Somewhere around the statement when Avery said, "She tried to rectify it," my blood literally froze in my veins and the back of my neck prickled with unease. A tight ball of anxiety lodged deep within my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
"What do you mean," I say, enunciating my words slowly to try to control the shaking of my voice, "she tried to rectify it?"
Avery rolls her eyes at me. "Please...don't play stupid. I'm talking about her calls to you after you left and the way you ignored her. Refused to call her back."
"And an email?" I ask, my throat so dry and gritty feeling.
"Of course an email," Avery huffs out. "But after you didn't respond, she gave up."
"I didn't get any voicemails," I assert confidently.
"Liar," she hisses at me. "I suppose you'll deny her email too. She reached out to you and you turned your back on her."
I drop my arms away from my chest and stand up even straighter, towering over Avery. I lean down, and with rage filling me, I growl at her, "I didn't get any fucking voicemails, and as far as an email..."
My mind races back to that time. Seven years was forever ago, but I'm not surprised I didn't see an email. I wasn't a big email communicator, and as soon as I got to Pittsburgh, I was given an email with the organization. I handed that out to my family to use and that was that. I was lucky if I checked it once a week and my old email was left in the dust.
I could log on to it now. I'm sure it still exists, but I don't even fucking remember what the password is. Would there be an email from Vale spilling her guts to me from long ago? Would she tell me she lied about not loving me? Would she want me back?
The idea of it is almost too horrible to bear, because that means there was so much time fucking wasted. So much misery that could have been avoided, and oh, fuck...my refusal to give in to my renewed feelings for her. All borne of my inner demon-child who was still bitter and angry, and perhaps wanted to punish Vale.
Turning my back on Avery, I scrub both hands through my hair, trying to think. How did I not get her voicemails? My mind races, trying to remember what was going on in my life those first few weeks after I got to Pittsburgh. I started training camp, moved into an apartment. Went out partying with my new teammates, fucked around and tried to purge Vale from my mind.
And then it hit me as clear as day. I had lost my phone on one of those early nights living the high life in my new city. Had gone out, got drunk, fucked some chick, and ended up staying all night at her apartment. I snuck out the next morning and it wasn't until about midday that I realized I didn't have my phone. I assumed I left it at her place and didn't want to go back for it. So I went out with my new money burning a hole in my bank account and bought the newest and most high-speed smartphone out there. I got a new number, proud of my new Pittsburgh area code, and I only gave it out to my teammates and family.
"Son of a fucking bitch," I groan out as I look up toward the sky, clasping my hands on top of my head. My lungs constrict and I feel on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Are you seriously trying to act like you didn't know?" Avery asks skeptically, but I can hear the heat has gone of out of her voice.
I don't turn back to look at her, but continue staring up at the sky. It's dark and cloud covered, not even the moon visible. It makes the gulf between me and Vale seem very bleak at this point.
"I lost my phone not long after I got to Pittsburgh," I say quietly. "I got a new one. New number."
"But her email," she presses.
"Never saw it. Got a new email too," I say, the urge to bend over and vomit now hitting me hard. "Got a whole new fucking life and never looked back."
"Oh," Avery says quietly, and I can clearly hear the pity in her voice right now.
"That sucks, dude," Oliver says.
Yeah, this fucking sucks, and my knees almost buckle as I realize that Vale had already forgiven me for that. She let that go and didn't hold it against me. She was honestly trying to make a new and fresh start with me. She gave in to feelings and emotion, and she let herself love me again without an ounce of regret or fear, even thinking I had ignored her attempts.
She's completely the bigger person of the two of us. That's one thing Avery got right.
Spinning around, I look at Avery, daring her to lie to me. "Where is she?"
She blinks at me in surprise but immediately says, "At Dave's house. They're decorating their Christmas tree."
I spin back around and trot down the steps, reaching into my pocket for the key to the rental car I got at the airport. Calling over my shoulder, I say, "Tell your mom I'm sorry but I can't stay for dinner."
I hear Oliver's laugh, hearty and pleased, and then I leave that all behind.
I've got some major groveling to do if I'm going to get my girl back.
Chapter 28
Vale
"I can't believe how good these cookies are," I say as I take another one from the plate sitting on the coffee table. Just one more, I promise myself.
"Makes up for the completely dried-out pork roast, right?" my dad says with a chuckle as he carefully places a metallic green glass ball on the tree.
"It wasn't that bad," I say kindly, but oh, wow...it was bad. No wonder I'm eating my fifth cookie of the night.
"Baking is apparently my forte," he muses, choosing to accept my kind sentiment about what was possibly the world's worst roast.
"You be in charge of baking, I'll take back cooking duties."
"Deal," he agrees, and reaches into the box for another ornament. As he places a hook through the small wire loop, his voice takes on a bit of a dreamy cast. "I know you probably can't remember, but decorating the tree is one of my best memories of your mom. She loved this stuff so much."
I smile sadly, because my memories of her are so faded. It just seems like it was always dad and me together, my memories of her coming at the hands of dad's sentimental recollections. But I know their love was true. He never sought anyone else after she was gone, preferring not to fight a losing battle in the quest to find that perfect love again.
And boy, do I understand that sad thought. I know I might be shortsighted at the moment, but I can't imagine finding anyone else like Hawke. I think he was the perfect one for me. Well, at least I thought that until I realized his power of forgiveness just isn't that strong, and unfortunately, that's a deal breaker.
I chew on my cookie and pick up an ornament from the box. It's silver with frosted snowflake patterns, and twinkles at me merrily from the white lights that are glowing brightly on the tree. I try desperately to call forth some Christmas spirit, try to remember how I used to love this time of the year and would just be warm and gooey inside from the peace that seems to permeate the air.
Unfortunately, I feel cold and hollow inside, and I know that I'm only going through the motions to appease my father. But that's okay. Like he said, we have a lot to be celebrating this year. And hopefully we'll have the year after, and the year after that. I need to be happy with those unique and special gifts.
A knock on the door has both Dad and me turning that way. He arches an eyebrow at me and I shrug my shoulders. Piper gets up from her place in front of the fireplace and trots down the hall, her tail wagging eagerly at the prospect of company.
"Probably Avery," I muse as I place the silver ball on the tree and brush the remaining cookie crumbs from my hands onto my jeans. "She probably just wants our cookies."
"I'll go put the rest on a plate and start a kettle for some tea," my dad says as he turns to the kitchen.
I saunter down the hallway, grinning as Piper's tail starts wagging even harder as I get closer. I give her a quick scratch on the butt and grab the door handle, twisting the knob and pulling it open.
And there stands what I think may be a mirage. Tall, piercing blue eyes, trimmed beard set over a gorgeously fantastic face.
Hawke.
I blink and my mouth parts, a soft gasp of surprise whispering out.
"Hey," he says
quietly, his eyebrows furrowed in what looks to be pain.
"What are you doing here?" I blurt out as Piper steps onto the porch. She shoves her muzzle into his crotch, tail wagging a hundred miles an hour. Hawke bends to gently push her head back and scratches it absently while his eyes never move from mine.
"We had games in Ottawa and Montreal. I made a quick jump over here to visit Oliver and his parents."
"Oh," I say, but not really understanding why that puts him on my front porch. I shove my hands in my pocket and drop my gaze, not a clue as to what to say.
My heart is beating fast, his proximity to me disconcerting. My brain whirls with possibility but refuses to believe even for a moment that he's here to tell me he's made a mistake. I know Hawke...once you shut the door on him, he doesn't knock back on it.
"Can I come in?" he asks, and my head snaps up.
"What?" I immediately ask, and then realize that's stupid. I back up and make room for him to pass. "Yes, sorry...of course, come in."
Hawke steps past me and I catch a whiff of subtle, spicy cologne and fresh cold air he drags in with him. I close the door and turn to find him walking into the living room, Piper trotting alongside full of puppy curiosity.
"Hawke?" my dad asks in surprise as he returns from the kitchen and sees him.
"Hey, Dave," Hawke says hesitantly, and I know he's wondering how my father feels about him...the man that broke his daughter's heart a second time.