My heart rocks in my chest. “No,” I say quietly. But I’m not surprised.
“He tell you his father died when he was thirteen? His older brother two years later? That he’s felt pressure to provide for them since he was just a kid in juniors? That boy has worked his ass off every day of his life, not just for himself, but for everyone around him. His family, his coaches, his teammates. He’s never known a world where he wasn’t looking out for everyone else. Why do you think we’re all so worried about this damn knee injury? For the first time in his life, his survival depends on doing the one thing he can’t seem to get his thick skull around: fucking taking care of himself. He’s got one job to do right now, look out for Oliver Levesque, and what’s the first thing he does? Tackle your shit. My shit. Fucking front office brass who are parading him around for public charity and press parties. He tell you any of that, Genevieve? Do you truly understand the level of pressure on that kid right now?”
I shake my head, emotion burning behind my eyes.
“No, I’m sure he didn’t,” Raffie says, relaxing back into the cushion. “If I had to guess, he probably listened to you whine about your rich girl problems. Nursed your wounds. Made you feel like the world revolved around you.” He holds up his hands when I stiffen. “Hey, that’s not a knock on you. He does that for everyone. Me included. Kels, my boys. Everyone. That’s the way he is. Everyone else comes first. That’s also why those who truly care about him need to step in and play hardball on his behalf.”
“That’s why you don’t like me,” I say quietly. He lifts a brow, and I shrug. “I could tell Kelsie wasn’t a fan the first time I visited. Last night at the club wasn’t exactly a love fest either between us.”
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sorry. He sighs. “Look, it’s not personal. I’m sure you’re a nice girl, but that doesn’t mean you’re good for him or his recovery.”
I nod slowly, wincing inwardly at his words. He’s got a point. Haven’t I been worried about exactly that? How many times has he come back limping after a fight with me? I’m a setback for him. An obstacle at a time when he needs to be clearing them as much as possible. The question burns in my throat, slithers onto my tongue like venom. Am I willing to give him up? Is he worth the pain of living without him? I think I’ve known the answer since the moment we met.
My heart shatters at what I’m about to do, but what choice do I have? There is no choice when it comes to Oliver. He’s given up enough for me. He’s too beautiful to be forced into a violent faceoff with the ugly. “You want me to break up with him,” I say quietly.
Raffie’s eyes widen as he snorts a laugh. “Break up with him? Are you kidding? Have you heard nothing I just said?” He shakes his head, still smirking. “The damage is already done, sweetie. You break his heart now, you’ll have more than some stupid tabloids to worry about. You’ll be going head-to-head with the whole damn Trojans hockey club.”
CHAPTER 11
“Worth the pain”
Says the boy unafraid
Who lives for a game he can’t play
“I won’t fight”
Says the girl so ashamed
Who lives for fame she can’t claim.
OLIVER
I pull into Sandy’s driveway, exhausted and ready to collapse on the couch. I can run drills from sun-up to sun-down, push for hours in the gym, battle through tedious, and sometimes painful rehab, and it’s got nothing on the marathon meetings today. Coaches, front office bigwigs, the team psychologist, everyone wanted a piece of me from the second I arrived. They’re all so damn sure I’m a different person today than I’ve been for the years they’ve known me, just because some stupid websites tried to make a buck on gossip. Even Genevieve joined the parade, leaving multiple messages to call her. I don’t blame her. She probably wants to know who the hell Regina whatever is also. I can’t bring myself to face her critique on top of everything else, so I haven’t returned her inquiries. Later, maybe. Once I get a moment to breathe and sort through the mess that is my brain. I wondered what ugly meant, what millions of judgmental eyes would look like. Now, I know.
After parking my car, I trudge up to the house and push inside. I’ve never wished for a separate entrance to my apartment as much as at this moment. I can’t take more from Sandy and Kelsie right now. Especially, because after an entire day of hearing how much I fucked up, I still don’t think I did. What did I do wrong other than fall for a woman whose life is complicated? Plenty, according to everyone else.
Camille. If I ever needed to hear my sister’s voice and see her supportive smile, it’s now. She’s left several messages as well. She’ll be the first voice I seek out as soon as I gather the strength to keep going. One day at a time, right? This day is maxed out.
Sandy’s house smell’s amazing when I step inside. My stomach rumbles with hunger, and I realize how little I’ve eaten today amidst the external chaos and internal anxiety. Suddenly, another lecture from my teammate doesn’t seem so bad. The aromas of baking bread and simmering sauces waft through the foyer in an inviting cloud. I don’t like to intrude on their lives, but maybe, just this once, I can ask to join them for dinner. I need something. A moment of connection. Anything to feel wanted after today. The thought of slinking down to my dark basement for a night alone with a packaged meal makes my heart twist in my
