Page 73 of Frozen Flames

“What’s on your mind, Gemma?” I lean forward, feeling like I’m doing something behind Claire’s back as well, yet the guilt spreads with the fact that Gemma’s taken aback by my touch.

I can’t remember the last time I touched her this way.

And that breaks me inside.

She deserved better.

I was too busy dwelling on my own nightmares to make my girl’s dreams come true.

I failed her as a man.

And I don’t know how to fix this.

“You’ve been happy lately, and you look miserable right now. Tell me you want to try.”

I want her to want to try, and I want her towantme. If she doesn’t, all of this is for nothing.

“I want to try,” she reassures me. “It’s just been a long week.”

I nod, letting go of her arm as I lean back in my chair. I can accept that. She’s right—it’s been a crazy week for both of us.

“Why didn’t you tell me what Stefan told you at physical therapy?” she asks.

I shrug, avoiding her stare. “No point talking about it until I can make it happen. It’s all…hypothetical.”

On some days, my being able even to train is largely tied to my mental health. And so far, with things being so rocky with Gemma, I haven’t been doing so well.

She lifts a brow. “Sure, sure,” she dismisses unintentionally. “But you’ve managed to overcome all hypotheticals in the past. You shouldn’t doubt yourself.”

“I’m not doubting myself. Why’re you mad?”

I swear, it’s like she wants to fight. Why else would she bring up this topic tonight? Can we not recover from our previous fight first?

She shakes her head, and I know she’s going to ignore me as she clears the table and does the dishes. When she’s done, she surprises me when she turns around, her back to the kitchen sink. “Does she know?”

Oh, fucking hell. Tread carefully.

I look away. “Of course. Claire’s my PTA. Don’t make this into something it’s not. You haveno rightto talk. You’ve been MIA for the past few months!”

“Because I got a job! I needed to do something for myself. I could only hope that you’d support me in this.”

“And I support you.” I wheel closer to her, hoping to put this argument to rest. “We both fucked up and made mistakes, but if we want to put this behind us, we need to stop bringing them up.”

She smiles. “It’s not that easy,” she says. “The damage is done.”

I clear my throat. “So how do we fix this?” I whisper.

I’m relieved when she squeezes my hand, but instead of answering my question, she wishes me a good night and leaves me be.

I should feel elated. But I don’t. Because deep down, I’m not sure she even wants this.

I’m not sure she still wants me.

Claire

“Men are douchebags, Claire. Believe me,” Audrey tells me, holding a bowl of popcorn sprinkled with M&M’s.

I’ve been lying with my head in my mom’s lap for the past ten minutes as she stroked my hair while I teared up telling them about my last argument with Harvey.

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