Page 58 of Sew Matcha in Love
“I’d love to hear more about your life there,” I said.
“Are you sure? It’s after midnight over there.”
“I’m sure.”
“All right. If you fall asleep while I’m droning on, I promise to forgive you.”
I snorted. “Good, because I heard you can be a bore.”
He groaned, deep and theatrically.
“You sound like a dying moose, Marsch.”
“Your words speak daggers! Oh, the wound you’ve inflicted to my heart! How can you be so cruel as to insult me so? And who told you that? I must prank them appropriately.”
I was full-on laughing now. “I’ll never tell. Start talking.”
He sighed dramatically. “Picture it. A breezy summer day in Copenhagen. My parents were visiting Dad’s family before he had to return to Sheffield for training camp. My older sister, Mirette, was obsessed withThe Little Mermaid.As the famous statue came into her sightline, I gave my mother a swift kick—so my dad tells it—breaking her water right there on the promenade.”
I yawned. “Ouch.”
“I’m boring you already, eh?”
“Not at all. Go on.” I turned my face away from the phone as the next yawn hit.
“I was born later that day. We stayed in Denmark for a couple more weeks and then went home to England. South Yorkshire is a beautiful place, Wynnie. You’d love it. Rich history, rolling hills, rugged moorlands, lush gardens, wetlands, birdwatching, castles …”
Castles. I like castles.I drifted off to sleep to visions of mermaids and castles and a tall, kind, ginger-bearded king ruling over the land with the sweetest little princesses by his side, blowing a kiss to an auburn-haired maiden on horseback and whispering, “Sweet dreams, Wynna-bun.”
CHAPTER 20
Zaki
The Olympic break was flying by. Our first weekend at the cabin was medicine to my soul. Arwyn had picked up enough hockey knowledge and lingo and chirping to play two-on-two with the girls and me. She and Amelie gave Isla and I a run for our money.
After the girls went to bed, we’d sit by the fire and talk. And the more we talked, the harder it was not to lean over and kiss her. But I refrained. I had to be sure that she was sure about starting something because I couldn’t open my heart to breaking again. If the season ended and we parted as friends, I could handle that.
But if we became more and she didn’t want to come with us back to Canada…
The possibility of not having her in my life—inourlives—stole my breath and not in a good way. It strangled my lungs and crushed my heart.
What didn’t hurt my heart was my decision not to play in the Olympics. Denmark didn’t have a chance at winning, and it felt good to give the opportunity to a younger guy. And the quality time I gained with my girls and Arwyn—that was more important than anything.
The morning of the gala—Valentine’s Day—the girls woke me up by jumping on my bed and kiss-bombing my face. I returned their greeting with tickles, and while we tousled, I noticed Arwyn in the doorway, in her kimono, holding some sort of … crown?
Luckily, Isla and Amelie tired quickly. As they lay on me gasping for breath, I asked them if all the kisses meant that I was their Valentine.
“Of course you’re our Valentine, Daddy!” Isla huffed. “There’s no boy at school that’s as good as you.” She hopped off the bed to retrieve the crown thing from Arwyn.
I laughed as she placed the homemade circlet of glittery construction paper on my head. “Good. I’m happy to be your Valentine. But…”
“What, Daddy?” Amelie asked. “Don’t you like your King Valentine crown? I cut it out and wrote ‘King Daddy’ and Isla glued on all the sparkles.”
“I do. I feel very loved. And very dashing. But … does Wynnie have a Valentine?”
I met her gaze. She raised her eyebrows, and I grinned.
“Of course, Daddy,” Amelie assured me. “Laffy and Vennie are her Valentines!”
