Page 113 of Heartless Game

It would be so easy to finish writing the article I’d started, load it up ontoThe Daily Queenwebsite, and hit publish. To choose my mother over him.

But I couldn’t. As I sat there with Toby, all I could see was Isaac’s face when he discovered I’d betrayed him that way. Seeing him dragged away in handcuffs—the scary kind—and knowing I’d destroyed his life. I couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t hurt him that way, because it would be like ripping my own heart out.

In that moment, I chose Isaac over my mom. In my head, I’d promised her that I’d find another way to free her. I didn’t know how, but I would.

It just wouldn’t be by hurting Isaac.

But here I was, soaking wet in his shower. I’d seen his face, and it had been more horrible than I’d ever imagined. He’d been so angry, frightening enough that I’d flinched and protected myself when he loomed over me, soaked and livid. I knew, of course, that he’d never hit me, but it made me flash back to times my stepfather had been angry.

Isaac would never hit me, but he had hurt me, and his words would leave bruises.

So had him dumping me. He’d never left me before. Even at the worst of our battles, I’d never imagined him kicking me out of his house, which had been beginning to feel like a real home. He’d been so emphatic that I was his and he was mine, I’d believed him.

Tovah, bashert, I promise, the only person I’m ever marrying is you.

He’d said those words just last night, even when we were fighting, but clearly he didn’t mean them.

I thought I’d run out of tears, that there were none left. But as I sat there in the shower, hugging my knees, my tears mixed with the water pouring over me, until I didn’t know which was which. The water turned cold, and still, I didn’t move. I welcomed the cold, the pain, hoping it would numb my heart so I’d stopfeelingso much.

It didn’t work.

46

Isaac

Ibarely made it out of the bathroom before everything in me started screaming to go back.

Especially when I heard Tovah’s sobs.

Fuck, what was I even doing? Leaving the woman I loved crying in my bathroom? Breaking her heart because I’d never dealt with my past trauma, or my anger over my future fate? None of this was her fault. None of it. Not giving up hockey, not going to work for my father, not my violence, not my pain. Certainly not my mother’s death. I’d blamed her, because she was the closest thing to a target I had. I’d bullied and tortured her for the same reasons.

I’d promised myself I’d change, but I was acting like the same asshole who’d tied her naked to the founders’ statue. I rubbed my hands over my face, slowing my breathing and trying to calm my racing heart.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked ravaged, crazed, and cruel. I shook my head. I wasn’t Dr. Dimples, and I wasn’t a monster. What I was, was hers.

Forever. Even when I was a fucking jackass.

Who was I? This was not the man I wanted to be. This was not the man she deserved.

Tovah deserved better.

A different man would recognize that and let her go, give her her freedom and the opportunity to meet someone kinder, peaceful, easy to be with. But I wasn’t a different man, and I wasn’t giving her up. Which meant that I had to be a better man—the best version of myself.

But there was no best version of myself, without her by my side.

Starting now.

47

Tovah

My whole body felt like ice. Worse. Like ice after a whole period of a hockey game, scratched and broken. And there was no one to clean me up and dust me off—but me.

Shivering, I began to stand, planning on shutting off the shower, finding a towel, and drying myself. I tried not to think about what it felt like when Isaac was the one to dry me off, the care he took. The towel, so soft before, would feel like sandpaper on my raw skin, I knew it. Because I was raw all over, vulnerable in ways I hadn’t been before.

But then the bathroom door opened, and Isaac was striding toward the shower.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a voice scratching from crying.

---