That’s all I need to hear, so I take off, ready to get back to my space of safety. But today, there’s not a single place on this plane that feels like a refuge. It’s smaller and more cramped than it’s ever been.
I only make it two steps before Zanders grabs my forearm, willing me to stop. Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared for the physical contact, and his touch burns my skin, reminding my body how much it misses his.
Looking down at his hand, the first thing I notice is my old, tattered ring on his pinky. Why is he still wearing it? I want him to take it off because there’s too much meaning behind it being on his hand, but at the same time, I hope he never does.
Another mistake I make is drifting my gaze north. His hazel eyes are glossed over yet hopeful for my attention. His brows are furrowed, begging for me to stay and talk to him. His Adam’s apple bobs in a thick swallow before he opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him before he can.
“Do you need something? A drink? A pillow? Something to eat? You know, since I’m just your flight attendant now.”
Maddison’s head falls back to his headrest as if my words affected him.
Zanders’ face shows the physical hurt my words cause, but most of me doesn’t care. He hurt me. It’s only fair for him to feel a tiny morsel of what I’m experiencing.
That’s a lie. I love him too much to wish him pain, but in self-preservation, I don’t know how to make myself feel okay at this moment. Or any moment, really.
“Sparkling water, I’m assuming?”
Exhaling a sharp breath, he rapidly blinks and shakes his head until finally, he releases my arm and allows me to leave.
Keeping my stare focused on the back galley, I will my feet to carry me there as quickly as possible, attempting to hold my poker face until I can hide.
“You’re a badass,” Indy compliments as soon as I step into our workspace. “But if you want to take a second to cry, I’ll cover you.”
“Okay,” my voice breaks. “Maybe for just a second.”
I spent the rest of the flight to Seattle hiding in the back. Rio popped his head in at one point, making some joke about Zanders and me hooking up behind everyone’s backs all year, but when I didn’t even crack a smile, he realized his mistake.
It seems, besides Maddison, no one on the team knows that we broke up. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but I’m trying not to read into it. At the end of the day, we’re over, so grasping at straws to give myself a little hope is only going to draw out the heartbreak I’m convinced is going to last a lifetime.
Being in my work uniform reminds me of the compliments Zanders would shower me with while wearing it, so as soon as I’m in my hotel room, I peel it off, changing into my comfiest sweats. Which, of course, reminds me of him as well. I didn’t even pack the ones he gifted me, but it doesn’t matter.
The view from my hotel room overlooks Seattle’s Great Wheel, right there by the water, but as beautiful as the whole thing is, it reminds me of the Navy Pier in Chicago. And that reminds me of Zanders’ apartment, which in turn reminds me of Zanders.
I hate that my brain associates him with every bit of my life in Chicago. I wish I didn’t think about him every second of every day. But that city is filled with him, and I don’t know how to clear him out. He’s inundated every part of my life.
In my heart, Chicago represents Zanders, but so does almost every city in North America that we’ve visited together.
Turning off all the lights in my room, I bury myself under the covers of my bed, needing the darkness to bring me some sleep. It’s only three in the afternoon, but sleeping allows my mind to shut off so I’ve been sleeping the days away, hoping it’ll help pass the time more quickly.
My phone rings on the nightstand, illuminating my pitch-black room, and I could not be more thankful to see my dad’s name across the screen. I’m pretty sure an audible breath of relief leaves me as soon as I answer the phone.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Vee! How’s my girl doing?”
“I’ve been better.”
A small moment of silence lingers between us. My dad found out all about my relationship with Zanders around the time we broke up. Though, a part of me thinks he’s known since he visited at Christmas.
“Ryan called. He was worried about you flying out for playoffs. He wanted me to check on you.”
“That’s nice of you both, but I’ll be okay.”
It might not be true, but I’m manifesting.
“Well, I promised your brother I would check in. So, what room are you in?”
“What?”
“What room are you in? I’m outside your hotel.”
Eyes widening, I pull my phone away from my ear to look at it, though I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s on FaceTime and can prove he’s in Seattle. I’m just in a state of shock.
“Really?” My voice cracks, feeling just a speck of hope for the first time in a while.
“Yeah! Let me up!”
As soon as my dad knocks on my door, I rush him with a crushing hug, needing the joy he always brings into my life.
“I missed you too, Vee.” His big bear hug holds me close before he shows off the six-pack of IPAs in his hand. “And I brought beer.”
“Thank God. I knew I liked you for a reason.”
My dad pops the top on two before handing me one and taking a seat on the couch opposite me.
“So, what’s going on?”
I breathe out a condescending laugh. “Where should I start?”
“Where do you want to start?”
I take a long swig, trying to choke back any emotion that attempts to surface. “Zanders broke up with me.”
“So, do we hate him now or what?”
That pulls a laugh from me. “I’m still deciding.”
“Did he give you a reason, or was this out of the blue?”
“I don’t know. He gave me a reason, but I don’t know that I believe him.”
My dad stays silent, allowing me to continue.
“He said he’s never going to be able to change and that I knew all along who he was, but I don’t think that’s true. I think he’s scared to show his true colors because the reputation he’s earned in the NHL is quite the opposite of what a good man he is. He’s due for a contract renewal, and he doubts himself. You know how important contract years are with Ryan, but this is different. Ryan doesn’t have to lie about who he is to make money, but Zanders feels like he has to.”
“And having a girlfriend doesn’t fit that image,” my dad states, understanding the whole situation with ease. “Does he want to change?”
My shoulders pop in a shrug. “I thought so. I was positive he would be honest about who he is once he got re-signed, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. It seems like he’s convinced himself this is the only way to keep fans invested in his career.”
“How does that make you feel?” My dad takes a long swig of his beer.