Page 108 of Worth the Chase

A FLORAL PROPOSAL

MATTHEW

Bells handed the letter to me after she’d sat in my truck and gone over it at least a dozen times. I went through it once before giving it back to her.

“How did he know your name?” I asked because it was the first thing I’d noticed when reading. It really fucking worried me.

“I told them when they were at the bar.”

That made sense.

“Okay. How do you feel?”

She whipped her head to look at me. “Annoyed.”

That was not at all the answer that I’d expected.

“Annoyed? Why?”

“Because now, I feel bad for this Nathan guy,” she huffed. “And I don’t want to feel bad for anyone except myself.”

“That makes sense,” I said because it did. “And you don’t have to feel bad for him. He definitely wrote you that letter to alleviate his guilt. But I also think he was trying to do the right thing.”

“I know. I get that. But I’m still mad about it.”

That made me laugh a little. “You’re allowed to be whatever you want, babe. I love you.”

“You’d better.” She reached for my hand on the center console and held on tight. “Take me home.”

I’d never get tired of hearing those words come out of her mouth.

Six weeks had passed since the night of the incident, and I’d been seeing a counselor online every week for the past five. It was helping more than I could have ever hoped.

Finding the right person to spill your guts to was important. I’d gone through two other initial therapists at first. I hadn’t been comfortable talking to the first dude, and the second didn’t seem like they understood me at all.

Third time had been the charm.

We talked through all of the emotions of losing yourself when your identity was tied to your occupation. And how much it sucked to retire years before you’d planned to. I told him when I was angry and how I’d sometimes get overwhelmed with sadness, even when my life was pretty fucking great. He told me that was completely normal, and I believed him.

Eventually, he suggested that I look into coaching hockey in my spare time. He wondered if it would help me fill the void I had from losing the game, but my gut reaction to that was a hard no. I wasn’t interested in being a coach. And honestly, I was busy as hell at the resort.

But that conversation led to one about my volunteering periodically with younger players, the ones just starting out. I liked the idea of helping the little ones learn the first maneuvers of skating while trying to balance, holding a stick and hitting a puck, so I’d said yes. They mostly fell a lot. I told them that I used to fall all the time, too, even though I couldn’t remember a damn thing from being that small.

The best part was that the sadness that used to take over at times was definitely getting less and less. Maybe it was acceptance? I wasn’t entirely sure, but I was grateful.

Bells was actually talking to that fireman’s sister. You know, the one who had tried to poach my girl and taken her on a date that one time? His sister was a therapist, and even though I could be a jealous asshole about it, I would never ever take that from Bells. She’d had a hard time finding a therapist that she gelled with too. I’d noticed a change in her demeanor from thefirst time she spoke to her. She was lighter somehow. The weight that she seemed to carry on her shoulders was lessening.

We were both getting better at dealing with the shit life had thrown at us and communicating about it all with each other when we felt weighed down or just had a bad day. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d need weekly sessions, but I actually enjoyed them for now.

What could I say? I liked talking about myself.

Two Months Later

If there was one thing that seemed to run in the O’Grady family, it was what I was about to do this afternoon. We O’Grady men wasted no time when we found the right girl. Both of my brothers had proposed fairly quickly, and I was about to follow in their footsteps. I’d known Bells for most of my life, so this didn’t feel like it was fast.

It just felt right.

Hell, she might even say no. You never knew with my girl. Sometimes, she liked to argue just to do it.

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