Page 114 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

I shift the car into drive, needing something to do with my hands. "Can we go somewhere to talk? Not your dorm, not the party, somewhere…neutral."

She hesitates, then nods once, a short, jerky movement. "Fine."

I pull away from the curb, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. I want to fill it, to start explaining immediately, but I know better. She needs this moment to collect herself, to process, to decide how much she's willing to hear.

We drive for several minutes in complete silence, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from Hannah as she tries to regain control. I don't head toward campus, instead taking the turn toward my apartment.

"Where are we going?" she asks immediately, her voice tight.

"My place," I say, then quickly add, "Just to talk. You're free to leave whenever you want. I just…I need to take some pain medication, and all my stuff is there."

She glances at me, really looks at me for the first time since getting in the car, and I see concern flicker across her face. "Your head hurts."

"Like a bitch," I admit, wincing as we pass under a streetlight that sends a spike of pain through my temple. "But that's not important right now."

"It is," she argues, ever practical even in the midst of emotional turmoil. "You were injured. You need to take care of yourself."

"I will. After we talk."

"Your health comes first," she insists. "Take me to your apartment. You can take your medication, and then…then we'll see."

It's not forgiveness, not reconciliation, but it's a start. "Thank you."

We lapse into silence again, but it feels marginally less hostile now. When I steal glances at her profile, I can see her mind working, processing, weighing what she knows against what she feels.

"Cade came to see me on Monday," I say finally, unable to bear the silence any longer. "He brought someone with him. Someone I hoped I'd never see again."

Hannah shifts slightly in her seat, curiosity warring with reserve. "Who?"

"My ex from high school. Megan." Even saying her name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. "She's the reason I have trust issues. The reason I've kept people at arm's length for years."

Hannah doesn't speak, but I can feel the quality of her attention changing, sharpening.

"We were together senior year," I continue, focusing on the road rather than her reaction. "I thought it was serious. When I got my scholarship here, she…took it personally. Like I was abandoning her. We broke up."

I grip the steering wheel tighter, the next part still difficult to say even years later. "A week later, she texted saying she was pregnant."

Hannah's sharp intake of breath is the only sound in the car. I risk a glance at her face, finding shock and something that might be empathy in her expression. She’s waiting patiently for me to continue.

"For two months, I was a complete wreck," I continue, the words coming easier now that I've begun. "I thought my life was over—my hockey career, college, everything. I was trying to figure out how to support a kid, whether I should defer school, if I'd lose my scholarship. It was…hell."

I turn onto my street, the familiar route requiring little concentration. "Then I found out she made the whole thing up. As some kind of twisted revenge for leaving. To teach me a 'lesson' about thinking I was too good for her."

"James," Hannah breathes, the name a balm on my raw nerves. "That's awful."

"Yeah, it was." I pull into my parking spot, turning off the engine but making no move to exit the car. "And that's who Cade brought to my apartment Monday morning. That's why I've been distant all week. Not because of the game, not because I was losing interest in you. Because my brother deliberately dragged up the worst period of my life as some kind of sick revenge."

"Revenge for what?" she asks, though I think she already knows the answer.

"For you," I say simply.

Understanding dawns in her eyes. "That's why you were playing so aggressively tonight."

I nod. "They were both there. Cade brought her just to fuck with me. I saw them right across from the penalty box. I couldn't miss them even if I tried."

"So, when I saw you with that girl at the party—"

"I was already in a fucked-up headspace," I finish for her. "Between Cade's mind games, getting injured, missing the end of the biggest game of the season…I was on autopilot. Falling back into old patterns."

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