Page 112 of Win Big

She has to be perfect.

My heart is hammering against my ribs, a hard pulse in the pit of my stomach. “Fuck, I should have shoved his head in a toilet and drowned him in that bathroom,” I growl.

“No. He’s not worth it. And it’s all in the past.”

“Not when he shows up and upsets you like that.”

“I’m okay, Wyatt. Yes, it was a painful reminder. I was taken by surprise when he walked in. And heisa jerk. I...” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “I reacted badly to seeing him. It was a shock. It made me feel like I was making another huge mistake, getting involved with you. Another guy who plays for my dad’s team.”

My eyes narrow. “That’s why you dumped me?”

She sucks briefly on her bottom lip. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

I can’t breathe. What is she saying? She regrets ending things? She wants to get back together? My heart slams heavily in my chest.

Heather... I told Heather I’d think about what she’d said the other night.

I stare at Everly, my eyes burning. I stagger to my feet and take a couple of steps away from her. My gut churns nastily.

“Wyatt?” Her voice is low, tentative. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sordid story. I regret?—”

“It’s not sordid!” I keep my back to her. “Stop saying that. You were a kid. It’s whathedid that’s sickening.”

Silence heavy enough to crush us swells in the room.

“Since we’re telling our life stories, I guess I should tell you mine,” I say roughly. I tip my head back, then turn to face her. I sit again, this time in an armchair across from her.

“Okay.” She blinks those beautiful eyes at me.

“I told you Hank was my best buddy.”

“Yes.”

“We were friends since we played together in Rimouski. He didn’t turn pro; he might’ve had a shot at getting drafted, but he decided to go to university instead. He got an engineering degree, got a job working for a big petrochemical company, and ended up moving down here.”

She’s watching me. I think I might puke.

“He met Heather and got married. They had Owen. We stayed in touch. One thing we both loved was skiing and snowboarding.”

Her eyes flicker and her forehead furrows briefly.

I keep going. “We went on a trip together, snowboarding in the Rockies, in British Columbia. The hockey season had just ended for me, we were out of the playoffs, so Hank and I took off for a week. It was gorgeous, perfect weather. We started into our first run of the day, on a double black diamond run on the back side of the resort.”

I stop, pressing a fist to my stomach, memories crowding my mind. “It was so fast. Hank was ahead of me, and then I saw...”I swallow. “I saw the snow in front of me give way. It fell down the hill, so fast, right toward Hank.”

“Oh God.” She covers her mouth with one hand.

“All I could do was watch as it caught up to him. It pushed him toward the trees on the side of the run. I saw his board, and then the snow pulled him right through the trees.” My voice is shaking and I take a few seconds to breathe, the images so clear and horrific to me.

“Wyatt,” Everly whispers, eyes now full of pain.

“I unstrapped my board and tried to run to him, through all the dirt and branches from the avalanche. I saw him in the snow, his feet uphill. His head was against a tree.” I close my eyes. “He was conscious... at first. He called me and I scrambled to try to get him, but... Christ.” I rub a hand over my face. “He kept saying, ‘Wyatt, help me.’” Now my voice breaks and Everly is there, kneeling in front of me, curling her hands around mine. I grip her hands. “There was a hole in his throat and his face was smashed.” Tears slide down my face. I don’t even care. “I was going to undo his bindings, but his leg was basically wrapped around a tree. I took my toque off and tried to use it to stop the bleeding from his throat. Meanwhile I got my cellphone out and tried to call 911, but I couldn’t get a signal.”

Everly releases my hands and rises up, cupping my face. Tenderly, she wipes the tears away. Her eyes are full of sympathy, not judgment.

“I started yelling for help. In between I was telling Hank to hold on, we’d get out, he’d be okay. But... I couldn’t save him. By the time help finally got there, he was dead.”

I lean my forehead against hers, setting my hands on her shoulders. She feels so small... but so strong. For a few moments, neither of us says a word, emotions swamping me, stealing my voice. I’m remembering how I felt, sitting in the snow with my dead best friend, totally helpless.

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