Page 196 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“They can’t keep you out,” she says. “If they suspend you, it looks like they’re siding with him. The league hates bad optics more than anything.”
For a moment, I can’t move. I’d braced for weeks of headlines calling me a monster, another punishment for losing control. Instead, people are calling me the man who defended his fiancée.
Juliet slides her hand into mine, steady and sure. “You’re going back sooner than they wanted. For once, everyone is looking at the real you.”
I blink. “What?”
“Someone recorded the whole thing. Patrick calling me a charity case, saying I weaponize my body, all of it. You are obviously defending me. It’s everywhere.” She slides me her phone, open to Instagram. “People are calling him a misogynistic piece of shit. His own team fined him and benched himindefinitely.”
I scroll through the responses. Thousands of comments supporting me, condemning Patrick, calling my punch justified.Whoa.
“They’re saying you’re a hero for defending me,” Juliet continues. “People say any decent man would have protected his fiancée like that.”
“Public sentiment is a hell of a thing,” I say, echoing her words from months ago. “I guess we can’t exactly drop the whole fiancée charade soon, though.”
“I suppose not.” Her lips tip up and she plays with her engagement ring. “I’m pretty attached to this ring now.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Are you saying you never want to take it off?”
Juliet wets her lips with her tongue, studying me, then looking down at her ring again.
“We aren’t there, Hux. We both deserve to date each other for a while. Get dressed up, go out on the town, have long conversations late at night about where we want our lives to go. When we agreed to have this fake engagement, we skipped all this incredibly important stuff that you normally start a relationship off with. I don’t want to miss one second of that stuff with you.” She glances up at me through her lashes. “I mean, if you want that.”
I’m genuinely touched that she gives a fuck about me. I’d do anything for this woman. Of course I’ll go back to the beginning and take it slow.
“I’m going to tell you the truth, Monroe. If you’d let me, I’d walk you down the aisle tomorrow. I have already decided about you.”
She touches my jaw, smiling softly.
“Don’t get it twisted. I love you, Hux. I just want us to have the luxury of getting to know each other again for at least a few months before we talk about… you know, getting engaged for real.”
“Baby, I love you. I’ve waited years for you. I’ll wait a lifetime if you insist on it. My position is crystal clear. My heart is yours.”
Her lips part. “Oh,Hux.”
There’s that nickname again, expelled so gently from her lips. I lean in to kiss her, smiling.
I’m in no rush. When my girl is ready, I’ll be waiting.
* * *
The next evening, I’m back on the ice for what should have been my second suspended game. The crowd gives me a standing ovation when I skate out for warm-ups. It’s not something I expect and I have to blink hard to keep my composure.
Then, I play the best game of my entire career.
After the game, which we win handily, the media wants to talk about everything except hockey. They want to know about my relationship with Juliet, about the personal growth, about whether I’m really changed or just better at controlling myself.
“Both, I guess,” I say honestly. “I’ve changed, but I’m also human. When someone attacks the woman I love, says vile things designed to hurt her, I’m going to react. Maybe not always perfect, but I’m going to react.”
I look at Juliet, who is blushing like a schoolgirl. I arch a brow, wondering whether she’s wearing one of those lacy little thongs that I love so much under that short navy dress.
“Do you regret hitting him?” a reporter asks.
Oh, yeah. For a second, I forgot that the cameras were here. Juliet has that effect on me, always dragging my mind away from the parts of life I don’t like.
“I regret that it came to that. But do I regret defending my fiancée? Never.”
The reporter leans forward. “Some people say this proves you haven’t really changed at all.”
