Page 27 of From Ice to Home
Her gaze flickers away from mine, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
She’s really trying to bury this, to act like it never happened, like I never happened. Placing my hands on my head, I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The reality of it all is hitting me hard…she’s running.
“So, this means nothing to you then?” My voice is quieter than I intended, but the hurt is there, plain and raw. I look at her, hoping for something—anything—but all I see are the tears of fear and regret filling her green eyes.
“Everything that happened was a lie?” I ask. “You regret all of it?”
I’m struggling to accept it. The woman who sat next to mein the restaurant, the one who laughed with so much freedom once we said ‘I do’, is not the woman staring at me now.
Her hand flies to her mouth as if to stifle a sob, and she shakes her head.
“Lucas…” she begins, her voice trembling. “We made a mistake last week. We acted impulsively, and look what it got us. In one night, we changed everything. Your entire life…mine. This isn’t right, and you know it.”
“I don’t know that.” My reply comes without hesitation because I believe it. We were impulsive, maybe even a bit reckless. But this…us…has never felt wrong.
“You do.” Her eyes search mine, begging me to see things from her perspective.
“Tell me why?” I demand, my voice thick with frustration and desperation. “Explain to me how this can’t be right. We might not have done this the right way, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be together.”
She looks away, her hands trembling at her sides. The morning breeze moves a strand of her golden hair across her face and she tucks it behind her ear. Her gaze meets mine again, this time with a deep sense of fear. Or regret.
“We got married after spending a few hours together,” she says, shaking her head again. “Lucas, we hardly know each other.”
“That’s not true, Hannah.” My voice rises slightly, not believing the words that are coming from her mouth. “You can say so many things about the two of us, but saying that I don’t know you?”
I step toward her, my hands finding her arms, my grip gentle but firm. She shivers beneath my touch, tilting her head up to look me in the eye. This close, my eyes run over every feature of her beautiful face…every feature I’ve already memorized. The exact location of her freckles, the slight dip in her cheek when she really smiles, the way her eyes shift to deep blue if she’s wearing darker clothes.
How can she stand there and tell me we don’t know each other?
“I know you, Sanders,” I whisper, wiping a tear with my thumb. “Don’t tell me I don’t.”
She shakes her head, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know why you evenwantthis,” she admits, her words landing like a punch to my gut. “You have a perfect life in New York. You have your team, you’re on your way to win the playoffs, you have your entire career ahead of you. This…” she exhales shakily, like she’s forcing herself to say the words, “this was just a set-back. Something that happened in Vegas while you were taking a few days off. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“How could you think that?” I shake my head, stepping away from her, completely baffled. “I don’t understand where this is coming from. We’ve known each other our whole lives. Hell, we dated for two years before you called it quits. How can you stand there and act like there’s nothing between us? Like this was some kind of drunken mistake with a stranger?”
“There’s nothing but a past between us,” she says, her tone resigned, her words like ice water over my hopes.
She knocks the wind out of me.
It’s clear now that I made a mistake coming here. Maybe she got caught up in the moment last week, swept away by nostalgia and the thrill of seeing someone she once knew. Or maybe that’s what happened to me. I got swept up in the hope that maybe God had answered my prayers and given me back the woman I’ve always wanted. Maybe I was the only one who thought this meant something.
“If that’s the way you feel, then why are you still standing here, talking to me?” My voice is tight, the frustration now impossible to hide.
“Because we need to figure this out,” she says, her tone unsteady, her green eyes searching.
“What’s there to figure out, Hannah?” I ask, taking a step back, the space between us is already too big to fix right now. “You already decided what you want. You’ve made that pretty clear. And I guess I should honor your decision. You don’t want this. You’ve never wanted this. So why don’t we just get in touch with a lawyer and figure out our next step to undo this.”
I move toward the truck, done with this conversation. I don’t know what else she wants from me. She doesn’t seem to want a discussion—arealdiscussion. She’s made up her mind.
“Lucas, wait,” she calls after me, her voice breaking, her eyes full of tears. “I just…I just want to go back to the way things were before all this.”
“That can’t happen,” I say, backing further away from her, straight toward the truck that’s waiting for me. “No matter how much you wish it. It’s done. I’m leaving tomorrow, and then I’ll get in touch with my lawyer in New York. I’ll have to explain this to my manager and let the PR team try to get ahead of it. Maybe they can help keep all of this quiet if that’s what you want.”
Her lip trembles, but she doesn’t respond. I exhale sharply, pulling open the truck door. “If you want to sign papers and pretend none of this ever happened…” I pause, swallowing hard. “I guess I can’t stop you.”
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I start the ignition, the rumble of the engine breaking the thick silence. I pull away, not bothering to glance in the rearview mirror, knowing exactly what I’d see: the golden-haired girl standing there, telling me to leave again.
I’ve done this once too many times before.
