44. Sawyer

Chapter 44

Sawyer

The puck whizzes past me, but I don’t even notice until Coach Dunaway’s shrill whistle jars me out of my daze.

“What are you doing, Townsend?” he bellows.

I shake my head, trying to clear it, but I’m struggling. It’s been about two weeks since Violet left, and I’ve felt every fucking day of it. I keep hoping and waiting for the ache in my heart to fade like it should, but it hasn’t—and I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going to.

It feels like I’m just going through the motions of life, but I’m doing it without one of my essential organs. I’m functioning, but barely, like a zombie. Even the commercial shoot with Beaumont didn’t do anything to move the needle, because all I could think about the entire time we were shooting was how much I wished Violet was there to see it.

Dunaway must be pissed though, because he furiously waves me over. “What the hell is going on with you lately?” he barks when I finally skate over to him at the box. “It’s like you’re on another planet or something!”

“Sorry, Coach. I’ll get it together.”

“You’d better. I don’t want to bench you, but we can’t have you half-assing it like this when it counts. Got me?”

“Loud and clear,” I tell him and hustle back out onto the ice to repeat the drill I was supposed to be doing. I do a little better this time around just to save myself any more grief from Dunaway, but my heart still isn’t in it. It feels hollow, just like everything else lately, but it’s enough to get him off my back, and that’s all that matters.

Dunaway slams on his whistle again when we finish the drill, ending practice, and I’m one of the last players to leave the ice. It’s bad enough getting grilled by Dunaway in front of the whole team like that, and I’m not in the mood to have the rest of the guys pile on me about it, so I hang back on our way to the locker room. Inside, I strip quickly while the others are distracted by bantering and giving each other shit, then get right into the shower where I know they’ll leave me alone for a little while at least.

The water feels great, but it’s not enough to stop the thoughts flowing through my mind. None of them are productive, but they just keep coming, and I’m in no hurry to do much of anything so I just stand and let the water wash over me in some vain hope that it’ll wash the thoughts away with it.

But it doesn’t work.

Annoyed, I finish my shower and throw on my clothes. I was in there for so long that most of the rest of the team is already gone. But I’m feeling so weighed down that I find myself sitting on one of the locker room benches without remembering how or when I sat down—or how long I’ve been there. My forearms rest on my thighs and my head hangs toward the floor while I take more deep breaths than I can keep count of. I know from my feet on the ground that I’m here, but I feel like the room is floating away from me.

Until someone settles on the bench beside me, jarring me out of this bizarre trance I fell into. I glance over and tense immediately when I see it’s Reese. He eyes me tentatively like I’m some sort of feral animal for a few seconds before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

All I can do is stare at him blankly. I’m not sure what to say, or if I should say anything at all to him after the way I lied. This whole thing is a mess, and I don’t want to make it any worse, especially now that Violet’s gone and we should be moving past all of this to get back to normal.

But the truth comes rushing out anyway.

“I miss her.”

He nods, studying me. “Are you having a hard time finding someone to watch Jake now?”

I shrug. “It’s back to how it always was, piecing together different people’s schedules to fill the gaps. But that’s not why I miss her.”

“I thought it was just a fling. A short thing while she was in town?”

“That’s what it started as, and what it was supposed to be, but…” I stop short, knowing I’m treading into dangerous territory with Reese. I keep expecting him to jump off the bench and run away because he doesn’t want to hear any of this shit, but he just stays there, watching me and waiting for whatever it is I need to say. “Violet is the best person I’ve ever known.”

He smiles at me, admiration and love for his sister shining in his eyes as he nods. “Honestly? Same. Vi is amazing.”

Our gazes drift back to the floor, neither of us sure what else to say or where to go from here. But Reese finally breaks the silence.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

I glance over at him, unsure what I’m going to find and feeling like the question is loaded as hell, but he’s wearing a neutral expression. I just shrug at him.

“I don’t know. What can I do?”

Reese nods and regards me for a few more moments before he claps me on the shoulder and stands up. “Well, don’t stay in the locker room for too long. Go home and see your son. I’m sure he needs the comfort now too.”

“Yeah, right. Thanks.”

Reese claps my shoulder again and goes to leave, but when he reaches the door, he stops and looks back at me. “When I realized I’d found the best woman I’d ever met, do you know what I did?”

I stare at him and shrug.

“I didn’t let her go,” he answers and leaves the locker room to let me chew on that thought.

Emotions swirl inside me, and I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes while I struggle to sort through it all. What is Reese even telling me to do? Violet has a new life and career out in California, so it’s not like I can fly out there and bring her back to Denver or something—assuming that’s something she would even want. Besides, I’m signed with the Aces, so I can’t leave either, even if I wanted to. And I’m not sure I do, but I’d be a damn liar if I said I wouldn’t consider it to be with her.

One thing I know Reese is right about is that I need to go home and be with Jake. The poor kid has been having a hell of a time adjusting since Violet left, even worse than I thought he would. And arguably even worse than me, which is saying something.

So I grab my stuff and head to the car to drive home. But by the time I get there, I don’t remember anything about the drive. The last thing that comes to mind is climbing in the car, and then the next thing I know, I’m pulling into the driveway at home like I teleported from one place to the other.

Thankfully, Kelsey was free to watch him today. She’s not Violet, but Jake likes her well enough that he tends to have an easier time with her than any of the other sitters I’ve hired. I step inside and hear the TV going in the living room, but Jake doesn’t come hurtling to greet me like he normally would. And I notice that the welcome home banner he made for me with Violet a few months ago that’s been hanging from the banister since is gone too.

“Hey, Sawyer,” Kelsey greets me from the couch where Jake is lying on his back with Chewy in his arms. He’s staring at the TV but clearly not really watching it.

“Hey. How’s he been?”

Kelsey shrugs. “Same as usual. Doesn’t want to do much, hasn’t said much. He wouldn’t really eat either, but I did manage to at least get a few bites of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in him.”

Jesus, is he depressed too?

My heart twinges at the thought.

“What’s the deal with the welcome home banner?” I ask. Kelsey frowns at me and hesitates. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

“Jake had a little bit of a meltdown earlier and insisted on taking it down. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I folded it up and put it in the hallway closet. I figured you wouldn’t want to get rid of it, even though Jake wanted to.”

I sigh and reach into my pocket for my wallet to take out some cash to pay her. She pats Jake on the leg as she stands.

“See you later, Jake. Hope you have a better day, buddy,” she tells him, but he doesn’t even acknowledge her. Kelsey gives me a look on her way over to take the cash from me. “I’m no expert, but you might want to get someone for him to talk to about all of this. He’s taking it pretty hard.”

“Thanks, maybe I will. Have a good night, Kelsey. And thanks for covering.”

“Anytime,” she says and pockets the cash before she leaves. I walk to the couch and hover over Jake. He glances up at me but doesn’t say anything, his little face blank.

“Why don’t we go for a bike ride?” I suggest, hoping to distract both of us from all of this, but Jake shrugs.

“I don’t want to.”

“Come on, it’ll be good for us. Besides, you need to practice.”

Jake sighs and melts off the couch, leaving Chewy behind. I lead him outside to the small garage attached to the house where we keep his bike, helmet, and safety pads, and he stands there lifelessly like a little rag doll as I get him all geared up. “So, do you want to tell me about what happened with the welcome home banner?”

Jake shrugs again. “It was just old.”

“You sure that’s all?”

His eyes drift to mine and they start to water. “I didn’t want to see it anymore,” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper.

With my heart breaking, I kiss the top of his head before I put his helmet on and clip it in place.

“That’s okay. I understand. Sometimes it can be hard to see reminders of people and things we miss.”

“Do you miss her too?”

I smile as much as I can without breaking. “Of course I do. Now come on, let’s hit the road.”

If we keep talking about this, I’m going to melt down too, and I can’t let that happen for his sake. There’s nothing wrong with showing my feelings in front of him, but somehow, I don’t think seeing his dad sobbing is going to do anything to boost his mood.

Jake goes over to the garage wall to grab his bike and wheels it out with me right behind him. I close the door with the keypad and standby while Jake climbs onto the bike. We took his training wheels off right before Violet got here, but he hasn’t really ridden since then so I’m a little worried about him keeping his balance. But that’s another reason I wanted to get him out riding today.

He sits on the bike seat with one leg holding him up. It’s almost as big as he is, but I know he can handle it. “Ready to go?”

“I guess,” he mumbles and kicks off, pedaling and wobbling, but managing to stay upright. I do my best to keep pace with him in case he tips over and so he doesn’t get too far away from me. There isn’t much traffic through our neighborhood, but there’s enough and he’s small enough that I’m worried a driver who isn’t paying attention would miss him. They won’t have that problem with me.

“There you go, you’re doing well!” I tell him, holding one hand out tentatively to catch him if he tips my way.

I honestly expected him to have a harder time after not practicing for so long, but I guess it really is true what they say about never forgetting how to ride a bike.

We make our way down the street without any problems, and as Jake gets more comfortable and steadier, I start hanging back to let him get a little farther away from me. He probably doesn’t want me hovering over him right now, and I don’t really know what to say or do for him anyway, so maybe just spending this time together is enough. I hope it is.

But as we reach a turn in the road and the street starts to slant downward into the bend, Jake picks up speed.

“Slow down, buddy! Remember, push the pedals backward,” I call after him, but his feet fly off the pedals instead and the bike starts abruptly jerking from left to right as his speed gets away from him.

I jump into a run to get to him, but I’m not fast enough to stop him from crashing right into the curb. He lets out a little yelp as he soars off the bike and lands on one arm in the grass while the bike flips over itself and lands next to him. He’s sitting up as I reach him, clutching his arm, and when he looks down and sees an angry slash of red there, he throws his head back and starts to cry.

I fall to my knees beside him, taking his arm in my hands to look it over. It’s not broken, thank fuck, just a scrape. But the scrape is pretty nasty. I’m betting the fall scared him more than anything.

“It’s okay, buddy. You’re alright. It was just a little spill,” I tell him as calmly as I can, but he just cries louder, growing totally inconsolable. I scoop him up into my arms, but he kicks and squirms.

“Mommy! I want Mommy!” he screams.

I frown as I stroke his hair gently, confused. It’s been years since he’s asked for Miriam. Why would he be doing it now?

“I want Violet! ” he wails. “Mommy!”

Oh . The hand I have resting on his hair freezes, and I stare down at the sidewalk with a lump in my throat as the meaning of his words washes over me. My heart thuds against my ribs, a wild, discordant beat that’s almost painful. Fucking hell.

“Violet!” he pleads again, then presses his face into the space between my neck and shoulder, soaking it with his tears. “I want Violet!”

Something cracks open in my chest, and I squeeze Jake tight against me as I sink back to my knees in the grass.

“I know, buddy,” I whisper hoarsely. “I know. I’m so sorry.”