Page 22 of Broken Promises

I turn towards the elevator without waiting for them to answer. The moment I’m behind the elevator doors, I hit call.

“Princess,” Declan answers, and I hate how unsure his voice sounds.

“I’m sorry, Dec. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you upset me somehow. You haven’t,” I rush to tell him. “I’m just stressed.”

“You’re my best friend, Willa. I miss you,” he says softly.

“I miss you too, hockey boy.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted your night.”

“You didn’t. If anything, they interrupted our night,” I say, trying to force a laugh.

“How come you never call me when any of them are around?” he asks, surprising me so much it takes me a moment to answer.

“I wouldn’t be able to hear a word you said. There’s five or more people with me at any given time. I’m only alone when I get into bed at night and call you.”

“Promise that’s it? Because I was starting to feel like you were embarrassed by me,” he says, laughing half-heartedly.

“I promise. I could never be embarrassed by you,” I tell him truthfully.

Dec yawns loudly. “How much longer until you’re home?”

“Six weeks,” I say. “Actually, hold on.” I look at the calendar on my phone and count the days. “Thirty-eight days until I’m home, but you won’t be. So, forty-one until we’re in the same place.”

He sighs. “How is it we’ve gone years at a time without seeing each other and it wasn’t a huge issue, but now it sucks so hard?”

I snort. “Probably because you can’t sleep with everyone anymore.”

“I don’t want to. Haven’t in a while.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just stare at my reflection in the shiny elevator door.

“You want to know what I think it is?” he says.

“Tell me,” I say quietly.

“I think it’s because now I know what it’s like to have you in my life permanently. Is our friendship lifelong anyway? Sure as fuck is. But now we live together, and I get to hang out with my best friend every night. When we’re in the same city, anyway. Now that I’ve had that, I don’t want to go back.”

“I think you might be right, hockey boy.”

“When aren’t I?” he says. I laugh but can still hear him yawn.

“Get some sleep. You have a tough game tomorrow.” They’re playing Seattle, who came out of preseason as the favorites.

“You’re going to watch, right?” he asks, yawning again.

“I’ll be onstage while you’re playing, but Nate is recording it for me.”

“Who the fuck is Nate?” he asks, suddenly more awake.

I laugh and shake my head. “Our tour manager. He’s married and also like fifty. Relax.”

“You work with too many men, wife.”

I laugh so hard I start wheezing. “You’re nuts. Get some sleep, husband. I’ll text you with my notes on your game tomorrow.”

He laughs lightly. “Oh, I’m sure you will. Good night, Princess.”

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