Page 144 of Wicked Serve

“Mom, I don’t blame you. You deserved to be happy.”

“And so do you. What do you want, Nikolai? You, not Andrei or anyone else. What do you want to do with your life?”

“I want to play hockey.” There’s no question, no debate. At my core, it’s what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.

She nods. “Good. Then you’re going to play hockey.”

“Grandfather will hate it.”

“I never should have let him talk you into quitting.” I’m taken aback by the fire in her voice. “If I’d known why you agreed... I love him, but he can be such an asshole sometimes.”

Despite myself, I laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse.”

“There’s a lot we need to catch up on,” she says, laughing, too. Her eyes soften as she nods, almost to herself. “Let me handle your grandfather. On Monday, you’re getting on that plane to California.”

Finally, I nod. “Okay.”

“And Nika—I want you to go to therapy.”

“Isabelle has been saying that.”

“She’s a smart woman.” She sits next to me, tucking me against her side. I lean my head on her shoulder, torn between exhaustion and the tendril of anxiety that ignited at the mention of therapy. “It’s scary at first. And it’s hard work. But it helps.”

Talking to Isabelle about my past. Cooper. Now my mother. It’s taken something from me each time, but I can’t deny that I’ve felt lighter after.

“I don’t know.”

“Keeping it locked inside just makes it worse.” She rubs my back. “You need to face what you’re feeling.”

“Does it really get better?”

I feel stupid for asking it, but she just hums thoughtfully. “It does. It’s not always linear, but over time... it does.”

Something shifts in my heart. The last piece of resistance, falling away. I’m terrified to start, but I’m more terrified of staying this way forever, constantly on edge, constantly worried I’ll fuck everything up irreparably. Unable to love hockey the way I want, unable to love Isabelle the way I want.

I can’t live like this anymore, but I can try to change. For her. For myself.

For us, and the future I imagined in Brisbane.

Chapter 68

Izzy

“Heads up, Iz!” Shona shouts.

I look up from my phone in time to smack away the volleyball rocketing in my direction. Shona jogs over, a sheepish expression on her face. “Sorry, sorry. You okay?”

I just nod. Technically, I’m fine. I spent the day in class, and now I’m at Moorbridge High’s volleyball club, and later this evening, I have to finalize the catering arrangements for the wedding. A totally normal Monday, if not for the fact that I haven’t spoken to my boyfriend since Saturday night. Since his father crashed into our lives. Since I left him alone, if only to keep things from falling apart beyond repair.

I felt sick the moment I shut his door. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me; the thought didn’t even cross my mind. But I kept envisioning his panicked eyes and the strung-out tension in his voice, and it took all my willpower not to cry until I left the building.

It’s only been a day, but it feels like a year. When I called Katherine, I played the last card I had. She went to see him; she called to tell me so yesterday, but Nik hasn’t reached out.

I hope he’s packing for San Jose. If he isn’t, after all this, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Shona tosses her braids over her shoulder, dribbling the volleyball. “Come on, leave it for a few minutes.”

“He might text.”

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