Chapter Six

When I reached the privacy of my room, I allowed the tears to fall. They slid down my cheeks and off my chin while I hunted out my toiletry bag and nightwear. As I brushed my teeth, I sobbed, and when I flopped onto the bed, I buried my face in the pillow to muffle the sound of my misery.

I let the day's emotions pour from me and mourned the life I'd planned. I grieved for the man I'd thought Steven was and the friend I'd believed Cheryl to be. My heart broke, and bitter humiliation swamped me. Disappointment was a dank, dark cloak laying heavily over me, threatening to suffocate me.

When I woke the next morning, I blinked and stared at the red-and-green-striped curtains and flailed in a moment of complete disorientation.

Where the hell was I?

And then it all came rushing back to me with all the grace of Mount Vesuvius erupting.

"Fuck!" I sat, swinging my legs out of bed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

I had to get into gear. Address some of the messages on my phone, call Aunt Mary, and get myself to the airport and on a flight.

Knock. Knock.

"Hang on a sec." I pulled on a fluffy white robe and went to the door. When I opened it, Eduardo was standing there with a trolley laden with silver domes covering plates, glasses of juice, and piles of pastries.

"You slept past breakfast serving time, so I saved you some." He pushed forward.

I sidestepped to avoid being run down.

"I…er…thanks, I appreciate it, but—"

"Don't say I didn't have to, ma choue . I barely saw you at the meet last night, didn't even get the chance to ask how you were holding up."

"I'm holding up." I glanced at the rucked-up bedding and remembered how I'd cried myself to sleep. It had been real ugly crying with hot, bitter tears.

"You are very brave, and very…what is the word, coolheaded."

"I try to think rationally."

He was pouring tea from a pot. "This will help, no?"

"It will. Thanks." I took the steaming mug.

"And this?" He lifted off a steel dome to reveal scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns.

"That will also help." My mouth watered.

"Can I join you?" He revealed another full breakfast. "I also slept late. Mornings are not my thing."

"Sure."

I drew the curtains, and we sat at the table by the window and dug in.

"Have you just woken up?" he asked.

"Yes, guess I needed it. A long sleep."

"You always look this good when you've just rolled out of bed?" He raised his eyebrows and grinned at me.

Self-conscious all of a sudden, I ran my hand over my hair and then a finger beneath each eye to check for mascara residue. "I guess it's just how I am."

"I'm not complaining."

"I notice you get plenty of female attention. Is that for your handsome face and six-pack or your hockey skills, Eduardo?"

He laughed, an easy sound that rumbled around the room. "Girls can recognize hockey talent when they see it."

I raised my eyebrows at him.

He laughed harder. "Okay, okay, they like my appearance, but that's only skin-deep, right?"

I didn't answer.

"It's what's inside that counts," he went on, "in a person's heart, in their mind, the direction of their moral compass. That's what's important. Looks can't ground a person; in fact, beauty can make some people believe they can defy gravity."

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen it in the past. People who go through life knowing that because of how they look things come easy, other people come easy, and opportunities. It is one of the reasons I got so obsessed with hockey. It was all about hard work, skill, keeping it together when shit gets real on the ice. You don't become a Viper because you're handsome, you get on the team because you can score goals and help others get goals."

I liked the way his mind worked, and he'd obviously thought about it a lot. I'd had a similar experience with getting my degree. Achieving a first class grade had nothing to do with my fine bone structure or my forty-one-inch legs.

I stabbed at my sausage. "Ben said you all live close by, in Florida."

"Orlando, yep, we bought in the same community. We were the newbies. It made sense.

"Do you still feel like the newbies?"

"No, we've played a few seasons now, trained five times a week with the team. That is what we are, a team, there is no mention about who joined last."

"And the captain, Rick, Ramrod, he's been there the longest, is that why he's captain?"

"Mmm, he's been there a long time, but probably Phoenix has been there just as long. But Ramrod is captain because he's a great leader, always consistent, fair, supportive, do you know what I mean?"

"Great qualities. He's married, right?"

"Why, you want him to replace your good-for-nothing groom?"

I laughed. "I think my wounds are a bit fresh, so no men for me, not for a long while."

"That is understandable." He set his hand over mine and squeezed. "You must take as long as you need to overcome this…this…setback."

"Setback." I nodded slowly. That was one way to describe my current situation.

"But when the right man comes along, be brave enough to open your heart and love again," he said. "Because love is the only really worthwhile thing to live for."

"Not hockey?" I picked up my juice, removing his hand.

"Ah, you are quite right, love and hockey, they are the reasons to live."

When breakfast had been devoured, Eduardo left me to shower. He was going to the rink with the rest of the team, checking the place out in preparation for that evening's game.

Once dressed in jeans again, and a red Tommy t-shirt, I pulled in a deep breath and picked up my phone.

I winced at the screen—five hundred and fifty-two messages, eighty-nine missed calls, and an image of Steven on the lock screen.

The first thing I did was snap a photograph of Cardiff Bay and change the screen. If I never saw his face again it would be too bloody soon.

And then I called Aunt Mary.

She answered on the second ring.

"Pippa, my darling, oh, I have been so worried, you poor girl. Where are you?"

The sound of her voice brought tears to my eyes. "I'm…I'm in Cardiff."

"What on earth are you doing there?"

"It's a long story." I paused. "I haven't looked at any messages yet, that's going to require some strength."

"Of course it is, darling, but do reply to Trevor, he is beside himself."

"I will, yes, of course. What happened, did you tell Steven why I wasn't marrying him?"

"Too damn right I did. Right there in front of the entire congregation and the vicar. I marched up to the altar and told him you'd found out he was a lying cheat and so you weren't coming to the church. And then I pointed at Cheryl and called her out, too."

"Oh God."

"Well," Aunt Mary went on, "you can just imagine the crowd's shock, but it was Trevor who took it the worst."

"Trevor?"

"Yes, he practically hurdled the pews to get at Steven, and then when he did, he threw a punch, hitting him square on the chin and sending him reeling backwards."

"A fight…in church…that's not—"

"And the best man, I forget his name."

"Patrick."

"He had to stop Steven from throwing a punch at Trevor, and what's his name…Trevor's husband?

"William."

"Yes, William, he had to stop Trevor from going at Steven again, and all the while, the vicar was waving the Bible around and shouting for calm. But calm didn't come because Casey, he's lovely he is, he went for Cheryl."

"He didn't hit her?"

"No, but he told her, plain as day, that he'd always known she was a shallow, conniving bitch with no morals and the worst fashion sense he'd ever seen."

"He said all that?"

"Yes, and you know what, I think it was the fashion comment that upset Cheryl the most."

"What did she do?"

"What do you think?"

"She went to Steven?"

"Yep, she did, and they left together. Hand in hand. Practically ran from the church, and they haven't been seen since."

"They deserve each other." I paused. "What happened to all that food, at the reception?"

"We still went. It was a bit odd, minus a bride and groom to be honest, but I said it was what you'd have wanted. I know you hate waste."

"You're absolutely right, it would have been a shame to let good food go to waste, and I'm sure everyone was hungry after all the…excitement."

She was quiet for a moment. "But tell me, how are you? What a shock, and how did you find out and—?"

"I'm okay really, better than if I'd got myself wed to a rat."

"I guess that's true."

"I just need a bit of time to figure out what to do. I haven't got any shoots for two months so I have an open diary."

"And are you going to stay in Cardiff?"

"No, it's still too close to Steven and Cheryl. I'll get myself a flight booked, treat myself to somewhere nice and get my head straight."

"You always have a straight head, you get that from your mother, cool in a crisis."

I said nothing. My mother getting unexpectedly dropped into conversation always pulled me up, not in a bad way, just in a I-miss-her-so-much way.

"I know you'll do the right thing," Aunt Mary was saying, "but you know where I am if you need me, and if I can do anything to help at all, just call."

"Thank you, I will, and I'll let you know where I am, too, wherever I go, that is."

"Okay. And remember I love you, Pippa, my darling."

"I love you, too, bye."

I ended the call and wiped away a tear I hadn't noticed spring free. I'd be lost without Aunt Mary in my life, she always knew what to do, even, so it seemed, in a church with an absent bride.

"Right, Trevor," I said, ignoring all the other messages and going straight to his on WhatsApp.

What the hell! Sweet pea. Call me…NOW

I went to the next one.

What is going on?

The church is full and waiting for you…

Where are you?

Have you changed your mind about marrying him?

OMG! Your Aunt Mary has just told everyone that he's been cheating with that old slag, Cheryl. Bastard.

I thumped him for you. We're at the reception now. Food is AMAZING.

Call me!!!!!!!!

Where are you?

Sweet pea, I'm worried.

The rest of his messages were of a similar nature. I typed a reply.

Thank you for thumping that lying slimeball, you really are the best agent in the world, though defending my honor with your fists is not in your job description. I'm as well as can be expected, you know me, stiff upper lip, but I need some time to process. Losing Steven and Cheryl is the second worst thing to have ever happened to me. But I'll be okay, and I'll be in touch soon. Love to William xx

I hit send.

A reply came straight back.

Oh, thank goodness you're alive. And I totally understand if you don't want to talk about it, go take some time. You know where I am if you need me. William sends big hugs and kisses to you. Be safe, know you are loved, sweet pea. Don't let the bastards get you down. Speak soon.

I checked again. There wasn't a single call or message from Cheryl. I swiped delete on both her and Steven as contacts. It was time to move on.

And move on I would. I drew up Cardiff Airport on my phone and started searching for the next flight out. Dublin in half an hour, that was no good. Later in the day Amsterdam, and then in the evening Majorca. None of those were any good to me.

Damn it.

I flopped back on the bed and closed my eyes, exhaustion coming over me. It was as if I'd run a marathon, two marathons. My limbs were heavy, my body barely able to hold itself together.

Blackness enveloped me. It was welcome, a relief, and I let myself sleep and sleep and sleep.

A small tapping at my door stirred me.

With a yawn I stood, tucked my hair behind my ears, then opened the door.

"Hey, how you doing?" Gina stood there in jeans and a Vipers hoodie.

"I've been asleep."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, I probably needed to get up."

"Yeah, you did, the game starts soon."

"Game?"

"Yeah, Vipers versus Devils, it's going to be a good one." She paused. "Unless you managed to book a flight to somewhere?"

"Er, no, I didn't."

She pulled a face. "I know, right, Cardiff is fairly limited, we have to go via Dublin tomorrow to get back to the US."

I nodded.

"So come watch the game, you might enjoy it."

"I don't know, I—"

"Here." She thrust another Vipers hoodie at me. "Come give the guys some support. The home crowd is huge and very vocal, so we need all the Viper fans we can get."

"But, I—"

She glanced at an expensive diamond watch. "Come on, we gotta make a move."

"Can I have one minute? To freshen up." I stood tall and raised my chin. I wasn't a delicate peach that would bruise at the slightest bump or the sort of raft that would sink in a storm. I'd been through worse than this, and perhaps a new experience was just what I needed.

She smiled. "If that means you're coming, then sure, go ahead, I'll meet you in the lobby in five, and Pippa…"

"Yeah."

"I think you're gonna love hockey, it's addictive."