Page 25 of Our Hearts to Break

“No,” Nate spits back.

“Did something happen today?”

Nate shakes his head, arms folded over his chest. He stares blankly at the wall.

“He woke up from a nightmare of his first interaction with Veronica,” I tell the doctor.

Dr. Swanson nods, lips pressed into a thin line. She has the best poker face, devoid of any emotion. I guess it’s her job to remain impartial, to listen without judgment, and to offer advice.

“Flashbacks and night terrors are a result of your brain trying to process the trauma. Do you take anything to help you sleep?”

“No,” Nate grunts.

“He doesn’t sleep well,” I explain. “Most nights, Nate ends up in my bed because of his nightmares.”

Dr. Swanson grabs a small pad from the table beside her and scribbles on it. “I’m writing you a prescription for an antidepressant that might help you sleep better.”

“Don’t bother,” Nate hisses, rolling his eyes. “It won’t fucking work anyway. Nothing ever does.”

I slide across the couch and put my hand on his knee. His leg jumps at the sudden contact, knocking my hand to the cushion.

“Nate, please. You haven’t talked to me since breakfast. What’s going on? Did I do something? Did you not like what we did last night?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“What happened last night?” Dr. Swanson says in a soft tone.

“Nothing,” Nate lies.

“We almost had sex,” I tell her, shifting my gaze to Dr. Swanson. “And until this morning, I thought we were going to explore having a relationship, but now… I don’t know what I did to upset him.”

The vein in my neck pulses as my heart rate picks up. Not knowing where we stand kills me.

“You lied to me,” Nate says after an awkward pause. “I fucking trusted you, River.”

I want to touch him again, but I don’t want to upset him further, and keep my hands on my lap. “What did I do? I’m not a mind reader.”

His head snaps to me, a single tear streaming down his cheek. “You made plans to meet with NHL teams during the Thanksgiving break and never told me. I had to hear it from my dad this morning. He was so fucking smug about it, too. Why did he know before me? Hmmm? Why, River? We tell each other everything.”

“Because I knew you’d react this way,” I say to defend myself. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late.” Nate leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and puts his hands over his face. “Why did you talk me into doing that with you… if you were just going to leave me anyway? You’re no different from everyone else.”

His words slice into my chest, a deep wound that aches as I breathe.

How do I respond?

Playing for an NHL team has been my goal for years, the inevitable evolution of my hockey career. Nate understood this long before we kissed.

“That’s not true.” I angle my body to face him and suck in a deep breath, blowing it out through my nose to calm my anxiety. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, Nate. I want to be with you.”

He looks up, his golden-brown eyes red-rimmed and glassy. “I gave you everything. And you don’t even trust me. How is this ever going to work?”

“You’re just making excuses for why we can’t be together because you’re scared.”

He swipes his thumb beneath his eye to capture another tear. “What happened to waiting until you graduate to talk to teams? We made plans.”

I roll my shoulders against the soft cushion. “My dad pressured me into setting up the meetings. He said they won’t wait forever, and he’s right. I already turned down three teams to play for KU.”

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