Page 65 of Power Forward

It was never your fault,I want to tell him, but I’m already feeling more emotionally drained than I was expecting to behaving this conversation. Instead,I close my eyes and kiss the pad of his thumb.

“Will you tell me about Zara?” he asks, dropping his hand back into his lap.

I blink at him, not expecting him to bring up my ex-wife.

“What about her?”

“How did you meet? And what happened between you two? Last I heard, she cheated on you with Connor Dubinsky?”

I let out a small, surprised laugh, which only causes him to raise his brows in surprise.

“We’re probably breaking every divorced couple code because as exes go, she’s pretty awesome. I met her at a fundraiser in Boston. It was something for the foundation. You know how they are. Lots of booze. Everyone is wearing suits and dresses showing a lot of skin. We got chatting, and things went from there. I thought if I could have the picture-perfect life on the outside, then somehow, it would fix me on the inside, but it didn’t. It didn’t stop the emptiness that seemed to thrive inside of me.”

His thumb runs over the back of my hand again, reminding me he’s there like a gentle anchor.

“But she didn’t cheat on me. Our relationship had fizzled out long before I retired, but we decided to file for divorce once I was in therapy. But I was so afraid of people seeing me differently. I wanted them to continue seeing me as the golden boy of the NHL or whatever the fuck they used to call me. I didn’t want them to see me as this weak, pathetic person that I was. I was still clinging on to a narrative thathad died along with my career, but Zara… She came up with the idea to divert the attention away from me when news of our divorce got out. I hated the idea, and I didn’t want her to be seen in such a bad light, but she pleaded for me to go along with it. As long as I continued to get help. She was dating Connor by that point, so it was plausible.”

Jackson’s watching me with a sense of understanding and sadness in his brilliant blue eyes.

“She was protecting you,” he says softly, and I nod.

“Yeah, she was. Even now, she’s fiercely protective over me, which is nice, you know? She and Roberta have been all I’ve had, but I want her to live her life for her now. She and Connor want to get married and have kids, and I don’t want her to be worrying about me.”

“It sounds like she’s the type of person who’s going to worry about you regardless of where she is in her life.”

I give a thoughtful hum. It does sound about right for Zara.

“Thank you for opening up about it. I know we can’t do anything to change the past, but I think we both had a lot of growing up to do.” He leans over and captures my lips in a tender kiss. “But we’re here now, and I’m really glad to call you mine again.”

My eyes widen a fraction. We haven’t spoken about labels or discussed what “we” are. In my mind, we’re together. Boyfriends. Partners. But hearing him call me “his,” putting that claim on me like we used to… It’s everything.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah, I do.” He grins. “You’ve always been mine in oneway or another. Maybe I just loaned you to Zara for a while.”

I snort out a laugh. “Loaned me?”

“Borrowed, I dunno.” He shrugs, still grinning. “Better than saying I lost you.”

“You never lost me, not fully. I was still there emotionally, I just… took the wrong path.” I take his face in my hands, sifting my fingers through the blond strands on the side of his head. “But it ended up putting me exactly where I needed to be.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hayden

To say I was surprised when Jackson asked if I wanted to take care of the kids this afternoon would be an understatement. He had a full day of team obligations, and Christie had an unexpected appointment she needed to attend after she did the school run. I’ve been a nervous wreck all day because this is a big deal.

Yeah, I took care of them when they were sick while Jackson was at his game, but this time, they’re healthy. They’re running around, making a lot of noise—and also a lot of mess—and it means I have an even bigger chance of fucking things up.

“Hayden! Check this out!” Ryan calls out from the family room.

I round the table to where he’s got his mini goal set up, but he’s not using his mini sticks. No. He’s using his full-sized stick and a real puck.

Christ. I can just see it now. How will I explain a brokenwindow to Jackson? He’ll never leave me unsupervised ever again.

“Whoa, no. No pucks in the house,” I quickly say, reaching down to pick it up. “Where are the foam ones? Or the foam balls?”

“In my room,” he says with a sigh. “But it’s such a long way.”

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