Page 27 of Blindside Love

But honestly, part of it was I couldn’t exactly tell her the real reason that my first girlfriend, Jessica, and I broke up. She knew that she had broken up with me and that I was heartbroken over it, but she definitely didn’t get the full story. How could I tell my mother that she broke up with me because she thought I was disgusting, or at least that my taste in the bedroom was ‘disgusting and repulsive?’ I think she also may have mentioned that it was violent.

The worst part? All I had done was give her a little love tap on her ass when we were having sex. After we were done, she turned around and slapped me and told me I was repulsive. Truthfully, the way she moaned and her pussy clenched around my cock when I slapped her makes me think now that she was actually just repulsed with herself.

Sucks to be her, though, she missed out on some fun adventures and crazy fucking.

But because I wasn’t about to tell my mother the truth, for obvious reasons, I’ve spent years with her piqued interest in my love life. Secretly, I love our talks. I love her interest in that aspect of my life because she truly just wants me to be happy.

I guess all I can hope for is that she goes easy on me tonight.

Spoiler Alert: She did not go easy on me tonight. In fact, I’m pretty sure she missed her calling as a lawyer. Or an interrogation specialist. She’s ruthless.

After we had lasagna and my parents told me about their week, my dad had to take a call from someone at the university, which left me alone with my mother, who insisted we go to the living room. She was practically foaming at the mouth the second we sat down, not waiting to jump right in.

“So, are we going to start with the reason you’re in a shitty mood, or go straight for juicy details and tell me why you’ve been checking your phone every five minutes like you’re waiting for a phone call during the draft?”

“How does neither sound? Why don’t you tell me about the book you read for book club this month?”

“Trevor, I am more than willing to tell you about the duke and his rather promiscuous thoughts, but my guess is that you’d rather not hear about that,” she says pointedly.

“I guess we can talk about my bad mood then. But only if you promise not to tell Dad. I’m not ready for that,” I say quietly, slipping my shoes off and wiggling around to get comfortable on their oversized couch.

“Trevor, that is not a phrase a mother wants to hear. Did you get someone pregnant?”

“First off, I’m thirty-five; I’m not a teenager knocking someone up. Second, it’s definitely not that. No, this is about hockey,” I tell her, noticing her brows furrow like she’s thinking about something. She gets this look when you can tell the wheels are turning in her mind, and she just kind of stares. I used to try to talk to her, but it was always better to just let her have her little moment to think.

“But you don’t want me to tell your father?”

“Not yet, look, I… I’m not sure when it started, but honestly, I’m getting tired. My body feels more worn out by the day. Hockey used to be my reason, but I’m starting to realize it’s not anymore,” I spill out, immediately feeling like a weight was lifted off my shoulders now that she knew.

Mama always knows how to make me feel better. She makes me work for it, but I always feel better after a talk with her.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“Hockey has been our life for so long. You and Dad have sacrificed so much for me to get to where I am now. You’re both at every game, and Dad calls me a couple of times a week to check in on practices, and I just feel like I’m letting you down.”

“Hockey was your life, Trevor. You were our life, which is why hockey became so important to us,” my mom says, her lips quirking up into a soft smile. “Look, sweetie, I can’t tell you what to do. Neither your father nor I can. What I can tell you is that you need to follow your heart. Find your reason. Your father and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Relief hits me that I didn’t realize I needed. I’ve been so afraid of letting my parents down. I’d always joked that I wanted to play until I was at least forty, and now, at thirty-five, I’m already considering hanging up my skates. I know I still need to talk to my dad, but knowing I have her support makes that conversation seem a lot less scary.

“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that more than you know. I’ll talk to Dad soon.”

“Good. Now, get to the juicy details. What’s going on with this girl that Cade was telling me about?”

She looks like a teenage girl waiting to hear the latest gossip.

“There’s not much to tell. Her name is Ellie. She’s my neighbor. She’s sweet and pretty and really funny.”

“So you like her,” she says nonchalantly.

“No, I… uh, no. I barely know her. She’s just…” I drift off, not knowing exactly how to explain Ellie.

“Different?”

“Exactly. She’s different in a way that’s exciting. She makes me want to know more about her.”

“Then why does it seem like that’s not what you’re planning on doing?”

I think about this, and I don’t really know how to explain the complexity of the situation. The fact that Ellie is a mom and is going through a divorce makes me feel like I would be way too much for her. But I hate that. Because what if I was just enough?

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