Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
When I land in LA, a driver is there waiting for me, something that Jaxon made sure of at least. He grabs my bags and brings them into the house. When I step into the house and I look around, I see that it feels empty. It’s eerie even, not a glass in the sink. Nothing out of place.
Me: I’m home.
I send him the message, wondering if he’ll call me, something he hasn’t even been doing. I keep busy, trying not to think about it. “He’s on the road,” I try to tell myself, “and his schedule is all off. He flies when you are asleep and he doesn’t want to bother you.”
For four days we text back and forth. The texts are very short and to the point. I avoid even watching his game. When my things get here, I take a couple of things out and start putting them around the house, but then I stop, not wanting to do this for nothing. So instead, I leave the boxes in the formal living room and avoid looking at them.
He gets home the day after my things arrive, and when I see him, I can’t help but smile at him. He’s wearing one of his suits, without a tie, his collar open and I see the little bit of the tattoo I love. He dumps his bag by the steps before coming into the living room where most of the boxes are. He comes in and takes a look around. “Holy shit,” he says before coming to me and kissing me quickly on the lips, “this is a lot of stuff.” He doesn’t hug me; he quickly moves to the kitchen and the fridge. I try not to make too much of it, thinking he probably had a long flight and he's exhausted.
“Well, I did have a whole apartment,” I remind him and he turns back to me, draining a water bottle as he leans against the counter. His eyes go to the boxes but he doesn’t say anything. “What’s going on?” I stand in front of him, my hands on the counter in between us.
His eyes come back to look at me and I see they are guarded. He looks exhausted and also like something is on his mind. “Nothing.” He shakes his head and avoids looking at me, and even talking as he takes another sip of his water. I want to slap the counter in front of me and call him a liar, but I don’t. I don’t do any of that, instead I stand here at a loss of what to fucking do.
I can feel the tears start to threaten and I don’t want to cry in front of him. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m needy and feel like he has to coddle me. “I’m going to go and take a shower.” I walk away from him quickly, jogging up the steps and heading to the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, the tears come right away. “What the hell did I just do?” I mumble to myself as I peel my clothes off of me. “It was too much too soon,” I tell myself, “I should have just gotten my own place.” I take my time in the shower, not wanting to face him. Not sure what to say to him, not sure of fucking anything.
Dread fills my body as I take one look at myself in the mirror and see my eyes show that I’ve been crying. Unless I’m going to sit in the bathroom for the next hour, this is as good as it will be. I open the door and step out, stopping in my tracks when I see him. He sits on the side of the bed, his suit jacket off and tossed beside him. His white button-down shirt is rolled up to the elbows. His elbows are on his knees as his hands dangle between his legs.
He looks up at me and I see his face filled with anguish, and the words come out in a whisper, “We need to talk.”
twenty-eight
Jaxon
I sit on the bed, my whole body feeling like it got hit by a Mack truck. The last four days have been some of the worst I’ve ever had. Even worse than being told my season would be cut short to have surgery. Even worse than being benched when you fuck up on the ice and have to sit there and watch your team without being able to help them. It’s that feeling of helplessness that has seeped into my soul, and I don’t know how to make it stop or to get it to go away.
When I walked into the house, I was so happy to see her, yet I couldn’t do what I wanted to do. It’s like my body was preparing itself for her to leave me. Knowing I had a hand in altering her future was one of the worst feelings in the world. Knowing because of me and my choice, it left her without a choice. I was supposed to protect her, but from the beginning I failed.