Page 89 of Boarded Hearts

Me

Your parents and Adam will be here in half an hour. Please tell me you’re on your way.

Nothing. A further ten minutes pass and he hasn’t even read my message.

Trying to stay calm, I fly around the apartment and finish up the food, then clean, lay the table, and throw on Jon’s favorite dress. I’m trying everything to catch even a flicker of reassurance that my boyfriend is still in there somewhere. We still cuddle in bed, but the sex has completely gone. He’s either had too much to drink or he’s too exhausted from overworking in the gym and collapses as soon as nighttime comes. When he realized I’d sprained my wrist trying to help him into bed that night in New York, he was devastated that “he’d hurt me” as he said. It was an accident, but he didn’t see it that way, using it as another reason to hate himself.

Jon loves those closest to him unconditionally. He’s the most generous person I know when it comes to his heart and what he has, but I’m still struggling to find a way through to him when it comes to turning that love on himself, and I'm starting to question if I’ll ever achieve it. His mental health issues are clearly deeply ingrained and other than his therapy, he’s only ever used temporary “fixes” to continue functioning. Ways to numb the pain and distract his mind.

The direct elevator to our apartment pings, indicating that we have guests. Right on time, and he’s still not here.

I stare in the mirror and fix my hair once more.

You can do this.

“You can definitely cook for us again, Felicity. You clearly know your way around the kitchen. Although, I don’t think I’ll be eating another thing for the next week!” Jennie compliments me with her usual bright smile, but the mood this afternoon has been anything but. Jon’s family has been here and eating for the past hour, but there’s still no sign or word from Jon. I covered for him by saying he was held up at practice, and I really hope he was.

I stand from the table and begin collecting the dishes. “The pavlova recipe was my mum’s; I can send it to you if you like?”

“That would be wonderful, honey. Do you need some help with the dishes?”

“No,” I reply, still plastering on my façade. “Just relax; I’ve got it.”

I balance the dishes in both hands, thankful my wrist healed quickly, and blow out a deep breath when I reach the kitchen. I check my texts, but there’s still no word from Jon.

I lock my phone just as a hand reaches to place a glass on the counter and I look up to find Adam.Like the rest of us, he knows something isn’t right and while he prefers not to verbalize too often, I can tell he wants to talk.

“He’s having a hard time again, isn’t he?” Adam asks, hands in his pockets and looking down at the floor.

I choose not to sugarcoat the situation. Adam is one of the most honest and direct people I’ve met. “Yes. Since Zach’s accident, he’s gone downhill, over training and drinking. He won’t talk to me, but I can tell he blames himself for what happened.”

Adam nods in understanding. “He’s always been like this. He takes on the world and achieves so much yet thinks he’ll never be good enough.”

“I know,” I say on a soft exhale.

“You won’t give up on him, will you? He’s a good person, and so are you.” Adam raises his head but doesn’t make eye contact with me, though I can see the anguish written all over his face as he stares at the kitchen cabinet in front of him. He’s hurting for his brother.

I place my hand on Adam’s forearm. “No, I won’t give up on him. I’ll make sure he sees just how wanted he is.”

My eyes are blurry with unshed tears as I turn back to the sink and begin clearing the dishes.

“You love him.”

My tears spill over, and I turn back around to face Adam. “With all my heart.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

JON - ONE WEEK LATER

My life feels like a version of Groundhog Day.

But it’s the only way I can keep myself from losing complete control. When I’m not on the ice, I’m in the gym, lifting weights and pushing myself to the limit on the cardio machines.

I barely see Felicity as she comes and goes to work, and I feel like an asshole. From the moment we returned from New York, I’ve driven her away on a clear path to self-destruction. I’m waiting for her to wake up and realize I’m not worth it, because it’s going to happen. If I can’t protect my best friend and make the right decisions on the ice, how can I possibly be the man to protect her for life?

Yet despite it all, I can’t bring myself to end it with her. Through the overwhelming noise in my mind, my heart screams to hold onto what we’ve got, no matter how broken it feels right now. She tries to touch me, but I push her away, and when she invites my family over for a traditional British Sunday lunch, what do I do? I hide in the gym, pussying out and not wanting to face my reality.

I lift the Olympic bar for a fifteenth rep and replace it with a bang, sweat pouring from me as I snatch up my bottle and towel and head for the locker room.

---