Library

Chapter 9

I take the heating pad out from the closet, grab the bottle of Motrin, and set them on the kitchen counter. She might have tried to be secretive about it, but I could see through the Walgreens bag enough to notice the box of tampons. I know my wife, and her periods have always been awful for her. We might not be on the best terms, but I want her to at least be comfortable.

For as long as I’ve known her, more often than not during her cycle, she’d end up in bed or on the couch for a few days, clenching her stomach. She was so strong when it came to anything else, but her periods were debilitating. I think the most frustrating part was that it was obvious it wasn’t normal to have pain like that, and yet the doctors always brushed her off and would try to say birth control was the answer.

My phone pings, and right away, I know it’s either my mom, Klay, or a teammate. Because, well, who the fuck else would it be?

Logan: Stopping in to see you tonight, big fella. Not taking no for an answer either. I know you miss me.

For a moment, I just stare at the message. Because right now, the last thing I want is company. I’ve been home for five days now. In those five days, Paige has forced me to eat, practically crammed my meds down my throat afterward, and then reminded me when it was time for me to do my PT exercises. I feel exactly how I did the day I left the hospital, and that’s aggravating as fuck because I’m young. I’m in shape. I shouldn’t feel this run-down.

Logan: I see you aren’t responding. I should have led with: Amelia wants to come see Uncle Kolt. She has something for you.

I look down at the message from Logan and scowl. If it wasn’t for his adorable kid, I’d probably send him back the middle-finger emoji in response to him saying he’s coming over tonight to visit me.

Me: You’re a lucky asshole that you have a kid I actually like.

Logan: Like I said, I know you miss me and my handsome face.

Me: No jokes—that’s the rule. My heart can’t take your shitty jokes.

Logan: Fine.

Logan: But I promise … you’ll “wholeheartedly” enjoy this visit.

Logan: Oh, and by the way … Walker and Poppy are coming too.

At the end of the last one, he sends a kissing emoji, like a jackass. The last thing I want to do is visit right now. And I also don’t know how comfortable Paige is going to be, especially since I’m almost positive this will be the first time she’ll be seeing Poppy since before she left.

She not only left me, but she walked away from our whole Sharks family too.

At his corny joke, I send him back the middle finger without thinking twice, and in true Logan form, he sends back a completely unfazed message.

Logan: You love me. I’ll see you soon.

Setting my phone down, I look around before Paige walks into the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” she says, but before I can tell her I’m fine, she smiles. “Let me go ahead and answer the way you’re going to anyway … you feel fine.”

“I was going to say, I’m fucking perfect.” I groan, “And now, Logan’s bringing his big mouth over here later. Only good part of that is, I can see Amelia.”

She gives me a strained smile. “Amelia seems to have really taken a liking to you, Uncle Kolt.” She takes a sip from her water. “Might be good for you to see your friends.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’d like to be left the hell alone,” I utter. “And apparently, Poppy and Walker are coming too. So, more people will ask me how I’m doing. Like I’m eighty years old and passed a kidney stone or some shit.”

Poppy is very pregnant right now. But I have no idea how to tell Paige that without making her sad. I know she and Poppy used to joke about getting pregnant at the same time. But obviously, it just wasn’t in the cards for us.

At the mention of Poppy and Walker, Paige’s body visibly tenses. But she brushes it off and attempts to look more relaxed. “Hey, if you don’t want me to be here when they visit you, I can go for a ride. Really. This is your house. And it’s your recovery.”

“Again, Buttercup, it’s our house. And if you’re ditching me to go on a ride, I’m fucking going too.”

“You need to visit with your friends. They just want to make sure you’re all right.” She smiles. “Fine, I don’t want to be your scapegoat. So, I’ll stay. Which means … so are you.” Clearing her throat, she pulls her sweatshirt on. “Another thing … before you were discharged, I asked the cardiologist to explain your activity level and what you can and can’t do.”

“And he said we should have sex,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “I mean … I knew he seemed like a smart guy, but he’s even better than I imagined.”

“No, dipshit.” She shakes her head. “He said short walks would be good once you got your strength back. You’ve been doing great with your exercises. It’s a gorgeous day outside. I saw someone’s story on Facebook this morning that there are still a few leaves left on the trees. I’ve been so busy at the office the past month; I haven’t even gotten to go leaf peeping. Let’s go check it out.”

“Oh yay, leaf peeping!” I say, doing my best to imitate her voice. “Pumpkin spice season, y’all!”

“First off, pumpkin spice season was over at midnight on Halloween. It’s peppermint mocha time. Second, you know, you’re strong enough now to take an ass whooping,” she says with a shrug. “Hurry the hell up. It’s windy today, and I want to catch the leaves before they’re all on the ground in crunchy piles.”

“Making an absolute mess of my yard,” I grumble. “Good thing I got a new leaf blower a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah … you won’t be strapping a giant leaf blower to your back.” She shoots me a glare. “So, don’t get any ideas.”

“But it’s the most powerful one that’s made. And I haven’t even gotten to try it yet.” I pout. “And besides, it’s supposed to be lightweight. It’ll be fine.”

“No,” she says quickly before her eyes float to the heating pad and huge bottle of Motrin. “Are you hurting today?”

My eyes slide to look at the items before I relax. “No, I saw your Walgreens bag. The one you were trying to hide. I wanted to make sure you had what you needed. I know how hard your periods can be on you.”

Her eyes widen, and then her entire face softens. “You remembered that, sometimes, I need a heating pad and Motrin when I have my period?”

“Well, yeah,” I say matter-of-factly. “You’re my wife, Paige. I remember everything.”

It takes a few seconds, but finally, the corners of her lips turn up in a smile.

“That’s really nice of you, Kolt. Thank you.”

Some months, she’d be okay. But most months, she’d be bedridden for a few days. No matter what, I made sure the house had whatever she needed. ThermaCare patches for her lower back, plenty of painkillers, and of course, a heating pad for her to use whenever she needed it. I might be a dick to most people, but when it comes to my wife, I just want her to be okay.

The craziest thing about Paige is, even during her most painful episodes, she never wanted it to be about her. She’d pop some Motrin or Tylenol to attend an engagement, even though she was in absolute agony.

Hell, I remember a Thanksgiving when we were supposed to have dinner with her family, and she could hardly walk to the bathroom because her stomach hurt so bad. And yet she felt so bad about canceling at the last minute that she got up and tried to get ready. It wasn’t until I forced her to listen to me and understand that she needed to sit this holiday out and rest that she finally agreed. Even then, she cried for an hour because it was the first holiday she hadn’t spent with her family. And her tears weren’t selfish. No, she just knew her parents would miss us being there and it would be just the two of them.

We lay in bed all night, except when she took a few baths, and each time, I lifted her out of the tub and helped get her back into her pajamas. She told me I was making too much of a fuss over her and that she was fine, but I knew better. She just liked to be tough.

“Do you feel good enough to go for a walk?” I ask. “Because we don’t have to. I can go alone.”

“I feel fine. I’m almost at the end of my cycle.” She pauses for a second. “My periods have been better for a while now,” she says, and I can sense there’s something she isn’t telling me, but I don’t push it because I have my own secrets.

I try to get a read on her, to figure out if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that her cycles have suddenly changed. But when she gives me no indication, I nod. “That’s good, Buttercup. I’m really happy to hear that.”

Her expression looks slightly pained, but she quickly masks it with a small smile. “All right,” she says, jerking her head toward the door, “let’s go. Clock’s a-ticking.”

Letting out an annoyed groan, I follow her toward the door and get ready to go for a walk. When she lived here, she’d randomly decide that we should take evening walks to make us “healthier and happier.” It would last about a week before she moved on to something else. I’d never been big on going for walks, but because she asked me, I’d never say no.

Just like now.

Slipping my sneakers on, I clap my hands together. “Ok, Buttercup, let’s go see these leaves that are hardly going to be there because it’s November. I can’t even contain my excitement,” I say sarcastically, waving my hands around. “It’s gonna be ahhh-mazing.”

Looking over her shoulder, she holds up her middle finger, but doesn’t try to fight her smile. And that’s a win, as far as I’m concerned.

We walk along, our arms swinging near each other, but never touching hands. It’s killing me not to grab hers in mine, but I know she’d pull away from me if I tried.

Stuffing my hands in my front pockets to keep myself from touching my wife, I glance over at her. “I know it’s not easy, being here, so thanks for doing it anyway.”

She hesitates to look at me, but eventually, her eyes find mine. “No matter what is going on between us, I want to see you healthy, Kolt.” She rubs her lips together. “And happy too.” There’s a long, awkward pause. “Are you … seeing anyone?” I know before she even does it that she’s about to overtalk because she’s uncomfortable. “You don’t have to answer that. Sorry, it’s none of my business what—”

“You’re still my wife, Paige.” I spare her from painfully stammering. “Why wouldn’t it be your business?” I shrug. “And, no, I’m not seeing anyone.”

She looks nervous, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, but the wind catches it, blowing it right back to where it was. “Oh. The, uh … tabloids sort of painted a different picture. It’s hard to know the truth.”

“Like you said when I was listening to the reporters on SportsCenter , they need a story. When it comes to my dating life, it’s the same deal. So, they take something small and run with it.” As the last words leave my mouth, her shoulders slump, making me stop in my tracks and reach for her arm. “There was no story. Not with any of the women in the tabloids. You know how it goes—I go to an event, and someone jumps beside me, and then the paps take a picture before I even have a chance to get away.”

She swallows nervously as she starts to walk, making me do the same as I drop my hold on her arm.

“You really don’t owe me any explanation, Kolt. It wasn’t my place to ask.” She chews her lip furiously. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

As her steps speed up, I stop on the sidewalk. “Why? Because you’re scared I might ask you the same question in return?” I call behind her, and slowly, she turns around to face me. “Afraid I might ask about Dexter and your perfect life together? Or how happy it must make your old man that you’re with his assistant coach’s son now?”

Her face twists with confusion and anger before she marches toward me. “I have no idea what you’re even saying, Kolt. Care to explain why Dexter is even being brought up in this conversation?”

“You tell me.” I shrug my shoulders, looking her up and down. “Is he back home, taking care of your three-legged cat right now?”

“What?” She rears her head back. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. My friend Jill is.”

“Why is that? Is he too busy being a douchebag to take care of Rocket?” I know I sound like a fucking moron, but I can’t stop. “Is he too good for a cat missing a leg?”

“Would you quit bringing up the three-legged part?” she snaps. “Simply call it my cat. Or Rocket. My God. And I haven’t seen Dexter in forever. Well, besides in passing at a few games.” She shakes her head, looking at me like I’m crazy. “I don’t understand your obsession with him. You’ve brought him up, like, multiple times now.”

“My bad, I thought you all were cozy.” I keep my eyes fixated on her. “At least, you were two months after you left my ass. You moved on quickly, huh?”

For a moment, we stand on the sidewalk. Her hair flies around in the wind, and the leaves fall from the trees around us.

But eventually, her eyes widen. “Wait, how did you know that?”

I look down for a second before glancing back up at her, keeping my eyes narrowed. “Because I saw you. I heard you laughing too.”

Her entire face sinks, and she looks at me like she’s seen a ghost. “Kolt, my dad wanted me to get out of the house because all I did on my weekends was watch movies in bed or on the couch. He told me if I just went to get a coffee with Dexter—as friends—he’d let me have a cat at their house.” She stops. “Wait, you drove back home?”

Ignoring her question, I squint my eyes to slits. “So, a cat was more important than us?” I bark out. “That’s good to know.”

I turn and start walking back toward the house, and within seconds, she’s beside me. This fight is stupid. I know I sound like a fucking lunatic, mad over a cat. But, fuck, I’m pissed.

“Kolt, stop acting like a child!”

Ignoring her, I take large strides, continuing on. I know I’m being unreasonable, but, fucking hell, I just found out that I lost all this time because I thought she had moved on. If I had simply knocked on the door, would she have come home with me?

Once we get closer to the gate at the end of our driveway, she rushes in front of me, putting her hands on my abdomen to stop me. “Would you just talk to me instead of acting like a caveman? My fucking God, Kolt. Whatever the hell happened when we split, that was my business. Just like whatever shit you’ve been doing is yours!”

I stare at her, stuffing my hands into my pockets again. “You were laughing, Paige. Like … really laughing. The way you used to for me.” I shake my head quickly. “I was barely fucking surviving after losing you, and you were laughing at another man’s jokes. All so that you could get a cat.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she whispers, her lip trembling. “You have to know it wasn’t like that. I was in such a dark place for so long after I moved home. And even that day … I was hurting. I promise you, I was hurting so much.”

“But that’s what it looked like.” I shrug angrily. “And so … seeing you that day confirmed what I had known for a long time. You were better off without me. I was always going to be a weight, dragging you down. So, I got in my truck, and I left. When the papers came, I should have signed them. But in my fucked-up head, I thought, as long as we were legally married, you couldn’t become another man’s wife.” I inhale sharply. “Losing you hurt like hell. But ever finding out you married someone else? It would have killed me, Paige.”

“But you chose this,” she growls, stamping her foot. “You pushed and pushed until I finally broke.”

“I did what I had to do,” I say, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “For you.”

“What are you even talking about, Kolt?” Her voice grows louder. “That makes no sense. What I needed was my husband. Not the guy who wanted to be drunk with his buddies most nights, who couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me.” Her eyebrows pinch together with sadness. “If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have just said it, Kolt. It would have saved me a lot of pain.”

Taking a step forward, I cup her cheeks with force. “Is that what you really think?” I growl, bringing my face lower to hers when I bend down. “You really think that I would ever stop loving you?”

“What else was I supposed to believe?” she screams up at me. “You became a stranger. The man I’d married was long gone.”

My eyes float to her lips. If I kissed her right now, would that fix us enough for her to give me another shot? If I told her the truth—the entire truth—would she listen? Or would she blame me more?

I’ve spent the past eighteen months missing her, and now, she’s so close. But she’s looking at me like she fucking hates me.

I open my mouth at the same time her phone rings, startling us both. Letting my hands fall away from her, I take a step back as she pulls her phone out.

She wipes her eyes, holding her phone up. “This is regarding a patient; I need to get this.” She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “And either way, we shouldn’t be doing this right now. You’re recovering.”

As she answers the call, she walks away from me, stopping at the edge of the driveway, and I stand there, stunned and unable to move.

I never gave her the chance to decide to stay or go. I just did what I thought was right. What if, this whole time … I did the wrong thing? And now, it’s too late, and my wife is too far gone.

Just as I start to walk around the gate, Ryder’s truck comes into view, and I curse inwardly when I see he’s got a few of my other teammates with him. Visiting with Amelia is one thing, but I’m not in the mood to answer my teammates’ questions about my recovery. Not right now.

Ryder parks the truck in front of the gate, and the doors open. Ryder, Smith, and Tripp pile out, all looking like they are fresh from practice, their hair still damp, irking me instantly because I’d give anything to fucking be back in that arena. Or to know that, someday soon, I’ll be able to. It’s the unknown that’s fucking killing me.

I should have at least been watching practice all week, but I’m not even cleared to attend practice because the doctor apparently thinks it would bring me stress. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I know the coaches pulled one of our backup defensemen in to take my place. Harland Clossman is good. He’s young and full of potential. In my mind, he’s probably seeing this as an opportunity to take my spot. And I wouldn’t blame him if that were the truth because, as NHL players, we have to take every opportunity presented.

Even though I fucking hate that.

“Well, there’s our fucking stud muffin,” Smith says, grinning. “Looking better than ever, Kolt K.”

When they walk toward me, I catch Paige eyeing the situation, still on her phone. She turns away when she catches me looking at her.

As he pulls me in for a half hug, he rubs the top of my head before releasing me.

Ryder grabs me. “How are you feeling, ol’ boy?” He pats my shoulder. “You look good.”

“Fuck yeah, he does,” Tripp agrees, coming to my side as Ryder steps back.

“Oh, yeah, I’m just a fucking peach,” I mutter, rolling my eyes before giving Ryder a playful shove to the chest. “The fuck are you doing here anyway? Surely, you fellas got something better to do than visit me.”

“What the fuck would be better than seeing our favorite grumpy asshole?” Smith smirks. “Get better soon though, man. It’s not the same without your grouchy self on the ice.”

“Yeah, way too fucking pleasant,” Tripp says. “Sterns is going to drive us all crazy with his dad jokes now that you aren’t around the keep him at bay.”

“I can imagine,” I say, thinking about how many dad jokes that dude must be rattling off with me gone.

“Leave the man and his dad jokes alone. He went from taking a different girl home every weekend to Daddy Sterns.” Ryder laughs. “If dad jokes make him feel cool, so be it.”

“But it’s too many dad jokes,” I say, shaking my head. “Anyway, how’s practice going? Coach has called a few times, but he’s been vague. Just keeps telling me to focus on my recovery and that my spot will be there when I’m ready to come back.”

“And he’s right.” Ryder nods. “We’ll hold it down, man. We need you. But we need you at one hundred percent, so get better, all right?”

“Doing what I can,” I huff. “But I fucking hate this shit. I feel useless.”

“I fucked my knee up my freshman year of college. Right before my team headed to the Frozen Four,” Tripp says, cringing. “It fucking blew, being that close and then watching it slip away.”

“What’d you do? To make it better before—” I stop, swallowing hard.

“Before you become irrelevant?” Tripp guesses my next words before gripping my shoulder. “That isn’t going to happen, bud. You’re one of the greats. When Coach says your spot will be there when you get back, he means that.”

“Truth,” Ryder says. “And whatever you need from us, you let us know.” He jerks his head toward Paige, dropping his voice lower. “The wifey is helping you recover, huh? Make sure you don’t get that ol’ ticker too worked up … if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off,” I utter just as she starts heading toward us.

It’s plain as day that she’s uncomfortable. For years, she was part of the team family. And now, things are different. And fucking weird. When some of the guys stopped in at the hospital, she made herself scarce. And on the day I left, everything happened so fast because I just wanted to get the hell out of there, so she never really saw them either. Well, besides Logan and Amelia. But nothing is weird for Sterns. He’s just … Sterns.

“Paige,” Tripp says, grinning as he heads toward her, pulling her in for a hug. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the hospital. It’s good to see you, girl. How the hell have you been?”

Her cheeks flood with red. “I’ve been great. How are you?” She gives him a quick hug before she releases him. “How’s your sister? I miss seeing her at the games.”

It’s like once she says that out loud, she realizes what she did and looks down for a split second.

“She’s doing really good. She just got married a few weeks ago actually. The guy’s kind of weird, but he treats her well, and he makes her happy, so that’s all I can ask for, right?”

“Right.” She laughs just as Ryder moves toward her, throwing his arms around her and towering over her small body.

“It’s nice to see a pretty face after looking at these ugly fucks all day,” he says, chuckling. “You look good, Paige. Beautiful as ever.”

“A friend of mine told me about your office in Boothbay,” Smith chimes in as Ryder releases her. “That’s awesome. I love that area. Have you ever gone to the Botanical Gardens during Christmas?”

My eyes fly to hers, but she avoids my stare. All this time, I assumed she lived back home, near her parents. After all, one of the things she threw in my face before she left was that I had dragged her to Maine and away from her family. Sure, she didn’t word it quite like that, but I know that’s what she meant.

“Um, yeah,” she squeaks, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. “Thanks. I love the area. And, yes, I actually went last year. It was so beautiful.”

“I think Walker took Poppy to that place last Christmas,” Tripp says. “Aren’t they coming over tonight to see y’all with Logan and his adorable little family?”

“Um, yep.” She nods. “I think so.”

Once again, I watch her visibly tense. Before she took off, she and Poppy were good friends. I’m sure she’s wondering if Poppy is pissed at her for leaving. From what I understand, they haven’t talked since she left.

“Did you hear she’s pregnant? So you’ll get to see her belly. She has for sure popped. That thing is out there,” Smith says, grinning and patting his stomach for some weird reason. “Can’t believe we’re about to have two Walker boys running around.”

I don’t listen to what comes next because my eyes are on Paige as she learns yet another friend of hers is pregnant.

And to everyone else standing here, I’m sure she looks fine. But I know better. Even though she’s happy … hearing that must also hurt.

As they all continue to chat, her eyes lift to mine.

“I think it’s time for you to take your meds,” she says, her voice small. “Right?”

“Yeah,” I utter.

I’m pissed at her for never telling me she lived so close, but she’s my wife, and she’s hurting. “It is.”

Luckily, the guys take the hint and all say goodbye, giving us each a hug.

“Stop into the arena soon, man. We meant it when we said it’s not the same without you,” Tripp says, climbing into the back of the truck before holding his hand up to Paige. “Real good to see you, Paige.”

Once he closes the door and they drive away, I start toward the house, walking around the gate and away from her. The last thing I want to do is lose my shit on her, especially after she got the news about Poppy, but that’s exactly what’s about to happen. I can fucking feel it.

When it comes to her, I’ve never liked the feeling of anger coursing through my veins. I watched my old man scare the shit out of my mother more times than I can count, and I never want to see that look of fear in Paige’s eyes. But sometimes, I just get fucking irate. And finding out she’s lived in Maine this whole time is sending me there.

I stew, trudging along in silence down the driveway, sulking like an absolute little bitch and not giving a fuck either. She doesn’t try to plead her case for the entire walk, but like clockwork, once the house comes into view, she starts in, exactly like I knew she would.

“You can’t be mad, Kolt,” she says from behind me. “You have no reason to be mad, and somewhere inside of you, you know it.”

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed a bit,” I drawl leisurely.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she snaps back, annoyed.

“Well, babe, like always, you wait until we’re almost home to start a fight.”

She scoffs behind me as her tiny foot stomps. “That isn’t even true, jackass.”

Walking up to the door, I push it open and head inside. “Yeah, it is,” I mutter. “When we were together, you always pulled this shit when I pissed you off. You’d be silent the whole damn ride, ignoring me. Then, just before we pulled into the house— bam —you’d decide it was a good time to call me an asshole and start shit.”

“Well, you are an asshole!” She slams the door shut behind her. “Always have been!”

“Yeah, well, I guess you love assholes then, babe. Because you married me,” I say nonchalantly, like I’m not worked up when, in reality, I’m still fuming over learning she lives in Maine.

“Well, you used to be nice sometimes too,” she sasses, following me as I head toward the kitchen. “Now, you’re just all asshole, all the time. A miserable, bitter asshole.”

“And you’ve turned into a bitch,” flies from my mouth, and I’m instantly mad at myself for taking it there, but right now, I’m holding my ground.

If she wants to play the game this way, I can follow her lead.

When I glance back at her, her face is bright red. I knew that word was going to piss her off. I don’t think I’ve ever called her a bitch before, but right now, she’s pushing my buttons.

I stand on one side of the island and look up at her as she glares at me.

“Take that back, you selfish son of a bitch. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here for your own conscience, babe. Don’t even try to hide that.” I take a few steps so that I’m cowering over her petite body.

“Fuck you,” she hisses. “That’s not even—”

Smirking down, I press a finger against her plump lips. Even touching her pouty mouth has the blood pumping straight to my dick.

“You could fuck me, Buttercup. It might feel good.” I raise my other hand, bringing it to her hip and gripping it slightly. “You’re so worked up and angry. What if you hate-fucked my cock so hard that all that anger spilled onto my dick and you screamed out my name while you drenched me?”

Her eyes glaze over, but she blinks a few times, forcing herself out of it. “Stop,” she breathes out, raising her chin slightly.

“Stop what, Buttercup?” I murmur. “We both know you might hate me, but I’d have you coming in a matter of minutes. Why fight it? It’s clear I have control over your body.”

She’s so turned on that I’m tempted to reach between her legs and feel how soaked she is. But even as fucking wet as she might be, she’s pissed. Her eyes are narrowed to slits now, and I can practically see the smoke pouring from her ears. Before, I’d probably fix this by fucking her into next week. That always seemed to work to take the edge off her fury. She’d claw at my back, pretending she was mad when I fed her pussy my cock, filling her so full that she’d fight back a cry. But that was when our arguments were about small, stupid, insignificant shit. Now? Shit is a whole lot more complicated. It’s not like a tiny cut; I can’t slap a Band-Aid on it and make it go away. Just like I can’t drive my cock inside of her pussy and fix this. Not this time.

But, fuck, it sure would feel good.

I watch her drag in a few long breaths and let them out. Her pupils are huge, and her throat works to swallow. Suddenly, she backs away from my touch and gradually grazes my side with her hand, sending my cock shooting straight up.

It only takes me a second to realize she’s getting my medication. Pulling back slowly, she drags her hand back across my side and near my abdomen with the pills in her hand. She looks down at my growing erection before holding her hand out and showing me the pills.

“It seems as though I also still have control over your body, Kolt.” She licks her lips. “Don’t fuck with me, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

Putting the pills into my hand, she reaches into the refrigerator and slides me a bottle of water. “Take your pills before you give yourself another heart attack,” she says, unimpressed, before she heads toward the guest bedroom and closes the door behind her.

Leaving me with an extremely hard dick and a handful of pills.

“He just had a heart attack,” I say into the phone. “I can’t be here because everything he does pisses me off. And he doesn’t need his bitchy, should-be ex-wife here, making it all worse.”

“I agree that you don’t need to be bitchy to a man who just had a heart attack, pea,” my dad says back. “But I also know you’re hurting and you’re pissed. So, I get it. But have you asked Kolt what he wants?”

“What do you mean?” I frown. “I still want a divorce. It’s clear he hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t mean regarding your marriage—though you two gotta figure your shit out. Your situation is fucked up, to put it nicely,” my dad says matter-of-factly. “I’m talking about … does he want you there? Because right now, everything else aside, it’s about him getting better. His recovery has no room for the pair of you’s bullshit.”

“Gee, thanks,” I grumble. “Not really. I probably should ask him. His mom ended up having to go to the hospital because, after influenza, she got pneumonia. But she’s home now. And I’m sure she is dying to get up here and make sure her son’s okay.”

“But she triggers him, pea. And he doesn’t need that either.” He pauses. “Why don’t you get in touch with the coach? I’m sure he could hire a nurse of some sort to come in and check on him.”

The image of a sexy nurse, wearing a slutty nurse costume with her boobs hanging out, assaults my brain, and I scrunch my nose up. “Um, yeah, I don’t know about that, Dad.”

“You can’t not want him, but also not want any other woman around him, babe. It doesn’t work that way.” He lectures me.

“It’s not even like that, Dad,” I groan. “I want him more than I want anything or anyone. But we don’t work together. You weren’t here for those months when he completely shut me out. I had never felt so alone in my life, and I’m not going back to that.”

“Well, in my defense, you never told Mom or me what was going on. So, how were we supposed to know?” he throws back. “And while that’s not right, marriage has its ups and downs, sweetie. That’s how it goes.”

“I know that, Dad. And I would have been fine with the hard times if I knew there was a light at the end of them. And if I knew … he still wanted me,” I say defensively. “I just thought … eventually, he’d come out of the darkness. I tried. Dad, I tried so hard. But”—my voice breaks, and my throat swells—“it became unbearable, living here with him when it was obvious he didn’t want the marriage anymore. So, please don’t talk to me like I gave up because he had a bad few days. It wasn’t like that. At all.”

“I’m sorry if it came out that way. That isn’t what I think. I know you have loved that boy something wicked since you were kids, but I also believe that after the way things were left, the two of you owe each other a conversation,” he says, keeping his tone gentle. “When is he going to the doctor again?”

“He has an appointment tomorrow, but I’m not sure what they’ll be doing at this one.” I sigh. “If I know Kolt, he’s thinking they are going to tell him he’s good to join the team again. And sadly, that isn’t the reality.”

“Yeah. Keep reminding him that it takes time to recover.” I hear him shuffling around. “And remember, aside from being married, you and Kolt were also each other’s best friend. Just talk to him, Paige. Sometimes, that’s all it takes.” He sighs. “I gotta run. Practice is about to start.”

“Love you, Dad.” I wipe the tears from my eyes.

I love my mom so much. She is a saint and the kindest human on the planet. But I’ve always been a daddy’s girl through and through.

He just … gets me.

“Love ya, babe. Talk soon.”

Once he ends the call, I flop back on my bed.

I know Logan and Amelia are coming over later, and I don’t know if I should go out or mind my business in here. It doesn’t matter what I do; I feel like I’m messing up. This is uncharted territory for me, and I don’t know how to navigate any of it.

Logan, Amelia, Maci, Walker, and Poppy all arrive. And right away, the guys head into the living room with Amelia leading the pack, anxious to see her uncle Kolt, who is grumpily awaiting their arrival. He loves his friends—he really does. But I know visits under this sort of condition isn’t his favorite thing. And he hates the attention being all on him. But I know one thing: seeing Amelia will put a smile on his face—that’s for sure.

I glance anxiously at Poppy, who is visibly uncomfortable, which is an unusual sight. She isn’t the type of chick to get nervous. She’s strong and confident. I’m also a little worried that I’m on her bad side now since I ghosted her. That wouldn’t be good for me. Because black cat? Forget that. She’s more of a junkyard dog when it comes to protecting her loved ones. In her eyes, I’m sure it seems like I deserted my husband and left him all alone.

When I left Kolt, I didn’t just abandon him. I left the entire Sharks family—Poppy included. We had been friends. Really good friends. And yet I abandoned her, and when she tried to contact me, I ignored her calls, all because I was too afraid she’d talk me into coming back.

Now, she’s pregnant, and she has the cutest baby bump I’ve ever seen. All I want to do is squeeze her, but I can’t because the air between us right now is so awkward and we’re barely looking at each other.

“I’m Maci,” Logan’s girlfriend says, no doubt sensing the unease between Poppy and me. “I’m Logan’s … girlfriend.”

Her cheeks heat a little after she says girlfriend , and Poppy nudges her.

“Almost said Amelia’s nanny, didn’t you? You dirty little ho.”

“Shut up,” Maci says but giggles. “I’m not a ho. It just … happened.”

Her laughter dies after a few minutes, and she looks back and forth between us. “I’m going to, uh, go in the living room.”

Poppy gives her a clearly annoyed look, but that doesn’t stop Maci from walking out of the kitchen, leaving us alone.

The silence is painful, which isn’t anything I’m used to when it comes to Poppy. We’ve always been comfortable around each other, but obviously, now, things are different. Finally, I sigh, knowing that I can’t fight the conversations that need to be had. It’s time I face them, especially when it comes to people I care about.

“Look, Poppy, I’m really sorry for just … taking off.” I run my hand nervously down the back of my hair before waving it toward her swollen belly. “But I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.”

Judging by her expression, it’s almost as if I slapped her with my words. Her eyes narrow, and her lips form a hard line for a moment.

Finally, she opens her mouth. “No,” she says, wagging her finger at me. “You don’t get to just come in here and say congratulations to me.”

“But you came in here … so …” I shrug, widening my eyes at her playfully.

Even though she’s being sassy, she’s too adorable with her round baby bump for me to be frustrated. Seeing her this way hurts a little, but not because I’m not happy for her and Walker—I am elated for them. But I so wish I could be pregnant, too, experiencing it with her.

She rests one hand on her stomach protectively, and my heart feels like it’s under attack as I imagine putting a palm to my stomach and feeling a kick, knowing there was a little person inside of there. Growing inside of me.

But let’s be real; thanks to endometriosis, that is likely never going to be in my cards. Oh, and I don’t have a husband anymore. Well, not really.

“Fuck off. You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes. “You ignored my calls for weeks. Until, finally, I gave up.” She pauses, sadness covering her face. “Just because you left Kolt doesn’t mean you had to abandon the entire team. I thought we were friends, Paige.”

“We are!” I say quickly, rushing toward her and stopping a foot before her. “We are friends, Poppy. I love you, and I feel like shit for ghosting you and everyone else the way I did. I just … I don’t know. I think I was in such a bad headspace that it seemed like the only way.” My voice breaks with emotion, and I inhale sharply. “I am so sorry.”

I point toward her stomach. “Can I?” I ask and pray she doesn’t punch me. After all, she’s always been my feistiest friend.

She tries to play it off tough, but eventually, she smiles, bobbing her head up and down. “Anyone else? Fuck no. You? Of course you can.” She points her finger at me. “But I am still mad at you, Paige. You owe me, like … five thousand milkshakes for leaving me.”

“Deal,” I say before I put my hand on her belly, and it’s much firmer to the touch than I thought it would be. I think this is the first pregnant belly I’ve felt though because I’ve never been one to ask to touch someone’s stomach. I feel the slightest nudge against my palm, and my eyes fly to hers. “Did he …”

Her smile grows. “He’s kicking you, Auntie Paige.”

I sniffle, and even though my eyes grow misty because I’m scared I’ll never feel a baby moving around in my belly … I’m also tearing up because I just felt my friend’s baby kicking. And how magical is that?

When the kicks stop, I drop my hand and smile at her. “I am so happy for you and Walker, Pop. And I hope, more than anything, I can earn your forgiveness enough to be a part of this baby’s life.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and she starts to sob. “Goddamn you. Don’t you know I’m hormonal right now?” She sniffles, throwing her arms around me. “I know, deep down, this isn’t easy for you. And for that, I’m so sorry, Paige. I wanted to tell you myself. When I heard Smith talking on the phone with Walker earlier and heard him say that he told you I was pregnant, I was so upset with him.” She squeezes me tighter. “I can’t blame his dumbass because I know he probably doesn’t know about … your struggles. But I’m so sorry that you didn’t hear it from me first.”

Pulling back, I put my hands on her shoulders and force her eyes to look at mine. “You listen to me. I am so happy for you. Don’t ever, ever let my struggles take away from how excited you should be for this baby.” My vision blurs with tears, and I blink a few times, letting them fall down my cheeks in a steady stream. “I love that you thought about me. But I promise, I’m fine.”

She wipes her eyes and sniffles. “I never want to cause you more pain, Paige.” Her lip trembles. “I never want to hurt you with my happiness.”

“And you’re not.” I press my forehead against hers. “You are going to make the very best mom, Poppy James.” I smile through the emotion. “I know it.”

I mean every word. And I really am so incredibly happy for her and Walker because they both deserve the world, but I’m also sad, and my heart somehow feels torn up as thoughts of a baby of my own begin to consume me. It’s selfish to think about myself at a time like this when it’s Poppy’s moment.

What kind of person is jealous of her friend’s pregnancy?

You are, bitch.

Her arms wrap around me again, and she buries her head against my shoulder. “I’ve missed you. I’m mad at you for leaving. But I love you, and I’m so fucking happy you’re back.”

I hold her tightly. And I don’t mention that I’m not here to stay. Not because I’m not going to, but because this moment is about our friendship, about us coming back together. I’m not going to say anything to rip us apart. Besides, this time, when I leave … I’m going to do things differently. I’m not going to ghost everyone.

“I love it, Amy.” Kolt grins down at the card Amelia made for him before hugging her closer against him on the couch. “Looks just like us, doesn’t it?”

When he spins it around for all of us to see, we smile.

“I’m telling you, she’s about to be a famous artist,” Logan chimes, pointing to the two stick figures with their giant circle eyes and lined mouths. “Art right there.”

“For real,” Poppy says in agreement before looking at Walker. “Babe, how talented is she?”

“Reeeeally talented.” Walker nods before giving Amelia a cheesy thumbs-up. “You’ll have to give me art lessons sometime.”

“She did good.” Maci smiles proudly. And even though Amelia isn’t her daughter, it’s obvious she loves her as if she were. “You worked hard on that. I can tell.”

“Clyde drooled on it a little,” Amelia says, pointing to the corner of the paper. “Sorry, Uncle Kolty.”

Kolt frowns before giving her another reassuring smile. “All good, sweetie. That just makes it even better. Who doesn’t love Clyde drool?”

“Uh … me,” Logan mutters. “I don’t even need a mop bucket. He basically does that part for me.”

Maci rolls her eyes but giggles before turning toward me. “So, Paige, Logan told me you’re a physical therapist. That’s amazing!” she says sweetly. “And you have a practice of your own?”

Normally, I’d be beaming, proud of my accomplishment. But Kolt and I haven’t talked about the fact that I have an office an hour away from this house. An office that is currently closed so that I can take care of my estranged husband.

“I do.” I nod, taking a sip from the tea I made for myself before they arrived. “It keeps me busy—that’s for sure.”

“I can only imagine,” she says, eyes wide. “Logan said you live over in Boothbay? I love that area. It’s so beautiful with the fishing boats and shops.”

“It is,” I say, smiling. “Are you from Maine?”

“She’s a Boston girl.” Logan grins, pulling her against him and making her entire face light up.

“He’s right. I grew up in Boston but moved here a few years ago.” She shrugs. “I fell in love with the coast of Maine and couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

“I felt the same way. It just felt like home here.” My eyes float to Kolt’s for a split second, and I feel a pang in my chest when I see the pain in his eyes.

“Definitely.” She bobs her head up and down. “I’ll have to come out to Boothbay sometime, and you can show me around more. I’ve only been a few times.”

“I’d love that,” I say faintly.

But when I dare to look at Kolt again, he’s not paying a bit of attention to me. Instead, he’s listening to Amelia chat about something, but he looks lost in thought.

Our company doesn’t stay much longer, and once they leave, I rush to the guest bedroom before I say anything else to upset my husband. Because as my dad said, his recovery has no room for our bullshit.

I have so much I want to say—even yell. But I can’t do that right now. And plastering on a fake smile is getting harder every day. I’m beginning to question if his mom is dragging her feet on coming out here as a way to force me and Kolt to face our issues.

Despite what people say, love isn’t all it takes to make a marriage work. If it were … I wouldn’t be sleeping in the guest bedroom in my own house.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.