Page 13 of The Fine Line
This woman’s going to be the death of me.
And honestly? Some days, I don’t think I’d mind.
Caroline slips through the door then, pausing just as it’s about to close to look back at me one more time.
“You have no shortage of company, Rhett,” she says. “You don’t need me.”
And maybe that’s true.
But it doesn’t stop me from wanting her anyway.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I’m left standing there like an idiot with my hand still on the frame.
The hallway goes still.
It’s the kind of quiet that doesn’t feel peaceful.
Just familiar.
four
RHETT
Fourteen Years Ago
Toronto, ON, CA
The same familiar sounds find my ears as I exit the rink.
“Great game, son.”
“Yes, honey, we’re so proud of you.”
The corner of my mouth twitches into a grin.
And then the family in front of me steps out of view, walking into the parking lot. The dad’s arm slung around his son’s shoulders, the mom leaning in to kiss the side of his head. The kid pulls away, scrunching up his face like it’s the worst thing in the world. Which, of course, only makes his mom laugh and pull him in for another kiss—this one landing right on his cheek, leaving a pink lipstick mark behind.
The whole family bursts into chuckles as they head toward their car. Probably on their way to a restaurant, where they’ll sit down for dinner and recap the game. His parents will ask abouthis day. They’ll talk and eat and laugh. Then they’ll do it all over again next week.
I pull my phone from my bag and unlock it. The same message thread from before the game is still open, staring back at me like a reminder.
Me: Hey, Dad. Just a reminder. First game is Friday at 7 p.m.
Me: I can get tickets for you and Mom if you need.
Me: Do you think you can make it Friday?
Me: I got tickets for you and Mom. I left them on the kitchen counter.
Me: Looking forward to tomorrow!
Me: Big day! Can’t lie, I’m really excited about this one.
Me: I put the tickets in an envelope and taped them to the front door so you can’t miss them.
Me: Do you think you guys can make it?
I blow out a breath, the last of my smile fading as I reread the reply that came through fifteen minutes before puck drop.
