Page 100 of Playoff

But it has to be better than giving myself to him completely and then losing him a year from now.

No, that would be much, much worse.

“You know, ten years ago, you blamed me for everything, and I let you, but I’m going to set the record straight this time. Yes, I was young and immature, often thinking with my little head instead of my big one, but that wasn’t all of it. There was alsothe part of me who knew you deserved the chance to follow your dreams too. Because I knew if you followed me, and I got picked up by the NHL, you would leave all that behind. We would get married, have kids, and you would just follow me around.

“I wanted more for you. I handled it badly, because I was a stupid eighteen-year-old, but I wasn’t a complete asshole. I loved you enough to want you to soar, to experience life on your terms, not just mine. In my heart of hearts, I thought we’d find our way back to each other. You weren’t supposed to catch me with those girls—even though we’d broken up and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. I just never wanted you to see it. And God knows, you weren’t supposed to hate me.”

He shifts from one foot to the other, his jaw working in irritation.

“But I’m here this time, doing my damnedest to be the man you’ve always wanted me to be. To be the man you deserve. And instead, you’re throwing it in my face. It’s not fair, Rowan. Because I’m trying to work onourfuture, not just my own.”

“But it boils down to the same thing as it did before,” I say sadly. “One of us would have to give something up for us to be together, and neither of us are willing to do that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says quietly. “Because I would give it all up for you. But you just showed me that you don’t want me to.”

What does that mean?

I’m so confused, and he looks… angry. Hurt. Frustrated.

All the same things I’m feeling.

I don’t know what to do.

But then he makes it easy on me.

“Take care of yourself, Rowan. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” He leans over and presses a feather-light kiss on my forehead.

Then he turns around and walks out the door, letting it close softly behind him.

THIRTY-TWO

Blake

We’re backin Vegas for game seven, and it’s hard to focus on the game when it feels like my entire world is crumbling around me.

The last two days have been miserable.

Much worse than the last time she left me.

Honestly, I don’t know who left who this time, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. I should have told her about Boston, but I still don’t know anything.

I don’t know how I managed to fuck up my relationship with Rowan for the second time so badly.

I don’t know what’s going to happen in the game tonight.

I don’t know where I’m going if we lose tonight.

I have no idea where I’ll be over the summer or in the fall or anything else.

My parents are still here, following me around like lost kittens, and I don’t have the time or inclination to worry about them.

“Who kicked your puppy?” Bodi demands as we sit down for the pre-game meal in Vegas.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

He opens his mouth but closes it again.

He’s back on the roster tonight, so he’s in a great mood, but the last thing I want to do is talk about Rowan. Or how she dumped me. Or the clusterfuck that is my life.

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