Once I pass security, I essentially run across the tarmac at Chicago’s O’Hare airport, racing towards the plane. I’ve been dying to talk to Stevie while trying to respect her boundaries of needing time.
The Stanley Cup Finals start tomorrow with game one in Pittsburgh, and I’ve been itching to get this road trip started for reasons outside of hockey. It took everything in me not to call her after my mom left yesterday, but we’re going to have three days in Pittsburgh together, and I’ll be able to explain it better in person anyway.
I hope she’s proud of me. I think she will be.
Coaches, staff, and my teammates litter the aisle as I wade through the crowd to my seat in the exit row. Standing on my toes, I look over the boys’ heads and into the back galley for Stevie, but there are too many people in my way.
Taking my seat, my knees bounce, anxiously waiting for her to come do the safety demo. Everything will be okay. It has to be.
“Jesus.” Maddison plops into his seat next to me. “You fucking sprinted out here.”
“Sorry.” I look towards the back galley again but find no sign of Stevie. “I get to talk to her today, so I’m just anxious.”
“Don’t worry,” Maddison reassures. “She’s going to understand. Just tell her everything.”
After Stevie’s name got released, I was worried she’d be fired. But she’d tell me if she had, and I haven’t heard a word from her yet.
“Are you two ready for me to brief you on the window exit?”
Finally.
But looking up, it’s not my curly-haired flight attendant wanting our attention. It’s not Indy, and it’s not that bitchy one either.
“Who are you?” I harshly ask.
“I’m Natalie.” She offers a kind smile, the innocence radiating off her.
“Where’s Stevie?”
Her brows furrow. “Who’s Stevie?”
Who’s Stevie? What the hell?
My eyes shoot to Maddison, but he’s equally as confused as I am. Jumping from my seat, I dart towards the back galley, shoving my teammates out of the way when I have to.
“Where is she?” I ask Indy with desperation.
She inhales a deep breath, eyes unable to meet mine.
“Indy, where the fuck is she?”
Finally, she looks up at me, her gaze full of sympathy. Unable to answer, she simply shakes her head.
“Did she get fired?” I frantically ask, my voice rising. “Did that chick really fire her when her name got released?”
I take a quick step towards the front of the plane, ready to give that lead flight attendant a piece of my mind, but Indy grabs my arm, holding me back.
“She didn’t get fired. She quit after our last flight. Before her name was even released.”
What? There’s no way. She promised she’d talk to me today. She wouldn’t lie to me.
Would she?
“Did you know?” My throat is tight, my eyes burning as I desperately look at Stevie’s coworker.
Indy shakes her head. “She didn’t tell me until after we landed. I had no idea.”
I melt into the wall behind me in disbelief. Is this really happening? Why wouldn’t she tell me? Why’d she let me believe I still had a chance?
She was the best part of this season, and now in the final hours, she’s gone.
I need to see her. I need to talk to her and apologize. Tell her about my conversation with my mom. Take responsibility for breaking up with her because I was scared. Beg for her to understand.
I need her, but she’s not here, and I’m not sure I can wait three more days until we’re back in Chicago.
“One more thing you should know,” Indy says, regret lacing her tone. “She took a new job. She’s moving to Seattle.”
49
STEVIE
Two days in, and the apartment hunt is a bust so far. Anything nice and in a good area is out of my price range. I’d have to commute or live in a dump, neither of which I want to do. Truthfully, I don’t want to do any of it. I don’t want to be here, which makes finding a place to live all the more difficult.
My mind is on Chicago, and my heart is in Pittsburgh.
Zanders and the team are there, and I didn’t realize I would feel this much disappointment in missing the finals, but I do. This whole season, traveling with them, watching them climb the ranks and win series after series, made me feel like I was a part of it. And now, with the final series underway, I’m across the country, over two thousand miles away, completely out of the loop.
What was the vibe when the guys got on board this morning? Were they nervous? Excited? Focused? What song did Rio blast as he walked down the aisle to his seat?
How is Zanders doing after he saw his mom yesterday?
I want all the answers, and I could easily get them if I replied to one of Zanders’ endless texts or phone calls. He hadn’t reached out once since he ended things, but I’d imagine when he got on the plane this morning and realized I wasn’t there after I said I would be, his plan went straight out the window.
My hotel room is cold, bleak, and dark, but the city right outside is lively and bright, bursting with people. When I stepped outside earlier, the fresh ocean breeze filled my nostrils with its salty scent as well as a waft of fresh coffee and flowers.
I don’t want any of it.
I want the smell of Zanders’ penthouse right after breakfast gets delivered because neither of us knows how to cook. I miss the scent of SDOC right after everyone’s weekly baths when the whole building smells like shampoo. I’d even take the waft of my disgusting brother coming home from practice over this.
I want Chicago, but I’m here.
I guess I should go outside and explore my future city, but instead, I’m lying in my bed, mid-afternoon, watching my phone as Zanders’ texts continue to roll in.
I haven’t seen his name on my screen in far too long, and I missed it.
I miss him.
Zee (Daddy) Zanders: Stevie, please answer.
Zee (Daddy) Zanders: Can you call me?
Zee (Daddy) Zanders: Vee, I’m freaking the fuck out right now. Will you please talk to me?
Once again, his name flashes across my phone as Zanders’ handsome face fills my screen with a picture of one of our lazy mornings together. The photo is one I snapped. He’s in bed, shirtless, eyes closed but awake with a knowing smile on his lips.
Every part of me misses every part of him and our lives together.
Which is precisely what causes me to answer my phone.
“Stevie?” His voice is sad and broken.
I hold the phone tightly to my ear, closing my eyes from hearing the pain in his tone.
“Please don’t go,” he begs.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay silent.
“I thought you were going to be here today. I thought you got fired, but you quit? Stevie, I’m begging you, please don’t move. I need you.”
I sink into my mattress, the phone held tightly to my ear. Taking a deep breath, I let Zanders’ words wash over me. It’s something I wanted, needed to hear, but didn’t believe I ever would again. The only thing he’s said to me since we broke up is that he wanted to talk, and in that time, not once did I allow myself to get my hopes up for more. Why would I? The last thing he said was goodbye.