Page 61 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

Anna

“He’s staying,” are the first words out of my mouth when Brit answers my call the next morning. It’s early, and I’m in my car in the parking lot at work, and I know Brit’s barely conscious from the groggy, “Anna? Are you okay?” I got when she answered.

“Wait, what?” she says, sounding a lot clearer now.

“He’s staying.” It’s a whisper because I almost can’t believe it. Which is a major reason I’m calling Brit right now. I need to say it out loud to someone else so that it feels more real.

“Back up a sec. Tell me the whole story.”

Weird, disbelieving laughter bubbles out of me, and I shake my head. “I mean, there’s not a whole lot of story to tell. We went out last night. It was supposed to be our last night, you know? He and his friends were all heading back to Seattle today. Last night was going to be our swan song, even though I insisted we pretend it was a normal night. It wasn’t, and we both knew it. He took me to one of the fancy restaurants I’ve never even considered stepping foot inside.”

“Oh, good!” Brit interjects. “You deserve someone who’s willing to spoil you.”

“Right. Sure.” I don’t even know what else to say to that because that doesn’t compute at all. Someone to spoil me? What does that even mean? “Anyway. He asked if we could talk about what would happen today, and I immediately said no because I still wanted to pretend he wasn’t leaving. But …” Trailing off, I gulp, blinking against a surprising wave of tears.

Why do I feel like crying? I’m happy, after all.

And I am. But I’m also overwhelmed, and I never fully discharged all the feelings coursing through me last night. I expected to be sad today. I was all primed for it, and now I don’t have to be, but …

“Are you okay?” Brit asks, clearly hearing the emotion in my voice. “Where are you? Do you need me to come over?”

I shake my head. “No, no. I’m fine.” I sniff, grab a tissue from the box I keep in the car, and dab at the moisture leaking from my eyes, laughing at my own ridiculousness. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m in my car at work. I just …” I shake my head again. “I needed to tell someone.”

“Okay,” she says softly. “Keep telling me.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, I continue. “Eventually, after we were at my place, he insisted on bringing up tomorrow. And I’m really glad he did. Because, unbeknownst to me, he’d been considering the possibility of not leaving today.” I let out another strangled laugh, shaking my head at myself. “I could’ve saved myself so much angst if I’d just let him talk about the end of his trip any of the other times he’d alluded to it or suggested bringing it up. If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s self-sabotage, though, so I guess it makes sense.”

Brit makes a chiding sound. “None of that. How could you possibly know that was what he wanted to talk about? And it seems like he wasn’t entirely confident how you’d respond either, so you weren’t the only one nervous. We all do our best to protect ourselves. You were just protecting yourself. You couldn’t know it wasn’t as necessary as you believed. You didn’t have all the information.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t let him give me more information either.”

“Well, so? What did he say? What did you say?”

Sniffing, I wipe my nose with the tissue, feeling a little calmer now. “He said he was thinking about not leaving today. That he’d like to see where this goes with us, and asked if I wanted that too. Or we could do long distance if I was more comfortable with that. Or we could just end things if that was my preference. Of course, ending things has never been my preference.”

Brit chuckles at the fierceness of the last sentence. “No kidding.”

“Right. So, he’s going to look for a place to rent here, and also take his time to figure out what he wants to do next since he’s retired.”

“That sounds pretty perfect, then.”

“It does,” I agree, though even I hear the slight hesitation.

Brit’s silent a beat. “Then what’s the problem?”

Sighing, I let my head fall back against the headrest. “It feels too good to be true,” I admit on a whisper.

She makes a sympathetic noise in her throat. “Oh, Anna. Believe me, when I tell you that I understand completely. In fact, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably have managed to torpedo the relationship already out of fear and anxiety. I totally get it. But I also know that you can’t let fear hold you back from going after what you want. What you deserve. You’re a good person. And I know you have a shitty ex. I do too. I super duper get it, more than you could possibly know. But this man looks at you like the sun rises and sets on you. It’s okay to let him in, to give him a real chance—not a short-term vacation fling chance, but a relationship, happily ever after chance.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” she answers just as softly. “I would be too. But wouldn’t it be worse to end it now and not even try? To always wonder what if? To wonder if you could’ve been deliriously happy if you’d only had the courage to give it a chance? Yeah, it may run its course. You may end up breaking up. But at least then you’d know. And you’d learn. And you’d take time to heal before trying again.”

I’m quiet for a moment, absorbing those words. This whole thing started because I wanted to break out of my shell, to quit hiding, to try.

And look? I did. I did all those things. And as a reward I’m getting an amazing man who’s falling for me, who wants to be with me, and is willing to uproot his life to make that happen.

Brit’s right. I deserve a chance to be happy. And even if it’s scary, I’m not going to let fear stop me anymore.

---