I’m sorry for everything that’s been going on. I would like to offer for you to buy me out for just what I invested. Also, I am moving out. Consider this my thirty-day notice. I love you.
My next message is to my clients. Luckily, I have all their numbers, so I can send one huge group text to them. The message is clinical. I advise them that I am leaving the salon and that they can make appointments with any of the other fabulous hairstylists.
I don’t send a text to Forrest. He knows why I’m not there, but it’s not just that. I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t bring myself to actually end anything. I’ve fallen in love with this man. Even if it’s to save him, his reputation, and his future, the last thing I want to do is leave him.
I love every part of that man.
The realization slams into me.
I love him.
Not like him… not care for him. I truly, deep down, love him. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would fall so head over heels for Forrest Westwood. But I have, and now I’m leaving him.
Chapter
Twenty
FORREST
Before I even open myeyes, I know I’m alone, and she’s gone. I should be surprised, but I’m not. I could see it clearly written on her face last night. She was going to do what she thought was right, what she thought she needed to do.
And that’s fine.
She isn’t confident in me yet, in the fact that I can fix this.
That’s okay, too.
But I’m going to prove to her that I fucking got this and got her. I’m going to fix it all in a way where there is no doubt to the world how I feel about her and how I do not feel about Kiki. My parents will probably never give me my inheritance. They’ll probably donate it all when they die, too.
I’m okay with that. I’ve come to terms with it and am ready to start living my life how I want to. I am ready to be a man and take on my own responsibilities instead of just waiting for my check to appear.
I’m over being entitled. I worked hard for my career, and I should take pride in myself. I haven’t for a long time. I’ve donewhat I needed to do for hockey, but the rest of my world has been on hold, waiting for that money.
What a stupid way to live. I was so blinded by what I thought was owed to me that I let my life become stagnant. I didn’t take the same care with my finances and my personal life as I did with playing hockey, and it shows.
Instead of running after her the way I want to, I decide to take care of this shit first. Calling Coach Burns, I tell him my idea and ask for any advice he has. I know Coach isn’t the most caring person in the world when it comes to anyone’s personal life, but what he gives a shit about is his players and his team.
“I need the name of a publicist to help me with this,” I state.
He knows basically what has happened, and he agrees that I need to do something. Otherwise, it’s going to get ugly. And when he says ugly, he means for the Fury, not for me. He couldn’t really give a fuck less about my personal life.
“I’ll have someone contact you immediately.”
Coach ends the call.
Forcing myself up, I shower and get ready for the day. We have a light practice this afternoon before we play tonight. I need to get in the mindset of game time. I need to get a plan in place, so I don’t have to stress about any of this shit anymore and feel more confident to deflect anything that comes flying my way.
And deflect, I am going to need to do, because I cannot get ejected a second time, and since we’re playing these Colorado assholes again, I’m going to need all I have inside of me to stay fucking calm.
When I walk downstairs, I’m not surprised to find Alexei sitting on the sofa, remote in his hand as he watches something on the television. He doesn’t even turn to face me, but I know he senses me.
“You good?” he asks.
I’m not sure exactly what he knows, but it’s probably enough that I won’t have to go into painstaking detail with him. Not that he would make me anyway. Passing the back of the couch, I clear my throat as I make my way into the kitchen.
“As good as I can be. Brooklynn left.”
“And?” he asks.