Page 70 of Conner

“I’m so sorry, Conner,” she said in a small voice.

“Baby, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do, I’ve disturbed your life so much,” she slurred. “I’m staying here at your house, you’re taking me to all these places, and now you're here while I'm in a drunken nightmare. I didn't mean for anything to happen…I'm just sorry,” she sniffed out as she collapsed into her hands crying. Conner pulled her to him and held her as she cried. And once again, it felt familiar, and he knew it should make him run, but all he wanted to do was hold her closer.

Sasha didn't ask for any of this to happen. She had done nothing to bring this on herself. Taking care of her wasn't a distraction like it had been before. Taking care of her centered him. She centered him. She made him be the best version of himself.

“Let's get you into bed,” he said, helping her up. He took her into his room and got her tucked into his bed. He brought a waste basket beside the bed and got her some water and crackers on the nightstand. By the time he set the glass of water down, she was asleep. He watched her sleeping peacefully and it squeezed at his heart. He was in love with Sasha Maloof. He would help her through this whole nightmare, but then he would make her his. He had never been more sure of anything. He could have hockey, he could still focus and get the cup. Maybe not this year, but he knew he would win the cup and it would mean so much more with Sasha by his side. He smoothed her hair and bent down and pressed a kiss to her head.

37

Sasha

Sasha woke up with a terrible headache and an awful taste in her mouth. She sat up and it took her a minute to realize where she was. She was in Conner's bed. Slowly the snapshot started coming back to her. Evie showing up with champagne and orange juice, mimosas turning into screwdrivers, turning into an intense day of day drinking and blowing off steam, only to be reminded she didn't drink much anymore. She hadn't had more than a couple glasses of wine since college, and she definitely couldn't drink like that anymore.

Then embarrassment began to creep over her. Conner. When he had come home, she had started puking and he held her hair. That thought made her warm from embarrassment but also endearment. She had been so wrong about him...but mostly it was just embarrassment. Then she saw the crackers, water and wastebasket by the bed and her heart squeezed.

She picked up her phone, it was only 2:30. Conner was next to her in bed sleeping and she was starving. First, she went to brush her teeth then she made her way downstairs.

After making herself a quick sandwich she started to head back upstairs. On her way back she stopped and took in Conner’s house in the stillness of night.It was peaceful. It would be a great place to raise a family. She could almost see a Christmas tree in the corner, pancake breakfasts around the kitchen table surrounded by sticky fingers and smiling faces, kids learning to ride their bikes on the big, long drive away. This could be a dream, but right now parts of it still felt like a nightmare.

While she knew there was something real going on between her and Conner, she wasn’t sure if she could trust it. She could see it, but she didn’t trust herself to know if it was real or if it was something she was clinging to for safety.

Part of her wanted to go slip back in bed with Conner and pretend this wasn’t happening. Pretend she was here because they were in a relationship and not because it wasn’t safe for her to be anywhere else. But sadly, that was the truth of it. Her head was just so foggy.

Instead of getting back in bed with Conner, she got into the guest bed. She’d been staying here for almost a week and had yet to actually sleep in the guest bed, but everything about this situation right now just made her want to curl up in a ball and hide from everything. So that’s what she did.

The next morning, she was woken by a soft knock on the door.

“Sasha?” Conner said softly.

She had no idea what time it was, but she sat up and stretched.

“Come in,” she said groggily.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Embarrassed with a killer headache.”

“There's ibuprofen in the bathroom, but there is no need to feel embarrassed.”

“I’m pretty sure there is,” she said with a shake of her head.

"Sasha, baby, you needed to blow off some steam. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Why did you sleep in here?" he asked.

Sasha tried to ignore the hurt that colored his expression.

“I didn’t want to wake you when I woke up in the middle of the night,” she lied.

He made his way into the room and sat on the bed.

How did the mere presence of him make her feel better? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. His hand cupped her jaw, and any remaining tension left her body. As she opened her eyes, the kindness of his expression nearly took her breath away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah…I will be. I’m just so ready for this all to be over.”

“I know,” he said as his thumb traced her cheek. “It’ll all be over soon.”

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