Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Thus, I see his mom and dad…a lot.
Which means I’m reminded of Rafe and everything we had and everything he destroyed on a whim.
Sure, the rage has subsided over the years. I’ve gotten control of that. So when I do happen to think of him, it’s often in passing. I might be over at his parents’ house to say hello, and see his graduation photo on their mantel, thinking to myself: I wonder what Rafe’s up to. And then I put him out of my mind. Sometimes, I might think: I wonder if he’s caught a raging case of syphilis—which he’d deserve, and then I’ll hope that it’s super annoying and itchy.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’ve never been a vindictive person, and I don’t wish him ill at all. But, damn…I’m just so angry at him right this moment, and sitting next to him in my car isn’t helping matters at all. All of the ugly feelings are welling up inside of me and I’ll be glad when I can get away from him.
To say that Rafe broke my heart would be the understatement of all time. He didn’t just hurt me…he destroyed me. Crushed me so badly, he didn’t even leave fragmented pieces of betrayal behind. No…he ground me to dust and then just walked away.
It took me a long time to get over him, to acknowledge that he didn’t want me. Took me years to accept he didn’t think I was good enough to join him on his journey through the professional hockey league. And it took some major soul-searching to find a measure of peace within the world around me, validation that I was a worthy woman.
The way we ended things was so contrary to everything we’d planned for our future. Those plans had unfurled over the years as we grew up together—first pledging to always be best friends, all the way through the blossom of glorious love where we promised to be there for each other until our dying days.
So many memories for me to recall any time I want to take a journey through my past with Rafe. Us playing in the woods, picking mushrooms, and poking bugs with sticks. Me forcing Rafe to play Barbies with me, only to agree to play GI Joe with him as a compromise. Summers were spent swimming at the YMCA and going to movies. In school, from as far back as I can remember, he was always my protector because, for some reason, I was an easy target for bullies. Then, in fifth grade, the inevitable first and experimental kiss. We both thought it was horribly gross.
We tried it again in seventh grade, and it wasn’t so gross. By ninth grade, we were going steady and where one was, so was the other. Fingers laced, we’d strut the halls of our high school, and the message was clear to anyone that paid attention.
We were together, and always would be.
I went to every single one of Rafe’s hockey games when he played locally, usually hopping in Brenda’s minivan to ride with her. He was a hockey star, and I was popular by virtue of my association with him and growing into my odd looks in a way that people found striking. When he went off to juniors, I sometimes traveled with Brenda to see him as much as I could. We burned up the phone with calls, texts, and FaceTime. When he returned home after the season was over, we were inseparable, making up for lost time.
We were the quintessential golden couple. Prom king and queen. Most likely to live happily ever after. I was sitting by his side, his hand clutching mine so hard, I thought my fingers would break, when they called with his draft offer to the league. I shared in the same excitement as he did because we had planned for that moment. We’d spent so much time talking about what would happen if he ever made it to the professionals. I had doubts, but Rafe…never.
He’d straight-out asked me, “Poppy, you’re coming with me, right? Wherever I land? Whatever city? You’re coming with me, right?”
My answer was fast and easy. “Yes, Rafe. I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth.”
Until he decided he didn’t want me to follow him at all.
When he changed his mind—disregarding all our future plans—it came as such a shock I couldn’t even understand it. Just two weeks before he was set to join his new team, he flat-out told me that he didn’t want me to come.
I couldn’t even process it. I was so hurt, so blinded by what I thought was a failure on my part to be the right woman for him, that I had trouble even fighting against it at first. I was just…numb.
Then, after a whole lot of crying in my mom’s arms, I tried to rally a bit. Attempted to fight to keep him.