Page 103 of Your Pucking Mom

He released my hair, and I nearly collided with the wooden door. Without a second thought, I bolted downstairs, leaving behind any semblance of composure. I didn’t bother seeking Emma out, nor did I glance back to see if anyone noticed my disheveled state. All I wanted was to flee, to put distance between myself and that suffocating room. I would bear the consequences of my actions for a long time.

53

ledger

my favorite person

My heart ached as I listened, her story leaving me drained and painfully aware of my own inadequacy. Each slow stroke of my thumb over her hand seemed insignificant against the weight of her pain, but I couldn’t stop wishing I could shield her from it all.

“Ledger?” The word caught in her throat, causing her to cough. I reached out, pulling her close with an urgency borne of desperation. I cared not for the potential judgment of others who might see us entwined in such an intimate embrace. All I craved was the closeness of her presence, the warmth of her being a small balm against the overwhelming sadness that enveloped us both.

“I had this place, when I tried to imagine myself anywhere else. It felt like it was a recurring nightmare where I’d be transported there. It was raining, and there was someone there who was touching me in ways that made me feel safe, warm, and welcomed.”

She paused and looked around the garden. In a small, quiet voice she whispered, “I was in nature. Just like I am here.”

I kept holding her tight against my chest as she sobbed deeply into me. An overwhelming desire to comfort her, to shield her from any further pain, consumed me. With every heartbeat, I vowed to keep her close, to ensure she never felt alone again. As she cried, the sky cracked and rain poured down on us. Her blonde curls framed her features like a halo. Despite the downpour, her vulnerability seemed to add to her ethereal beauty.

Eventually, as her sobs began to subside, I gently pulled away, cupping her tear-streaked face in my hands. “Was that the reason you asked about the door when we first met?” I asked, searching her eyes for confirmation.

After a pause, she nodded. “It was such a fear of mine—to be trapped inside a room with a man again and not be allowed to leave whenever I wanted to. The control he took from me has been a struggle for me to get back.”

She sighed, but I held her tighter, adjusting her so she was sitting on my lap and looking up at me, almost like I’d held Damien when he was a baby. “You are safe.”

She nodded again as she wiped away her tears, leaving red-streaked eyes and dark circles beneath them. “I know.”

She shook her head, got off me, then stood from the bench. “This was my dream,” she whispered.

I rose to my feet, extending my hand, anticipating her turn. Her gaze met mine, as if delving into the depths of my soul. My love for her overflowed, nearly spilling out in words. I had almost confessed my love to her before, but in that moment, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. She had no idea that I would willingly climb the tallest mountain or lie upon the earth itself just to be nearer to her.

“You.” Her fingers intertwined with mine as the rain came down, soaking us almost instantly.

“Me?” she asked, adjusting the hood on her jacket, reminding me of the moment that I first saw her standing outside my apartment.

Before meeting Auburn, I would’ve told you I didn’t believe in fate, and I certainly never imagined myself involved so intimately in anything other than hockey. It had been my entire life for so long that I didn’t know whoLedgerwas without it. I spent the start of the year in a panic, imagining what I would do after hockey ended, what my retirement would look like. I never wanted to retire as much as I did. I was half tempted to throw it all out for her.

“My favorite person.” I swallowed, knowing she saw the letter I had sent her, one of them being my favorite thing.

“That wasn’t on the list.” She gave me a wry smile, and through the lingering pain in her eyes, I could see that warmth—the light that she brought me.

“My favorite thing is my favorite person, and my favorite person is, well, you.” I shrugged. It was simple. No further explanation was needed.

She pushed up onto her toes, and I wrapped my hands around her waist while leaning down to meet her lips.

“You…too…”

“Me too?” I asked, genuinely confused as I dropped a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re”—she sniffled—“my favorite person too.”

I wrapped her up, picking her up off her feet, and twirled as she let out the sweetest laugh, something I missed hearing after her telling me such a heavy story—her story.

“Should we go for a spot of tea?” I mocked in a slightly atrocious Scottish accent.

Even though her eyes were still rimmed with red and swollen, her hair was stuffed inside her jacket, and her face was mixed with tears, she looked beautiful.

“Wait,” she said, tugging on my hand and keeping me grounded to the gravel beneath my feet. “Ledger…”

Her voice shook again, and I leaned in, waiting to hear whatever else she had to say, wanting to take her pain.

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