyler. I don't want to see you again."

"Who says I even want you back?" he mocks. "Don't you realize I can do way better than you?"

Hughes cracks his fists. The scar on Quinn's face becomes stark. Their anger is palpable, but I also don't want them hurt.

As for me, my shock is fading. Tyler is speaking to me as if I'm the Kavi Basra from high school. A girl with no faith in herself. And—maybe—I've been that person for a long time, but I'm not her now.

There are so many things I've accomplished since we've last seen each other. I've broken up with Tyler even when everyone around me said I couldn't do better than him. I didn't move in with my parents because I knew it wasn't healthy for me to do so. And—I still can't believe it—but I took a chance living in Vancouver and moved in with Dmitri. The nerves, uncertainty, and bravery of that decision still floors me, but I'm so proud of myself. If I didn't do that, I would never have photographed the team or met Sonya and made a genuine friend. I would still be running errands for other people, too afraid and uncertain about following my own dreams. But now, here I am. I chose not to play it safe, advocating for and accepting a social media manager position.

And this confident person? Tyler won't like her, I'm sure. He prefers me to be smaller, quieter, and doll-like. For so long, I was an assistant he demanded devotion from.

Fuck. That.

"I've outgrown you so much," I say with such low finality.

Tyler clamps his mouth shut. His cheeks flush with fury, especially when Hughes and Quinn whistle, as if my words were deadly.

That pisses Tyler off more. He tries lurching at me, but can't because an arm from behind has wrapped around his shoulders.

Dmitri is here.

He holds Tyler in place, immobilizing him.

Hughes and Quinn go around, shifting to stand behind Dmitri, blocking his actions with their bodies so people can't notice.

Golden eyes find me. "Tell me what you want me to do to him. Say the word, Kavi. I'll do it."

Tyler sputters, "You make it sound like she owns you."

He flicks a glance sideways at Tyler. "She fucking does . " Then he looks at me again. "I'll rearrange his face, if you want? He'll never look the same again."

He's completely serious. No one is talking him down. Not his captain, Hughes. Not Quinn.

It's the opposite. They look ready to back him in a fight.

And Tyler? He's gone white even as he spurts out, "Seriously? Fuck you."

"No, thank you." Dmitri's voice is arctic. It's never been so bare like this. "But I will fuck you, professionally and legally, if you ever corner her again. Think of all the money I have. You don't think I'll spend it all? I will. If Kavi says the word, I'll hire a lawyer. And if she wants, we'll hire a private investigator whose only job is to dig up your dirt. I'm sure a piece of shit like you has loads he's trying to hide. Cheating. Gambling. Anything illegal."

"He's the type," agrees Hughes. "I'll be pitching in for this."

"Me too," chimes in Quinn.

He's not worth it. None of this is. Tyler tried emotionally destroying me, but it hasn't worked. Mostly, I want to go back and hug the person I used to be. She thought Tyler knew everything when, in fact, he knows nothing. And now, we're giving him more time and attention than he deserves.

"Let him go, please," I ask Dmitri.

There's no hesitation. He does, immediately.

Before Tyler can do anything, I look at Dmitri, Hughes, and Quinn. "I love and appreciate you all, but I've got this. His words–" I smile. "I don't know when it happened, but they don't make me feel small."

"Stop being so dramatic, Kavi," Tyler spits out.

"Actually," I say, looking at Dmitri. "Let me talk to him. Properly."

Dmitri's eyes narrow on Tyler. He's hesitating, but then he looks at me. At the entirety of me. Or, at least, that's how it feels. "I'll be right here," he says. "A few feet away. Does that work?"

I nod.

Dmitri, Hughes, and Quinn shift backwards. All three of their arms cross, and even from this distance, they look menacing and protective enough to make the top of Tyler's brow shine. His demeanor might be crass, but he's sweating.

"You're making a mistake, babes," he starts.

His tone has sweetened.

I take in a deep breath. "How so?"

"Leaving me."

It would be rude for me to laugh—and probably counter-productive—so I don't. "You can believe that, but I don't. We're over, Tyler. And… I should have sat you down and told you that, maybe. We've been together for a while." Too long. "But I was afraid of seeing you again."

He laughs. "You're talking to me like I hit you."

"You didn't."

"Exactly!"

"Physically. How about the emotional impact your words had on me? The constant negging you slipped into your sentences. How you tried to worm insecurities into my head, so that I always had to rely on you for strength, but couldn't build up my own. I was afraid of seeing you, because I was afraid of losing my confidence. But I'm not scared about that happening now. I'm—good. More than good."

Tyler steps forward. My hand goes up.

From the corner of my eye, I see Dmitri move closer.

"Don't," I warn Tyler. "If you want to finish this conversation with me, you'll keep your distance. Not only because they will get involved, but because—" My shoulders go back. "I won't stand for it. You can't intimidate me with your size. Got it?"

Tyler's mouth pinches, but he eases backward. "I love you?—"

"And I want a different love. A kind of love that doesn't confuse me."

"What confusion? I've bought you so many things?—"

"You did." I walk around him, so his back is to the wall. I'm never going to feel cornered by him again. "You made it so I had to feel like I was the luckiest woman, because a guy like you was into her. Don't you get it? I'm not underneath you. I'm strong. Kind. Giving. Capable. Talented . I bring a lot to the table. And I'm finally choosing to be around those that build me up. We're over, Tyler. I've explained my reasons, but I don't owe you more of a conversation than this. Accept it or not, but this is our goodbye."

He's spewing how I'm making a mistake by losing him and that I'll regret this, but I've already turned away from him. I'm walking into the arms of a glowering, grumpy man who hugs me as if he can't get enough. A man who kisses the top of my head, asks me if I'm alright, and tells me that he's so fucking proud of me.

Tyler glares at us. But then he notices the rest of the Wings players heading our way. We've been spotted. Heads have turned. People are noticing the commotion.

Tyler doesn't walk.

He rushes out of there, but not before warning us that this ends tonight. On the ice.