Page 93 of In My Hockey Era
And damn if that doesn’t gut me.
I scrub a hand down my face, steadying myself before I open the door.
Lucy stands there, arms wrapped around herself, her face unreadable.But it’s her eyes that kill me—dark and guarded, a sharp contrast to the last time she was here.That night… gosh.It was everything.And now?I don’t even know where we stand.
I step aside to let her in, swallowing the urge to reach for her, to touch her, to do anything that might shake this awful tension that’s settled between us.
The door clicks shut behind her.
She doesn’t move further into the apartment.She just stands there in the entryway, stiff and silent.
I clear my throat.“Thanks for coming.”
Lucy exhales slowly, her fingers flexing at her sides before she lifts her gaze to mine.“You said you wanted to talk in person.”
There’s no teasing in her voice.No warmth.Just quiet restraint.And I hate it.I hate this.
I nod, moving past her toward the kitchen, needing something to do with my hands.I grab two glasses from the cabinet, and fill them with water, because offering her anything else feels… wrong.Like I don’t deserve to act normal.
She takes the glass without a word, stepping further inside, her posture wary.
I rub the back of my neck, forcing myself to meet her eyes.“I should’ve told you sooner.”
Her lips press together.“Yeah.”
I blow out a breath, setting my glass down.“I don’t even know where to start.”
She huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it.“Maybe with the part where you were married, Bennett.”
I flinch, the weight of it settling heavier between us.
“Or at least tell me the divorce is final.”
“Yes.Of course it’s final.”
Her arms tighten around herself, and that’s when I realize—she’s keeping distance between us on purpose.
I grip the edge of the counter, jaw clenched.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I wanted to.Believe me.”
“But you didn’t.”
The truth is, I wanted to tell her a dozen times.I almost brought it up when I was telling her about Natalie’s divorce, but then I talked myself out of it.
I release a slow exhale.“Come sit down.”
I lead her over to the couch and she sits on one end—far from me.I hate it.
“How long did you know her?Holly, right?”
“Before we got married?Four years.We went to college together.Dated throughout most of undergrad.”
Lucy’s expression doesn’t change.“Okay so it wasn’t some drunken Vegas bet.”
I exhale hard, running a hand through my hair.“No.I thought it was real.I loved her.”I force myself to say it out loud, even though the words scrape against my throat like gravel.
