18. Tanner

EIGHTEEN

TANNER

PRESENT DAY

I can't stop my hands from shaking as I grip the wheel of my Tesla. A ride that would normally take me forty-five minutes is now closing in on the two-hour mark because I keep passing by my destination instead of just growing a set of balls and parking the car. Just being back in town for the first time after so long is making me anxious enough, especially knowing that I may have to face the consequences of my mistake. But it's time. I can't avoid it forever and it's been long enough.

I'm not even completely positive Grace will be here. It is her parents' fortieth anniversary party and I know how close they are, but she would've graduated from CCA last year, so I'm guessing she's well into her career at this point. She may not have the time off to travel back home for the weekend. Not everyone has months of freedom from their job like I do each year.

I was drafted late in the first round by the Boston Blizzard four years ago. That day should've been the best day of my life, but there was a dark cloud hanging over me. I smiled and graciously thanked the commissioner and the Blizzard organization for making my dream come true, but when I laid my head on my pillow that night, I felt empty. Like something was missing.

We won the Super Bowl last month, and I was named Most Valuable Player. We fought our asses off all season long, and the victory was well-earned for my guys. This was yet another huge career milestone for me that was tainted by the realization that I was incomplete, and that I only had myself to blame for it. It's weird how even when you have millions of fans screaming your name and cheering for you, you can feel completely and utterly alone.

Making my way around the corner and turning onto Journey Lane for about the fifteenth time today, I take a deep breath and pull to the side of the road, parking my car. There are vehicles lining both sides of the street, which doesn't really surprise me considering the amount of people that love and adore Bill and Libby. They were always like a second set of parents to me. Until I broke their daughter and left her alone to put herself back together. I turn off the car, looking at the two houses that I basically grew up in. One of which, I fell in love in. And she might be in there.

I've been trying to prepare myself for what I might find when I walk through those doors. The likeliness of her not being here is slim, so I'm expecting to see her at some point today. Will she be alone? Will she be here with a boyfriend? A husband? Children? Call me a masochist, and maybe I am, but I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've imagined her holding a baby that belongs to the person I wasn't man enough to be five years ago. I wonder all the time where we'd be if I would've just turned back around after leaving her behind and told her the truth. I was head over heels for her, and my fear of losing control, paired with being scared that she might someday resent me for being the reason she didn't live out her dreams, stopped me from giving us both the one thing we wanted more than anything .

I never stopped wanting her. I've loved her every day since I left Hope Harbor, and the wound I created when I cut her out of my life is still hemorrhaging. I'm afraid that once I go in there and see her with someone else, it might actually kill me.

But I did this. If that's where she ended up, I deserve to see it. I deserve whatever kind of pain it brings when I realize that she really isn't my girl anymore. Who knows? Maybe once I do, I can get the closure I need and move on with my life. I've come to grips with the fact that I will never love anyone again, but maybe knowing that she's safe and taken care of by someone who gives her everything I didn't will make it easier for me to find happiness in my life and career. Or at the very least, be able to celebrate my successes without feeling like they don't mean anything.

I turn off the ignition, wiping my sweaty hands on the front of my pants before getting out of the car. As nervous as I am, I just want to rip the Band-Aid off. It has to be done. My mind is going in a million different directions as my feet carry me to the door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for what seems like hours until it swings open in front of me.

As soon as our eyes connect, all the breath is sucked from my lungs. The smile that was plastered across her face just moments ago turns to complete horror as she looks back at me like she's seen a ghost.

"Hi," is all I can manage. She's fucking beautiful. I don't know how it's possible, but she hasn't changed, yet looks so much different all at the same time. Her hair that used to fall in waves over her shoulders is cut a little bit shorter, framing her heart shaped face perfectly. Her lips are still plump and pink, and I'm instantly taken back to the days when I could kiss them for hours. But the thing that catches me off guard the most is her eyes. They're the same bright blue they were last time I saw her, but there's a hardness behind them. Even as shocked as she is right now, I can tell that this is not the same girl I left behind five years ago.

She doesn't say a word. She just blows right past me, flying off the porch and down the steps toward the driveway.

"Grace, wait," I say, turning and running to catch up with her. Instinctively, I reach out and grab her arm to stop her. The heat that travels through me elicits a hundred different memories all at once, pulling every single time I've ever touched this woman from the depths of my mind right to the forefront as if they happened just yesterday.

She stops at my touch, stiffening but not turning to face me.

"Grace," I whisper, my voice trembling from the adrenaline coursing through me, "can we please talk?"

She turns around, and the look on her face hits me like a pass rusher straight to the chest. It's blank; completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Any hopes I had of being forgiven for what I did go down the drain, because the sweet, innocent, carefree girl I remember is no longer there. Left in her place is a woman who is hard and closed off. At least to me.

I did that.

"No, we can't talk," she says flatly. "You can get your hand off of me and leave me alone."

We both look down to where I'm holding firmly to her forearm, and I let go as if she's on fire. The white mark my fingers left behind is visible, and as it fades back to its normal color, I breathe a sigh of relief that I didn't accidentally hurt her.

Again.

I close my eyes and shake the memory of the bruises I left on her away just as she turns to walk down the driveway.

"Please," I beg. She freezes again, and I think maybe she's giving in to my request, but she whips back around and storms in my direction, stopping when our toes are practically touching. Her vanilla scent hits my nose and I try not to let it consume me, which is pretty easy when her hand reaches out and slaps me across the face. I push my tongue into my cheek, looking down at the ground, because while it wasn't physically painful, I've never been hurt so badly by a single strike.

"Five years!" she cries out. "You go away for five years without so much as a text or call. I poured my heart out, and you left me crying in the middle of the road. Now you want to talk? Fuck you, Tanner! Fuck. Y?—"

"Babe, is everything okay?" a masculine voice says from behind me, prompting us both to look back. "I heard you yelling. You g—oh, hey Lake. What's up? Haven't seen you in a while."

I swallow, trying to speak, but the words come out choked. "Hey, Cash," I say as he moves past me, standing next to Grace. I watch in absolute horror as he reaches out, pulling her into his body with an arm around her waist and she leans into him for comfort.

Cash Hadley.

My high school backup quarterback.

The last guy to touch her before I did.

And by the looks of the diamond ring that slowly glides up his body before pressing against his chest, Grace's fiancé. My heart plummets in my chest as it glints in the light, and I have to look away as bile rises in my throat. I've had nightmares about this very moment, but none of them could've prepared me for the reality of it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not feeling well," she says, giving him her best fake-as-fuck smile. I know it's fake because I know her inside and out, but he clearly doesn't, because he lets go of her and smiles back, nodding.

"Okay. Well, I was in the middle of talking to your dad about the housing project. Go home and lie down. I'll be back when I'm done here. "

She nods her head, prompting him to press a quick kiss to her cheek before turning to me. "I assume I'll see you inside?" he asks. I just nod in response because I can't fucking talk with the image of him putting his lips on her playing on repeat in my head. "We'll catch up," he says, and I can't think of anything I'd rather do less.

I shouldn't have come here. I knew there was a chance that she would be with somebody when I decided to make the trip back to Hope Harbor, but I think part of me was hoping that she had waited or that she would be alone. Which is ridiculous, since I gave her absolutely no indication that I was ever coming back for her. I only have myself to blame for the pain I'm feeling right now.

We watch as Cash hustles back into the house, clearly consumed by the conversation he was having with Bill before he heard Grace screaming at me.

"You should go in," she says quietly. "My parents will be happy to see you. Goodbye, Tanner."

And with that, she turns and walks away, leaving me to curse myself for ever putting us in this position in the first place. I stare, watching as she crosses the street, walks three houses down and disappears into the garage. It looks like she's living in the old Robinson house now, not in California like I had originally thought she might be. As kids, we used to use their driveway as a turnaround with our bikes because our parents didn't want us going close to the main roads. The aging couple was always so nice and would even bring out popsicles for us on especially hot days. I have a million memories with her in front of that house, and now she lives there with another man. The man that stepped up when I threw her out like she was nothing.

But the truth is, I loved that girl more than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. More than football, or winning, or any of the other accomplishments I've ever made. None of them even come close to making me feel the way I felt about Grace Valentine.

I thought I was doing the right thing to keep her safe and happy all those years ago, but I know now that I was wrong. Seeing her today made me realize that the closure I was hoping for will never come, and now my punishment for breaking us both is to watch her love someone else.