Page 31 of Snowed In With the PUCK

“You could say that,” I reply, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m too full of nervous energy to keep what I found today a secret. “I… I found something.”

He frowns, sitting up straighter. “About my mom?”

I nod, sitting down next to him, my hands trembling with nerves. I decide the best way to say it is to just… well, say it straight with no filler. “I made some calls today. I found her, Eric. She’s alive. Your mom is alive.”

The color drains from his face, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. His eyes are wide, staring at me like he’s trying to process what I just said. I feel bad for just coming out with it. I wish I could take my words back.

“Are you okay?” I squeak out, concern hidden in my nervousness. This is a huge topic, and I have no idea how to handle it.

“She’salive?” he repeats, his voice barely a whisper.

I nod, my throat tight. “She’s in Las Vegas, working at a rehab center. The one that… um, helped her get clean.”

Eric leans back, running a hand through his hair, his breathing shallow. I can see the conflict in his eyes—the anger, the pain, the disbelief. He doesn’t know how to feel, and I don’t blame him.

“I see. I’m happy for her if she’s got her life together. But I don’t know if I want to meet her,” he says after a long silence, his voice flat. “She gave me up, Jessica. She left me.”

I reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I know. And I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you. But maybe… maybe it’s worth hearing her side of the story. You’ve beensearching for answers, and now you might have a chance to get them.”

He pulls his hand away, standing up and pacing the room. “I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve spent my whole life thinking she was dead. How am I supposed to just… forgive her for abandoning me?”

“You don’t have to forgive her,” I reason with him. “But you deserve to know the truth.”

He stops pacing, his back to me, his shoulders tense. Suddenly, I feel like his enemy and not his ally. “Why did you do this, Jessica? Why did you want to go digging into my life? I didn’t ask you to.”

The accusation in his voice cuts deep, and I flinch, feeling the sting of his words. “I was trying to help you, Eric. You were looking for answers, and you said I could look around and… I thought—”

“You thought what? That you could just fix everything? That you could swoop in and make it all better?” He turns to face me, his eyes flashing with anger. “I didn’t ask for your help. I didn’t know it would turn out likethis. I don’t even want this.”

I stand up, my heart pounding in my chest. “You were the one who brought up the photo, Eric. You were the one who wanted to know what happened to your mom.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask you to go snooping through my life,” he snaps, his voice rising. “This isn’t your problem, Jessica. It’s mine.”

His words hit me like a punch, and I take a step back, my hands trembling anew. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I was honestly and truly just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he says coldly. “I can figure this out on my own.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, refusing to let him see how much his words hurt. “Fine,” I say, my voice shaking. “If that’s how you feel, then I’ll stay out of it.”

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. “This is too much, Jessica. I didn’t know… and now I do.”

I nod, my heart breaking. “I get it.”

Without another word, I turn and walk out of the room, my chest tight with emotion. I feel like I’m suffocating, like the weight of everything is crashing down on me all at once. I thought I was helping him, but maybe I’ve just made things worse. I don’t blame him for his anger. He has big feelings and they’re going to come out somehow. I try not to take his words too much to heart. Try, is the key word.

I retreat to my bedroom, closing the door behind me and sinking onto the bed. Tears spill down my cheeks, and I wipe them away, trying to pull myself together. I know Eric is scared. He’s scaredof what finding his mom might mean, scared of reopening old wounds. But that doesn’t make his words hurt any less.

I lie down, staring up at the ceiling. Part of me wants to go back out there, to apologize again, to try to make things right. But another part of me knows that Eric needs space. He needs time to process everything and pushing myself into this moment, this huge life changing news, will only make things worse.

I close my eyes, exhaustion pulling at me. I didn’t expect this to turn into a fight. I didn’t expect him to push me away. But I should have. He’s been through so much, and I can’t blame him for being guarded, for wanting to protect himself from more pain.

As I drift off, I wonder if trying to help him has only pushed him totally out of reach. The thought haunts me as I fall into a restless sleep.

Chapter fifteen

Eric

I’m sitting at acorner table in a quiet cafe just outside downtown Denver, my fingers tapping idly against my coffee cup. The smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries fills the air, but I barely notice. My mind is elsewhere, running over how this conversation is about to go down. Allison Chen, the Avalanche’s PR lead, is across from me, her perfectly manicured fingers scrolling through her phone before she looks up with one of those practiced PR smiles that never quite reaches her eyes.

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