Page 4 of The Pretend Christmas Bride

Edward

"You think she’ll turn up?" Sinclair spots me as I bench press twice my body’s weight. My chest squeezes down, my shoulders scream in protest, my biceps threaten to tear apart, but I ignore it. Breathe through it. In and out.

"She will."

"And if she doesn’t?" He assists me as I push the barbell up and over my head.

"She will," I grunt.

"There’s a chance she won’t."

"If she doesn’t, there are more fish in the sea, but she will." I lower the weight down to my chest, hold, then he assists me as I hoist the barbell up again. The tendons on my throat strain, and my triceps feel like they are being shredded. I push the barbell up and hold. And hold. Sweat runs down my temples, between my pecs. My stomach muscles harden, my thighs contract. I push my feet into the floor and brace. Brace.You need to bear the weight. Bear the mistakes of your past. Bear how you were abandoned by your parents when you needed them most. Bear how she decided you were not the one.Not that I blame her. Baron would be—has been—a better husband for her. And now, they have a child. A family. Moisture trickles out from the corners of my eyes, joining the beads of sweat on my face.

"You okay, mate?" Sinclair murmurs.

"Why wouldn’t I be?" I begin to lower the barbell down, and he doesn’t let go. He helps me as I push up and through the pain again.Work through it. Keep riding it. At some point, you’ll find the calm in the center of the storm.At some point, I’ll figure out my life’s purpose.

It's the only reason I took the meeting with my grandfather. My father’s father, who I never met before. Never even knew existed. Imagine my surprise when he called me and introduced himself. My father never spoke about him.

After the incident, the communication with my parents broke down. They were at a loss for how to deal with what had happened to me. And I took refuge in whatever helped me find oblivion from the emotional pain I was carrying—am still carrying—inside.

I almost hung up, but he pleaded with me to meet him. Just once. Ten minutes of my time. I finally agreed because, why not?

Being the General Manager of the London Ice Kings has given me some focus. Working with Rick Mitchell, the captain of the team, we steered the team to victory in the League. From being the underdogs to one of the highest paid teams in the world, and in one season. It was unheard of. I'd accepted the position as a favor to Knight, the owner of the team. But in working toward a greater goal, I discovered some measure of satisfaction. You can take the priest out of the church, but you can’t take the need to help people from him. It's also the reason I agreed to my grandfather's request.

"You’ve been through a lot in the past week." Sinclair helps me ease the bar onto the rack. I draw in a breath, feel my heart thunder in my chest, and the blood pounds in my ears, drowning out all thoughts for a few seconds. It’s the main reason I work out. Pushing my body in a way I can’t push my mind. Controlling how much I can lift in a manner I never can control my thinking.

All those restraints, the limitations I imposed on myself. I lived my life according to the directives of the Church. Found some modicum of peace in the routine, the daily prayers, the sermons… All the while, knowing the storm brewing inside me would break loose, and ignoring the warning signs. Until it did. I sinned, and punished myself by leaving the house of God.

Unmoored, I left everything behind. I travelled until I managed to ground myself. And by the time I returned? It was too late. She had turned to Baron. And they were—they are—happy together. And me?

The empty shell that constitutes me, Edward Chase, lives from moment-to-moment, not quite sure what I wanted out of life. I feel un-needed, unwanted, useless to everyone, even myself. Maybe, that’s why I grasped onto Grandfather's ask. Maybe, I could be of help to someone, after all.

I don’t need a shrink to tell me I'm going about this all wrong. I don’t need a shrink to tell me the person I see when I look in the mirror is not the person I was. Or the person I want to be. I don’t need my friends to point out I'm on a one-way trip to a crisis again. Hell, I'm living from one crisis to another internally. Every minute I get through without doing something I'll regret is a win. As is the deal I made with my grandfather. It gives me a reason to…keep going.

I sit up, then reach for my bottle of water and chug from it. I lower it and raise a shoulder. "I’ll live."

"For how long?" he asks softly.

"For however long it takes, I assume."

He searches my features. "I’m worried about you."

I bark out a laugh. "Since when did you start going soft?" I raise a hand. "Forget I said that. All six of you are married, and most of you with kids… Who’d have thought?"

His mouth curves in a smile, the kind I never thought I’d see on Sinclair fucking Sterling’s face. The meaner they are, the harder they fall, apparently. The seven of us are united by an incident that changed our lives forever. And each of my friends went through their journey and found their soulmates. That's not my path, and that's okay. I'm happy they're happy. All of them. Including Baron. He makes her happy, and in her happiness is mine.

"Speaking of,"—he tilts his head—"what time is your girl coming to the office?"

"Not my girl, merely a—"

"Cog in the wheel?" His smile grows sly. "A piece in the puzzle. A—"

"Stepping stone to my larger plan? Yes," I say dryly.

"Hmm." He snatches up a bottle of water, twists open the cap and chugs from it.

"The fuck does that mean?"

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