Page 68 of Love You Too

“You’re not alone in this. That’s the beauty. Realize that, and you’ll succeed.”

I feel like the grade-A jerk I am, giving a pep talk based on Trix’s support of me and my career while I’ve been a shit to her. She gave me a second chance to be a better man than I was in college and what did I do? I gave her some half-assed text replies and told myself it was for the good of the team. Unacceptable to hide behind hockey because I couldn’t figure out how to prioritize the woman I love in a stressful situation. I’ve got some heavy duty groveling to do.

I know I’ve been absent these past couple weeks. I need to apologize to Trix and double down on my commitment to her and the baby. I need to make sure she knows how important she is to me.

The thought of losing her again because I’ve been a shitty boyfriend makes me want to vomit.

I need to talk to her. I need to hear her voice.

There’s some throat clearing in the room, and I realize I’ve been silent for the past thirty seconds. I look from face to face ofthe men on my team and return to the challenge directly in front of me. The energy in the room is restless now. The players are antsy to get on the ice and manifest whatever individual spark drives them. They’re nodding and starting to feel a little bit of the magic we feel in anticipation of a game we want to win.

“It’s not about the odds. I fucking hate the odds. Nothing gets in my head more than some bookmaker telling me ahead of time whether we’re going to win or lose a game. How does that fucking guy know what’s about to happen in a game we haven’t even played?”

I don’t wait for a response. “He fucking doesn’t. We control the game. We control how we play and whether we work together as a team or whether we get bogged down in stupid shit that we decided to make important.”

The players are getting restless, and it’s a good thing. They’re amped, and we need to get that energy out onto the ice. Coach Barrington needs them warming up and feeling the desire to win. So I wrap it up. “We are winners. Let’s play that way.”

My teammates bring it in for a cheer before disbanding to finish getting suited up to play.

Coach Barrington meets my eyes, and I see approval. It feels good. It also feels good to have my focus on hockey. This is our game to win, and this is my team to lead.

I’ll call Trix as soon as I’m off the ice.

CHAPTER 30

Beatrix

I fall asleep earlyand miss a call from Ren, but I wake up with two main thoughts. One, I shouldn’t have eaten that second piece of pie. Sugar always messes with my sleep, and sure enough, I spent last night tossing and turning and having bad dreams. The ones I remember all involved some form of being chased by an animal or flying off into space. In one, I was floating above the roof of my house, attached to a helium balloon on a silk string. It seemed obvious enough that I needed to cut the string to free myself from the balloon, but when I untied it, the balloon fell to the roof, and I kept floating higher and higher.

Clearly, I’m getting nervous about being a mom. The dreams are about losing control, and parenthood seems like the best example of that.

The second thought I have this morning is that maybe my dream has something to do with Ren. I feel out of control there, too. I don’t like the way we’ve been ships passing in the night,even though his voicemail was sweet. “Hi, honey. Sorry I missed you. Hope you get some sleep.” Generic, but sweet.

Not sweet enough. Not when he’s been treating me like I’m an inconvenience, someone he has to text because I texted him first. Someone he has to call to check in about the pregnancy like it’s an obligation. In the past ten years of building my career and becoming self-sufficient, I’ve learned one important thing—I’m just fine on my own. And I can’t go on waiting for the other shoe to drop, worried that Ren will leave me behind again. All the old signs are there.

I try to talk myself down because maybe the pregnancy hormones are making me overly-sensitive. Ren was probably exhausted after the game. He felt pressure to lead the team and not run off to call me. I get that.

But a part of me worries that he’s trying hard to play a role because it’s the right thing to do. Even if he loves me, being with me wasn’t part of his plan. Maybe I need to set him free. Or at least have an honest conversation about where we stand. I’m not the twenty-year-old without a life plan. I can handle whatever comes my way, even if I don’t know what to say to Ren right now.

I push the thought away, but it creeps back as soon as I leave my bedroom and pad down the hall in Ren’s large pajama pants and one of his soft tees. Yes, I slept in his clothes. They’re comfortable, and right now they fit better than mine do. They also remind me of Ren, and it makes me happy to wrap myself up in fabric that smells like him.

In my kitchen, I flip on a light and start the coffee maker, grateful that the smell no longer makes me sick. Even if it’s decaf, I still like my daily fix. It’s a ritual. I warm the milk in the microwave and wait for the coffee to drip slowly into the pot. Leaning on the counter, I practically doze off. My elbow slips to the side, and I’m jarred awake.

Decaf coffee isn’t going to power me through the day, so Ilook in my pantry for something to give me some energy. Next to a box of bran cereal, a bag of Oreos screams out to me. “Eat all the chocolate!” I imagine it’s saying. Slamming the pantry shut, I back away.

I don’t dare eat a sugary breakfast after the pie wreaked havoc on me last night. I settle for a peach from a wooden bowl on the counter and try to stop worrying about what to say to Ren when I see him.

The coffee maker beeps, and I pour some coffee and milk into a metal tumbler. Then I swap out Ren’s pajama pants for sweatpants and shove my feet into a pair of slip-on tennis shoes.

Walking around Buttercup Hill will help me clear my head, and I desperately need to be focused today if I’m going to get the last touches finalized so we can reopen the inn on schedule. And wewillopen on schedule. I haven’t busted my ass for the past two weeks just so things can fall apart at the last minute. Every table at the restaurant is booked, and all the rooms at the inn are sold out.

I don’t notice where I’m walking until I realize I’m standing outside the restaurant. But I’m not here for food. My office is upstairs. All roads lead to work for this girl, apparently.

“Hey.” The deep baritone startles me with a combination of excitement and dread. I turn to find Ren walking up the path from the parking lot with that boyish grin on his face. His hair is slicked back from a shower, and he wears a loose pair of sweats and a long-sleeved tee that clings to the muscles I love to ogle. “Stopped by your house. Thought this was the next logical place to check. Glad I caught you.”

His eyes sparkle like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen, but I bristle when he wraps his arms around me and kisses me. I love the way it feels, but I can’t lose myself to him the way I want to. All the pent-up emotions bubble to the surface and I feel a sob choke in my throat. Pushing it down, I swallow hard and banishthe pinpricks of tears. Now that I’ve decided we need to talk, I want to get right to it.

“Ren…” I pull out of his grasp and back a few steps away. His smile fades in an instant, and he crosses his arms.

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