Page 26 of Breaking the Ice

“Caleb, please tell me this isn't true. You don't want anything to do with that Asian girl, right?” I lift my gaze to my girlfriend, who comes down the stairs with tears in her eyes. That's it, this farce ends here and now, I think.

“No,” I reply, breaking free from Parker. He seems to understand that Durand is my last concern right now and that I won't touch him again. “It's not true that I chased after Emma,” I say, turning to Jess. “However, it's true that I want something from her. And I have for a while now.”

“No...” She brings her hands to her mouth. I can see her blinking back tears.

“It's over between us,” I say, to make this short and painless.

“No, please,” she whispers with a choked voice and reaches out her hand to me. I catch it with mine and look at her seriously.

“I'm sorry, Jessica. I never wanted to hurt you.” Now the dam breaks and she sobs helplessly.

“Well done, asshole,” Parker snaps at Durand. The Canadian's response is a raised middle finger.

“You can't do this to me, Caleb, please!” Jess throws herself into my arms and clings to me tightly. Damn it, I knew there would be a scene when I left her. The museum door swings open again. This time it's Professor Weinstein. I signal to Parker that we need to get out of here. We have to leave before the entire society, including my boss, witnesses this ugly scene.

In the Lucky Saloon, a billiards club, Parker and I find some peace. My phone has rung about twenty times in the ten-minute drive here, so I've turned it off. Although I had vowed never to drink alcohol again, I wash down the taste of adrenaline that still lingers on my tongue with beer. I tell Parker how unhappy I've been in this relationship for so long that I only didn't break up with Jess because I was afraid she might tarnish my reputation with Carl. Which, as you can see, I've managed just fine on my own. But I don't want to dwell on that now. We talk about Durand for a while. He's always been an asshole, but after Emma embarrassed him in front of the team, it's like he's dropped his facade. Now he's showing his true colors once and for all. At some point, we talk about Emma, and I confess that I've been blown away by her from the first day, that it's been hard for me to stay away from her. As I talk about her, I become increasingly aware of how painfully I miss her. And then I realize that I have to have this woman. Come what may. I won't wait for her to return, and I won't accept a ‘no’! While I'm sitting with Parker in the Lucky Saloon, I turn my phone back on and send her a text message:

*I've left Jessica.

And then I write in a separate message:

*Emma, the only woman in this world that I want is you. I won't accept your ‘no’ any longer. You belong to me, and you know it.

15

Emma

“Tell me, how was it at Riley's last night?” my mom asks at the breakfast table, a cup of green tea in her hands.

“Good, it was cozy as always. We were a nice small group.”

“And was that football player there too? Lester?”

“His name is Jester, and yes, he was there.” Jester is the kicker for the Washington Sharks and my ex-boyfriend - if you can even call him that. We were together for a few weeks this summer. Until I found out he had a little fling on the side because I didn't give it up right away. He said I got him so hot and bothered that he just had to relieve some pressure somewhere else. Idiot. I gave him the boot that very day. Since then, he's been trying to win me back at every opportunity.

“I find him nice and good-looking,” Mom comments.

“And he's anything but faithful,” I say, seeing a shadow pass over her face.

“Oh, that's certainly unpleasant,” she says, getting up and going to the kitchenette. While she pours herself fresh tea, I look at her. With her silky black hair and slender figure, you could easily mistake her for me from behind, even though she's currently much thinner than I am. She's lost quite a bit of weight. Her jeans are practically hanging off her legs. I wonder if she's eating less because she's sad. It must be hard for her to suddenly be living alone in Aberdeen. She must miss Dad and me.

“How is it for you without us?” I ask, and she turns to me with a pained expression on her face.

“I'd be lying if I said it was easy,” she says, lips twisting into a wistful smile.

“But you're managing fine without Dad and me, right?”

“Of course. Emma, dear, you shouldn't worry about me. I'm doing well.” That doesn't sound sincere. Mom hides her face behind her big teacup, taking a sip. Then she comes over to me and sits back down at the table. Looking down at the newspaper next to her, she casually asks, “How's your father, by the way?” The question confuses me. I mean, they must talk regularly on the phone. Right? I think about it, but I can't remember overhearing a conversation between them. Something about this seems odd.

“He's doing well,” I reply, watching her face closely. It doesn't show any reaction.

“And he really couldn't come home for the holidays?”

There! A hint of sadness crosses her face.

“No, as I said, he couldn't. Coach Thornton insisted that one of us stay present and available for the team over Christmas.”

“Tzzz, Bill,” she mutters with disdain in her voice. That's enough, something isn't right.

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