Page 45 of Fated Shot

As I return, I drop a silver tray on the bed next to where Scott’s sitting, slumped at the edge. He’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his shoulders hunched and his head lowered, fingers drumming absently on his phone.

“Any luck?”

With a shake of his head, he mutters, “She must have fallen asleep.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger before continuing. “Kaia’s going through a sleep regression, so we’re already exhausted all the time. It’s hard enough when we’re both there; now Camille is all by herself, and I can’t do anything to help and—I don’t know man, it’s just hard.”

“I’m sure she’ll call first thing,” is all I can summon to add. I wish I had better advice, but what do I know? I don’t know what that’s like. I’ve been responsible for me and me alone for so long it’s hard to even conceptualize.

“Yeah.”

I don’t push him more than that, partly because I don’t have anything helpful to add but mostly because we’re not the talkers in the group, let alone the feelers. We scarf down our food in silence as ESPN plays on the TV before calling it a night and crashing.

***

I’m woken up by the sound of squeals reverberating through the room.

Cracking an eye open, it’s still dark with only a thin strand of light barely shining through the fabric curtains of our hotel room.

Scott’s already up, sitting shirtless on the bed, hunched over talking animatedly into the phone.

“Hiii baby! Kaia, look at Daddy!”

I smile, sitting up as he gives me a good morning nod. I’ve roomed with Scott enough to know this is commonplace. On the ice, he’s calm and composed Cap; off the ice, he’s a doting and affectionate husband. The guys gave him a hard time for how head over heels he fell for Camille. He turned soft the second they got together, but it’s actually nice.

I could never imagine having a partner like that. Someone you’d want to spend all your time with, share a space with. Someone you miss the second you’re apart. Someone you’d be crushed to miss a call from—until...

Shit, nope. Next topic.

“You look nice, babe,” Scott compliments.

“Thanks, hun. We’re going out for a coffee date! Aren’t we, Kaia-girl?” Camille’s voice rings out through the phone.

“Replacing me already, huh?”

“Actually, yeah. Bev gave me Amelia’s number and now we’re getting together!” The excitement in her voice impossible to miss. A sharp, electric jolt runs through me at the sound of her name. My Amelia? Suddenly, I’m jealous of Camille Sheppard. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Happy for you, Cami. You should ask her for cookies.”

“Absolutely not, Scottie!”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to be friends, and the way to do that is not ambushing her and demanding cookies. I really want her to like me.”

“Fine,” he says with a jokingly frustrated grunt. “She’ll love you. I’m excited for you.”

A nervous sigh rings over the speakerphone, “I’m excited too.”

I hear a subtle whine in the background, clearly coming from a fussy Kaia.

“I gotta go, hun, gonna feed Kaia, and then we’re off!”

“Love you, my girls.”

“We love you too, Daddy,” I hear as Kaia’s chunky cheeks appear, filling up the entirety of the screen.

As soon as it disconnects, Scott turns to me, visually ten times lighter than yesterday. I’ve been aimlessly scrolling through my phone, trying not to dwell on the butterflies forming in my body at only the sound of her name.

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