Chapter 10

T hrowing my head back, I sigh before sliding my finger across the screen and forcing myself to answer my mother’s call. I shouldn’t avoid talking to the woman who gave me life, but for some reason, I can’t seem to snap out of whatever hold the past has on me.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

“How are you, sweetheart?” she asks.

“I’m good. Just doing what I need to do so I can go back to work,” I tell her.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t made it there yet. I had that damn flu, and then my flight got canceled. It’s been a whole shitstorm.”

“No worries. Paige has been here. All is fine.”

Because having you here would likely stress me out.

“I’m so glad she was able to stay with you,” she says sweetly. “I’m sure that’s been nice. Having her there to help, especially with the PT exercises and such.”

I think about all the exercises Paige has been making me do and how I don’t understand how most of them are going to help me. From the outside, looking in, it doesn’t seem like I have an injury at all. But at the end of the day, I had a motherfucking heart attack.

So far, all the exercises I’ve done didn’t include her touching me. If they had, I’d have likely been doing them with a bulge in my sweatpants.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s been good.” I nod in my empty room. “And you know, there’s no sense in you flying out here until I know what’s going on. I’ll know more after my appointment today.”

“I feel like the worst mom, not being there.” She sighs. “But I know you’re in good hands. Just promise you’ll keep me updated on your recovery.”

“I promise,” I say before standing up. “I should get going though.”

“I love you. Good luck at the appointment.” She pauses. “And please tell Paige I said hello.”

“Will do. Love you too. Bye.”

Once I end the call, I pull my hoodie on and head out of the bedroom.

Today is my first checkup since I came home. I don’t have my echocardiogram till next week, but I’m hoping, today, I’ll find out my body is moving in the right direction and that I’ll be back in the arena soon.

Before I completely lose my mind.

I walk out of the guest bedroom—the one that was empty until a week ago—and I instantly smell coffee. When I head down the hallway and around the corner, I take in the sight of Paige sitting at the dining room table, drinking her coffee with her laptop open in front of her. Her reading glasses are on, and I swear to fucking God, it’s like I’ve been sent back in time to a few years ago. Before everything went to shit.

For a moment, I watch her in awe. Her eyes narrow, and her brows furrow while she reads whatever she’s looking at. Suddenly, she types something quickly and sighs before taking a sip from her coffee.

When she gently closes her laptop, I head toward her. She hears my footsteps instantly and glances at me.

“Morning,” she says softly, pulling her glasses off.

She’s always hated those things, even though I love them. They make her look adorable and innocent, which I know she’s not.

“Good morning,” I answer, pulling out the chair beside hers and taking a seat. “How’d you sleep?”

“All right,” she whispers, searching my face. “You?”

“Same, I guess.” I shrug.

She bobs her head up and down, but I can see the sadness written all over her face. Hell, I can even feel it. We’ve always been in sync like that, and some things never change.

“You’re lying,” I utter, holding her eyes with mine.

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I am.” I sigh sharply. “I slept like shit.”

“Do you want the spare bedroom?” She pauses. “The other spare bedroom. Like … your usual-sleeping-spot spare bedroom?”

I look at her face, letting my eyes roam over her freckles and her cherry-red lips for a moment. “Buttercup, I’ve slept like shit for a year and a half. Nothing new there.” I shock her when I reach across the table, putting my hand over hers. “But yesterday? That fight? I called you a …” I look down. “I don’t even want to say it, Paige. But I fucked up. And I’m sorry.” I shrug. “Doesn’t matter if we’re together or not. I don’t want to fight with you like that. I just … I got pissed off when I found out you were living in Boothbay. But the truth is, I don’t know if I was mad that you were that close and I hadn’t known or if I was just ass-hurt that I know so little about your life now.”

Tears fill her eyes, and she blinks them free, making them roll down her cheeks. “I should have mentioned sooner—and on my own—that I’ve been living in Maine. I didn’t know how to bring it up.” She shrugs. “But for what it’s worth … you kind of are an asshole.”

I breathe out a laugh, grinning slightly. “I’ve been told that a time or two.”

She sits up straighter, not pulling her hand away from mine, which surprises me. “Kolt, I think my being here is causing you too much stress.” She pauses. “I’d like to give you a lift to your appointment today and stay until your mom arrives—or at least until you can make other arrangements. But I think for the sake of your recovery, I should leave. Because you’re not just trying to fix your heart … you’re also trying to smooth everything over between us so that we can coexist in this house.” She looks around sadly. “Our house.” She shakes her head. “It’s heavy. All of it. And it’s not what you need right now. At all.”

I know I can’t waste any more time. She’s going to leave again, and this time … she probably won’t come back unless I have another heart attack, which I’d really like to avoid at all costs.

So, I decide right now that as soon as this appointment is over, I’m going to ask her to stay. And I’m going to be honest with her too. Because if I keep hiding the truth from her, once it does come out, she might never forgive me for keeping it in for so long.

“Let’s just hear what the doctor has to say, and then I’ll figure out my next steps, okay?” I ask her, dipping my head down slightly. “But for whatever it’s worth, having you here is the only thing keeping me sane. I mean that. And I really am sorry. And for a whole lot more than the shit I said last night.”

She nods weakly, sniffling a bit. “Thanks. Me too.”

“You look great, Kolt,” the doctor says, pulling his stethoscope away from my chest. “The few tests we did came back fine, but we need you back here in about ten days for a follow-up to repeat the tests all over again though, just to ensure everything keeps improving.”

“Another follow-up? I thought this was the follow-up,” I utter, looking straight ahead. “I’m probably good as new. The past three days, I’ve felt fucking perfect. The best I have since … the heart attack.”

Stepping back, he leans against the counter. “Don’t get me wrong; you look good. And I’m fine with you resuming a lot of activities. You know, things like walking, driving, doing small workouts, taking a flight of stairs or two, having sex, doing light yard work. All of that stuff? Fine. But until the heart muscle has a little more time to heal, I want you off the ice.”

I glance at Paige and smirk when I find her face is as red as her pretty, plump lips. Her expression almost makes it hurt less that I’m going to be out of the season for at least ten more days.

At least.

“Fuck,” I grumble. “That’s not what I wanted to hear, Doc. At all.”

He bobs his head, giving me a tight-lipped smile. “Trust me, I know. But the heart is debatably the most important organ you’ve got, Kolt. Don’t you want to get back to one hundred percent before you step out on that ice?”

“I’m not sure my heart’s ever been one hundred percent,” I joke, but then I remember what this means.

My team will have ten more days without me.

“Fine. Ten days.” I grimace. “I’ll come back in ten days, and you’ll run your thousands upon thousands of dollars’ worth of tests and tell me I can go back to work.”

“Wait, um …” Paige says, clearing her throat. “If the goal is to get him back on the ice before the end of the season—”

“In ten days,” I say, correcting her.

She gives me a you can’t actually believe that look and then swings her gaze back to the doctor. “We’ve been doing all the exercises you and I talked about. But I think … I think he’s ready for something a little more strenuous. Do I have your blessing to change his exercises? I can email them to you tonight, and if you’re okay with them, he can start them tomorrow.”

Taking out a pad of paper, he scribbles something on it and hands it to her. “That sounds great, Mrs. Kolburne. Here’s the email to send it to.” He glances at me. “You’re lucky to have a wife who’s also a physical therapist. She’s saving you a bunch of money.” He chuckles. “And you get to do your exercises in the comfort of your home and not travel to a stuffy office. Kind of like this one.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t go that far; he might get a bill,” she teases, giving me a small grin and looking at me … not quite how she used to, but not like she did the first day she came to the hospital either.

She looks more comfortable. And I like that.

A lot.

“All right, get in touch if you need me. If not, see you in ten days, and don’t do anything too stupid.” The doctor heads toward the door, pulls it open, and glances back at Paige. “I’ll review those exercises as soon as they hit my inbox. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” She smiles before he walks out. Looking at me, she sighs, widening her eyes and smiling. “Well, it might not have been the news you wanted to hear, but it was good news nonetheless. Right?”

“Yeah, he said we can fuck,” I say, straight-faced. “You must be excited about that.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs. “Don’t even start with me, dumbass.” She shakes her head. “I’m serious, Kolt. I know you wanted him to say something crazy, like, Go join practice today and play in the next game . But the thing is, he said everything looks good. Better than good. He said great . So, just celebrate that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble before stepping down from the raised table. “I know I’m a dick, but thank you for being here with me. I know you have your practice back in Boothbay and your three-legged cat—”

“You can just say cat , Kolt,” she deadpans. “The missing-a-leg thing seems a little unnecessary.”

“Builds character though.” I step toward her.

An idea comes to mind, and I hold my hand out to her. “Can I take you somewhere? Would that be okay?”

I wait for her to reject me or to come up with some reason why we shouldn’t go anywhere together, but instead, she looks at my hand with her eyebrows pulled together, deep in thought.

Slowly, she takes my hand and stands. “Sure,” she whispers. “I’d actually really like that.”

Phase one of getting my wife back: initiated.

Even if she doesn’t realize there’s a mission underway.

The captain, who is an older man with a white beard, steers the charming sightseeing boat, with its twenty or so passengers, across Casco Bay. I stare in awe at the water and then lift my gaze to where the coastline meats the trees. Trees that are almost all bare now. Had I done this two to three weeks prior, I would have had the full experience of the foliage, but since it’s November, there’s hardly any left, besides a few stragglers holding on, not ready to let go.

Despite most of the trees being practically bare, I can say without a single shadow of a doubt that there really is nothing like a New England autumn. The air is crisp and cool yet pleasant, the colors are out of this world, and even the scent in the air is always my favorite.

Kolt and I always said, one day, we’d go on this boat, but something always came up, and we never did. When he brought me here today, I was honestly shocked, but also really happy that we were finally going to do it.

“From the ocean, the leaves are still beautiful. What’s left of them anyway,” I say to Kolt, continuing to stare out at the land from the boat we stand on as it pushes through the water. “I didn’t expect there to be any left this late in the season. This is beautiful. Thank you.”

When I glance at him, I find him leaning lazily against the side of the boat, grinning out at the water. I used to love when he leaned like that. Dammit … he’s so hot when he does. I mean, Kolt is hot all day, every day. But him leaning? It does something to me.

“Yeah, well, I know how much you love you some leaf peeping. As much of an ass as I’ve been, figured the least I could do was bring you to see your favorite thing of the season, even though it’s basically gone.” He leans closer, nudging his elbow against my side and making me blush. “Oh, and I’m the one who should be saying thank you, Buttercup. You dropped everything to be here for me, even after the way I—” He stops, looking ashamed. “Even after I treated you like absolute shit for all that time before you left.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, my body tenses. He’s never really mentioned that before. Even though I know we need to talk about it at some point, it was such a dark time in my life, and I’ve avoided talking about it at all costs. But right now, it’s like I’m seeing a glimpse of the man I fell in love with. And the man I married when I was just a kid.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, feeling a stabbing sensation in my chest. “All I’ve ever wanted, Kolt, is for you to be happy. And before your injury, it seemed like you’d found that.” I force myself to smile through the pain. “Just because we’re separated doesn’t mean I stopped watching your highlights on SportsCenter . You’re thriving. You are a hero to so many kids. And that’s pretty incredible, if you ask me.”

The softness in his expression shifts to something more pained and heavy. Standing up straight, he takes hold of my wrist, and instantly, my heart skips a beat.

“None of that matters when I don’t have you, Paige. You can’t possibly think that I’ve been happy.” His words come out raspier than usual. “I’ve been the opposite of a happy man since I lost you.” He moves closer, dipping his head down toward mine. “Fucking miserable—that’s all I’ve been.”

“Why did you let me leave then?” I croak, lip trembling. “And why did you push me to leave in the first place?”

His brow furrows, and his lips part on a sigh. “Because I thought I was doing the right thing.”

His answer makes no sense, but before I can dig in further and demand more from him, I see movement out of the corner of my eye.

“The girls behind you,” my voice squeaks, “are filming us with their phones right now.”

He glances out of the corner of his eye. “Fuck,” he hisses. “I can’t fucking go anywhere anymore without this bullshit.”

He’s suddenly irritated. We were having a deep discussion—without raising our voices for a change. Our expressions spoke volumes about how we were both feeling, and they likely captured the entire thing with their phones. The media will have a field day with this, I’m sure.

“So, look,” he utters, looking back at me, “we have two options, and it’s your call which route we go.”

I search his face for any hint as to what he might be thinking, but I find nothing.

“I’m listening,” I say, a bit intrigued. “Go on.”

“One, we pretend we’re a happily married couple again. People will have their opinions about the truth, but some might actually believe we never split up in the first place. Since, you know, I never made a statement on it.”

“And two?” I widen my eyes, knowing option one is stupid and a long shot. “What’s that entail?”

“I actually don’t have another option.” He shrugs. “One is all I’ve got. So, I guess we’ll go with that.”

“Kolt,” I growl through gritted teeth.

“Come on, sweet thing. What’s it going to hurt?” he drawls, his eyes on me, looking at me like he’s ready to eat me up, sending a chill down my spine. “Go along with it, please?”

Staring at him for a moment, I finally let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Fine,” I huff out. “What do we do now?”

When he dips his lips closer to my ear, the stubble from his face tickles my neck.

“Turn toward the railing of the boat and look out at the land. And when I stand behind you, don’t kick me in the nuts or anything. Deal?”

My heart speeds up when I think about having him close to me. I glance at the two girls and see their phones still on us. I roll my shoulders back and unhurriedly turn my body to the side of the vessel and try to actually enjoy the scenery from the boat.

What I don’t expect is for Kolt to instantly get as close as he does. When his body comes behind mine and he puts his hands on the railing—making it so I’m wedged between his body and the railing—it’s hard for me to take a breath, and my head feels fuzzy.

It’s been so, so long since I’ve been this close to my husband. Closing my eyes, I drag in a deep breath and inhale him as my heart swells. The feeling that I’ve carried so long—the same one I got as a kid when I went to summer camp and missed my parents—slowly disappears, though a hint of it remains. I’ve missed him so damn much. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been staying in a house with him because he was far enough away emotionally and I couldn’t touch him. But right now, his body is against mine, and it’s like every cell that makes up my body ignites from his touch, making me feel whole after being broken for so long. But in the pit of my stomach, I know this feeling won’t last. After all, we’re putting on a show right now, nothing else.

“Let go of the pain for the next fifteen minutes, baby,” he says in my ear, his head against the side of mine. “Just let me be your man again until this boat docks. Okay?”

My heart melts inside of my chest from his words, and even though it’s stupid, tears cloud my eyes, but I keep them at bay, knowing we have an audience.

It would feel so good to just … let go for a little bit. To pretend like everything is okay, even though I know it’s not.

“Okay,” I whisper, nodding before I turn in his arms, putting my back to the ocean and surprising him when I take control.

I gaze up at him, letting my eyes roam his face freely. His hair is shorter than he used to keep it, but I don’t hate it, not at all. His eyes are angled down at me, and while he doesn’t smile, when I put my hand on his chest, I swear I can feel his heart beating.

“Kiss me, wifey,” he rasps. “Let’s really sell it that you still love your husband. And that this marriage is fine.”

I do love you, I think in my head, but I don’t say it out loud.

Instead, I stand here, frozen. Petrified to let him in again, even if it is only for show. Because nothing will ever be fake for me when it comes to Kolt. No kiss. No look. No feelings. It’s all very, very real. If I kiss him once, I’ll never want to stop. It will ruin me.

Again.

“I can’t. We … we shouldn’t—” I barely get the two words out before he cups my cheek with his large palm and brings his mouth to mine.

The second our lips touch, tears sting my eyes, and my heart shatters inside my chest with so much force that it hurts. It’s been a year and a half since I’ve kissed this man. Since I’ve kissed my husband. I’ve missed him more than I can even articulate with words, and now … he’s kissing me.

A rush of emotions pumps through my body, reaching every single particle as he continues to cup my cheek while he kisses me. His kiss isn’t aggressive, but instead, it’s slow yet strong. My knees buckle, and my body falls against his unwillingly.

A cry rips through my throat, and he pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Are you all right, Buttercup?”

“No.” The two letters come out in a strangled squeak.

I can’t have him this close, and every single part of me is telling me to push him away, reminding me that it is a mistake to let him get close again. But even with all of these thoughts rushing through my brain, I can’t force myself to push away from him.

Sometimes, he knows me like the back of his hand. He knows me better than even I know myself. He knows my moves before I even make them.

He cups my cheeks, his eyes dancing between mine. “I know you’re freaking out. But I need you to calm down and just breathe. Okay, baby?” He kisses my forehead and stares into my eyes. “I lied. I don’t give a fuck what the media says. You should know that by now.” He pauses. “I just wanted a few minutes with my wife. I wanted to kiss her and hold her in my arms.” He utters the words deeply. “I know that makes me a selfish son of a bitch, but I’m okay with that. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of our last kiss being when we kissed the morning you left me. I needed one more.” Sliding one hand into my hair, he presses his forehead against mine again. “But one more will never be enough, Paige.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” I whimper. “Why are you saying all of this?”

I guess we were so caught up in each other that we missed the boat docking. But I notice when people start rushing behind him, heading toward the exit.

Blinking a few times, I raise my shoulder and wipe my eyes against the cloth of my hoodie. “The boat’s docked. We should go.”

Giving him a long, hard look, I inhale sharply and duck out of his hold. As I make my way off the boat and toward the dock, I can still feel the shocks on my lips from his kiss.

I feel intoxicated—and not in a good way. More a feeling that nothing makes sense right now and it’s almost like I’m dreaming.

Kissing my husband isn’t a bad dream at all. It’s just that … all dreams come to an end when one wakes up.

As Kolt drives us closer to the house, I stare out the window, watching the trees pass by. There are a million things running through my head, and not one of them makes sense. My brain is spinning, and I can’t focus on one thought to try to get some logic out of it.

“You’re really not going to talk to me?” he snaps. “Because I kissed you, you’re going to shut me out. Really?”

Everything inside my brain is a jumbled mess, and I can picture it looking like tangled wires with signals being sent every which way with no rhyme or reason. Mixed signals, of course.

“Talk to me, Paige,” he barks, pulling up to the gate. He rolls his window down to punch in the code. Within seconds, it opens, and we roll through.

“I’m sorry if I took it too fucking far. But having you around—it’s been killing me to have you this close and not fucking kiss you.” He stops. “I want to do a lot more than that too. And today, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I fucking snapped. And you wanted it just as badly as I did. You’re my wife. I know your body and what your reactions mean, you know.”

When he pulls in front of the house and shifts the car into park, I waste no time pushing the door open. I need air. I need to get out of this car and away from this man before I do something even more rash than let my husband kiss me.

Judging by the throb between my legs … there’s much, much more I’d like him to do to me.

I round the car and head inside, and he’s right behind me, slamming the door shut.

“Goddammit, would you quit running?!” He catches my hand, spinning me to face him. “Stop running away from me. It’s fucking pissing me off.” His jaw tenses. “Listen for a fucking second, Paige.”

His hands move to my sides and slide down to my hips, and his fingertips dig into my flesh before he backs me up to the wall. “Give me ten days, Paige. Ten fucking days.”

I scowl up at him, shaking my head. “What are you even talking about? Ten days? What is in ten days?” I spew. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“I have my next checkup in ten days.” His grip on my waist tightens, and his head hangs lower toward mine. “You’ve waited eighteen months to end this marriage. Can you spare ten more days so I can prove to you that it’s worth saving? I know I fucked up, but you’re no angel either. So, stay. And let’s figure out if we can fucking fix this because, Paige, all I want is my wife.” He swallows so roughly that his Adam’s apple bobs. “I want to show you why you should stay.”

He’s saying all the things I wanted him to say eighteen months ago. But he didn’t come to realize all these things on his own. It took him getting hurt and needing me again to make him see that. Maybe it shouldn’t, but that hurts my heart and keeps my guard intact.

“Face it, Kolt. If you’d never taken that hit … if you’d never had a heart attack and needed me … you wouldn’t be saying these things right now.” My voice breaks, and I sob. “I’d be back in Boothbay, and you’d be here. Living your life.”

“I haven’t been living my life, Paige,” his deep voice rasps. “You are my fucking life.”

I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe my brain is jumbled, or perhaps I’m really desperate to be close to the one person who makes me feel something. Whatever it is, I launch my body at him, kissing him roughly and clawing at his shirt before the wiser side of me can stop myself.

His fingertips knead my waist as he lifts me slightly off the ground before pushing me against the wall. His erection grows, pressing into me and making me whimper in desperation.

His tongue dances with mine, and he nips my bottom lip before pulling back and unzipping my hoodie with one hand. Pushing my hoodie off of my shoulders, he yanks my tank top and bra down to unleash my breasts before attacking one with his mouth.

“My fucking God, baby. I missed your tits so much.” He growls the words against my flesh, dragging his tongue around my nipple, and I moan loudly. “So fucking perfect.”

“Kolt,” I whine through my tears, needing more of him.

I’m so on edge that I feel like I might explode. My brain spins, and every part of my body feels his touch. It’s almost as if I’d been on autopilot and he flipped the switch to bring me back to life.

Reaching between us, I undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. In the very back of my brain, there’s that voice of reason, telling me to stop. Reminding me that it took months and months not to crave him every second of every day. To actually be able to function in day-to-day life without being with him anymore. I worked on myself to get stronger, and here I am, throwing it away just to be close to my husband.

But I continue on, finally getting his jeans down enough to take his large cock into my palm, and I begin jerking him. Just from my touch, pre-cum seeps from his tip, and a lone groan rips from his mouth.

“Fuuuck,” he hisses.

I’m crazed. Completely and utterly insane. Sinking down lower against the wall, I dip my head down between us and run my tongue over the tip of him before pulling back and spitting on his length. He groans, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me back up.

“God-fucking-dammit, baby. You know how much I love it when you spit on my dick before you fuck me with your hand,” he hisses against my lips.

He rips my leggings down with so much aggression that my thong goes right along with them. His hand skims down my body, traveling between my thighs before his fingers part me. As he slides a finger, then two inside, I cry out in bliss. I could never explain this feeling to anyone else. The sensation where two bodies become one in an instant. There’s no logic, no sound reasoning in my brain, for how nothing else matters. The only thing I care about is having him close to me.

I’ve missed so many parts of him. And this … is just one.

With my back to the wall, his eyes burn into mine as he works his fingers in and out. I slide my hand back and forth on his cock, never breaking eye contact.

We’ve only just started, and I’m already so close to coming undone on his fingers. I haven’t been touched by anyone else since I left him. And pleasuring myself has never given me the same level of bliss as my husband did.

Even the intense look on his face right now has me spinning out of control. He’s so fucking hot, and I have no idea how I even landed a catch like him to begin with.

“Kolt.” I hardly choke the word out, tipping my chin upward. “It’s been so long. I … I think I’m going to—”

His mouth crashes against mine again. “If you finish that sentence, I’m going to blow my load all over your pretty fingers without being able to stop myself,” he growls. “Goddammit, I want to fuck you so bad, baby. My cock wants to be home inside your sweet pussy. But right now, I’m about to come in your hand because I’ve fucked my own so many times, imagining it was yours. I’ve been deprived of you, Paige.”

Pressing his nose against mine, he pumps his fingers in and out and takes his thumb to rub circles against my clit. When he applies a little more pressure, he sends me over the edge.

“Soak my fingers, baby,” he rasps, his eyes hazing over, and I know he’s so close to losing control.

I glide my other hand behind him and dig my fingernails into the flesh of his ass cheek before pumping his cock a few more times.

“Fuuuck,” he says through gritted teeth as his body begins to tremble.

Our eyes never look away as we both get lost in our orgasms. My lips part, and a loud sound—something between a moan and a whimper comes from my mouth.

Just as I feel his seed spread onto my hand, he groans, “Paige.”

My hips buck against his palm, and I ride his hand as my vision begins to blur. My head spins, and my entire body feels like it’s floating as ecstasy flows from my head to my toes.

The room goes black for a moment, and when everything comes back into my vision, my head is leaning against Kolt’s shirt.

As I slowly come back to reality, the realization of what we did hits me. There is no taking this back—I know that. But the question is … where the hell do we go from here?

I dare to peer up at him. His chest rises and falls while he tries to catch his breath.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, sliding my hand to his chest. “Your heart … is it … was it all right that we just did that?”

With one arm looped around my waist, he stretches the other one to cup my cheek in his hand. “Trust me, for the first time in a long time, my heart is just fine.”

His eyes drift to my lips again, but I look down, pulling back.

“I need to, uh, wash my hand,” I utter before ducking around him and heading for the bedroom.

Rushing inside, I walk into the bathroom and close the door.

For a moment, I felt so good. I felt whole again, in some messed-up way. And now, looking at the woman staring back at me in the mirror as I wash my hands, I don’t feel any of those things.

I feel scared. Because what just happened doesn’t fix everything, and somewhere inside of him, Kolt has to know that.

After cleaning myself up, I take a seat on the couch and pull my phone out when I feel it vibrate. I’m not up for any company right now. I thought after Paige and I both finished, things would be different. Instead, she took off for the guest bedroom, and I haven’t seen her since.

Coach Jacobs: I know you had an appointment today. I’d like to hear how it went.

Me: Went fine. Won’t know more until I have another round of tests in 10 days. I’m going to start sitting in for practices next week.

Coach Jacobs: I’m headed to your house to pick you up. Be ready in five minutes.

I rear my head back and groan, resting it on the back of the couch. “Fuck,” I utter.

I love my coach and all, but I’m not in the mood right now. And it doesn’t exactly look good to the wife I’m trying to get back for me to finger-fuck her, cover her hand in cum, and then take off.

Coach Jacobs: And before you try to think of an excuse to avoid me, just know that I’m actually by the gate at the end of your driveway. I’m still your coach, and you have to do what I say. So, open the gate, asshole. And get your shoes on.

“Oh my fucking word,” I spew before standing up and pulling up the app on my phone to open the gate.

Me: Give me five minutes.

In true over-the-age-of-fifty form, he sends back a thumbs-up. I don’t have the heart to tell him that no one sends those anymore unless you’re fifty and over. And if you do, you sound like a dick.

I look down the hallway to find her door closed. The me that was trying to push her away would leave without saying anything. But I’m not that guy anymore, and I need her to see that.

Heading down the hallway, I debate on not knocking. And again, the old me wouldn’t have. I’m not a naive fucker. I know I have a lot of asshole traits. I see one of my best friends, Logan, and I wish I were more like him. But, hey, he had a normal childhood, and I had … well, the opposite.

Holding my fist up, I hit the door a few times and stand there. She doesn’t answer. After waiting a full minute, I gradually push the door open to find her asleep on the bed. Her face is red and blotchy, so I know she’s been crying. The last thing I want to do is leave her when she’s clearly upset, but I can’t avoid Coach. I need to make a game plan on what this season could potentially look like.

Taking a few steps toward her, I take the throw blanket from the end of the bed and pull it over her body before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I love you, baby,” I whisper and step back.

Heading back to the kitchen, I find a piece of paper and scribble a note on it so that when she wakes up, she won’t think I just took off after what we did. We need to talk more, but every time we start to get it all out in the open, she ends up bolting from me.

Went for a ride with Coach. Be back in a bit.

—K

P.S. I love you. And I meant what I said. All of it.

When I go back into the guest room to put the note on the nightstand, I stop in disbelief when I see Ted is curled up next to her legs. That cat likes me, but no one else. Even in the time Paige has been here, the damn cat has barely come out.

I set the note down and head out the door to get this talk with Coach over with.

Coach takes a sip from his coffee and looks around the Starbucks that we randomly pulled into instead of us driving around.

“This coffee is shit,” he grumbles. “I don’t know why Meghan is so obsessed with this place. Dunkin’ is better.”

I chuckle lowly as he talks about his wife because the man would jump through fire for that woman. “I wouldn’t be a good one to judge. I don’t drink coffee, but Paige loves this place.” I shrug, holding up my strawberry refresher thing I ordered because Paige always used to get them for me. “These aren’t bad though.”

He sits back in his seat, eyeing me over. “So, Paige is back home? Is that just for your recovery, or … is she back for good?”

“I hope for good. But time will tell, I suppose,” I utter. “I don’t know how I let shit get this bad between us. Especially when … the entire time, all I had to do was fucking talk. Instead, I chose the coward’s way out and pushed her until she broke.” I sigh. “If she chooses to leave in ten days, I won’t blame her. But, fuck, Coach, I hope she stays.”

“It’s pretty simple really, Kolburne.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re a smart man. You see everything on the ice. You’re a fierce protector, and you throw yourself into harm’s way to keep others safe.” He shrugs his shoulders. “So, save your marriage. And if you don’t know how to do that, I’ll tell you this … don’t give her a single reason to want to leave.”

I shake my head, drumming my fingertips against the table. “I don’t know. You make it sound so easy, but I really, really fucked up.” I swallow. “And the bad part is, she doesn’t even know the worst of it yet.”

My stomach feels sick as I imagine telling her that she’s been blaming herself for not having kids, but it was me, and I kept it from her.

“If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have dropped everything to be here for you during this recovery.” He takes another sip of his coffee, scrunching his nose up. “Fucking gross. What’s wrong with our wives?”

“Maybe something’s wrong with us.” I chuckle.

“Smartest thing you’ve said all night, Kolburne,” he says. “Now, let’s talk about hockey.”

At the mention of the sport alone, my body tenses. I love being a Shark, and one of the hardest parts of this injury is the possibility that I could lose my spot on the team.

But before I can worry about it more, he jerks his chin up. “I see the look in your eye, and I know you’re worried. So, before we dive into all that, let me say this.” He pauses, inhaling. “We’ll wait for you as long as we need to. Okay?”

Even though some of the fear is still there, his words relax me immensely, and I sigh before nodding my head. “All right. Yeah. Let’s … let’s talk about it.”

I can’t run from my future with the Bay Sharks, just like Paige can’t run from this marriage. Both are sure going to take a whole lot of work.