Page 20 of Unbroken Promises

Staring up at the ceiling, noting this is the view my girl sees as she falls asleep every night, I wonder what must go through her head. Does she ever think of me, does she dream of me as she drifts off to sleep, or is that other fucker the one who fills her head? A wave of cold washes over me. Shit! Is he the reason why she hasn’t put any effort into making this place her own? From my time following her, I know she spends a lot of nights here, but. . . shit! What if that fucker’s space is more of a home to her than her own damn apartment? My fingers cramp and I glance down with a startled look to find that I am squeezing the life out of her poor throw pillow. Crap! I need to calm the fuck down and get my shit together.

With a calmingbreath, I force myself to stand, leaving her bed and the comforting scent of my girl behind as I slip out of her room unnoticed. I see Bash got the hint from my look and is doing a great job of distracting her still, his antics over the top as he gestures with wild animation to emphasize whatever he is saying. I see his gaze flicker to me briefly over Danica’s shoulder, not missing a beat as he continues to talk. Danica starts to turn but Bash grabs her arm and drags her over to the cupboards, and I hear some bullshit about how he is starving and they need to whip up some ‘snackage’ while they wait to hear from Finn and fucking Jonathan.

I start to make my way down the hall back towards them, and realize there is one more room that I have not yet explored. Unable to resist the urge to absorb every detail of her life without me, I can’t help but make my way towards that last door. Quietly, I poke my head into the room that she indicated was for guests. My breath catches in my throat at the sight before me.

Unlike the rest of the apartment, this room has been fully decorated, with meticulous detail. Painted in soft and soothing shades of blue and cream, it is decorated with a small bed that was clearly meant for a child. Blue curtains that hold puffy white clouds and small airplanes block the view from the window. Along the far wall is a small shelf lined with toy airplanes and blocks, other bumpy and spinney toys that I can’t recall the names of, and there is some sort of fabric-swing looking thing installed in the corner, the same kind that she has installed at Prism, dangling from an industrial looking clip attached to the ceiling.

What the fuck is this? And why would she put so much effort into decorating this room when the rest of the place clearly garnered no second-thought? It even smells different in here, soft, and clean, like that soap you find in the baby section at the store. The same shit that my nieces and nephews used for years when they were younger.

There is love pouring from every inch of this room, every tiny detail carefully placed, and my heart stutters at the image in my mind. Danica holding a precious baby boy, her beautiful red hair and my bright blue eyes, cherubic smile showing her beautiful dimples on that perfect little face that I see so often in my dreams. The future we have been robbed of thanks to all this bullshit with my fucking blackmailer.

And now to find out she has been dealing with a stalker of her own, one that my damn friends didn’t bother mentioning to me? I am going to fucking lose my shit if I am not careful, but man do I want to fucking hit something. . . someone.Pushing down the rage that is at war with the bittersweet ache in my chest, I force myself to turn and exit the room, only to run directly into the person who is always at the forefront of my mind.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I-” Stumbling through the words, I am caught off guard for once as I find myself caught snooping in my girl’s private space.

Arms crossed over her chest; lips flat as she glares at me. She glances over my shoulder into the room and her face softens. “This is my godson’s room. Wolfie.” She lifts her chin, nodding at the space I had just invaded. “You probably don’t remember; it’s been such a long time. But my old friend from my freshman year of college? Sierra? Well, she ended up being my roommate for years before she left for residency, and I became close with her younger sister, Quincy, too. Quincy’s little boy stays here sometimes. With Sierra on the east coast, she doesn’t have anyone else, so I help her out when I can. Watching Wolfie on the nights when she has class or giving her breaks on the weekends whenever our schedules line up.”

“I remember everything about you, il mio passerotto.” My words are soft, not meant for her to hear, though from the furrowing of her brows it’s clear she caught them anyway. And it’s true, I remember every little detail. Our days spent together her senior year, when shit hit the fan with her abusive fuckface ex, Bradley (who is now dead by my own hands), our blissful spring with every waking moment spent together when we were both not practicing for our respective sports. Our tumultuous summer spent loving each other, planning for a future together after she was done with college and I was situated in my role with the NHL, though by that point I was scrambling trying to figure out who had sent the blackmail letters, not realizing it was only just the beginning of years of torture.

The day she told me she was going to college in Oregon, me realizing she would be close enough for us to see each other on the weekends was the fucking highlight of my summer. And that fall, finding a routine with her in school, and me getting situated on my new team, meeting her new friends when I came down for a quick visit, or spending every free moment facetiming each other and texting. I couldn’t forget a single fucking second of it, because it wasn’t long after that when that future, my dreams, were ripped away from me. When she ripped my fucking world in two.

Chapter Nineteen

Theo

Six Years Earlier

-Mid January-

I warned you and you didn’t listen. . .

“Theo?”

“Hey! How is my beautiful girl today?” I grin into my phone, pushing aside the tightness in my chest at the new note I found in my locker after practice, trying to focus on my precious girl.

“Theo, I-” The line is silent, a long pause filling the air, making the distance between us almost painful. “Theo, I need to see you, can I come over?”

An ominous sense of dread fills me with the hesitancy in her tone, sounding more unsure than I have heard from her in months. We just spent the weekendtogether, celebrating our one-year anniversary in style, now that I had the money of a professional athlete to lavish her in the way she should always be treated. My girl is my fucking queen and I will spend every second showing her that, even when I can’t be by her side.

I wanted to do something extra-special for our anniversary, and I spent the whole weekend (my one free weekend without a game or practice) worshiping her, body, and soul. With our conflicting schedules it can be hard to find the time to spend together, and normally we wouldn’t be able to meet up in person for another two weeks after the visit we just had due to her class schedule.

Concern fills me at her unusual request. “Of course, diavoletta. You need me, and I am here, no questions asked, you know that. I can drive down there tonight, it’s gonna take me a few hours but I will just grab my stuff and come right over-”

“No.” Her tone is sharp and it cuts through my anxious rambling, even as I am scrambling to grab my overnight bag and throw shit together. I can drive down to her school for a quick all-nighter, and I know I will have to get up early to be back for practice tomorrow, but if my girl needs me then I am fucking there, no questions asked.

“No, that’s okay.” Her tone is softer this time. “I’m actually here, in the lobby. Can I come up?”

She’s here? Like, in the lobby of my building,here?

“What? Of course you can come up! I just got home from practice. Do you need me to come down? I can help you with your stuff?” I am quickly trying to piece together the chaotic bits of information bouncing around my brain. The new blackmail note, Danica showing up randomly at my place (not that she isn’t always welcome, it’s just really fucking odd with this being a school night for her. She takes her classes almost as seriously as her gymnastics training).

“It’s okay, I’ve got it. I’ll be right up.” Her words are still spoken softly, so soft I almost don’t catch them, and the line clicks, signaling she hung up on me. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I frown at the dark screen for a moment before brushing it aside. With a quick sniff, I check that I’m presentable. I always shower after practice, but I take extra care to make sure I smell nice for my girl when I know I am seeing her after. My footsteps are silent as I hurry over to my dresser, giving myself a quick spritz of her favorite cologne before heading out to unlock the door. My girl has a key, but I will always open the fucking door for her, because my Ma raised me to treat my lady with the respect she deserves.

I get to the door and open it right as she is getting ready to place the key in the hole, and she gapes at me. Freshly showered, my hair still damp, I can’t hold back the grin as I catch her checking me out, a faint blush highlighting the beautiful freckles staining her cheeks. I know she is checking me out, and I know she likes what she sees. “Freshly showered Theo” is one of her favorite versions of me, and I would be lying if I didn’t enjoy every second of her eye-fucking me.

And, God damn! Speaking of eye-fucking. My girl is a smoke-show. Hair pulled back in a messy bun, no make-up, and wearing my hoodie that I gave to keep her warm and reminded of me while she is at school. How did I get so lucky to have such an incredible woman by my side? I certainly don’t deserve it; with all the shit I have done. But I am not taking for granted a single second spent with this magnetic force of a woman that I get to call mine.

Moving closer, I pull my girl into a hug and she tenses, shoulders stiffening as I bring her close to my chest. Brows furrowing in concern, I step back an arm’s length, my hands resting on her shoulders as I take her in more closely. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I was so consumed by my joy and confusion at her showing up unexpectedly that I didn’t notice the red rimming her eyes, a slight puffiness to her cheeks. She’s been crying. “Here, come in. Let me help you with your bags.”

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