“No, we don’t need to talk, because there’s nothing to say. I have nothing to tell you.” Nothing he could say that could make her stay.
She grabbed her coat and her bag and went to the door. She turned to look at him, memorizing his face, knowing how much she was going to miss him. “Bye, Trick.”
“Shit. I’m not coming after you. If you walk out, we’re done.”
“That’s fine.”
He stood in the living room, just staring at her, so many emotions on his face it took everything in her not to run to him and throw her arms around him.
But that would make her weak, and she wasn’t weak. She had herself to think of, because he sure as hell hadn’t.
She willed the tears back as she opened the door and walked out.
She’d never hurt so much in her life as she took the elevator downstairs and hailed a taxi outside. Fortunately, one came by quickly, because she was afraid Trick would run after her, despite what he’d said.
He hadn’t. Of course he hadn’t, because now he was free to move wherever he wanted to without having to deal with her.
This was better for both of them.
Definitely better for her.
She’d broken her golden rule of never getting involved, and it had cost her.
Because now her heart was broken, so much worse than the first time. The first time she’d been young and naïve. This time she’d gone into it with her eyes wide open—a woman, not a young girl. Trick was a man she could have spent forever with.
She should have known better, and now instead of loving him forever, she was going to hurt forever.
Chapter Thirteen
It had been a lousy week. They’d won one game and lost two shitty fucking games. Even the game where they’d managed to squeak by with a win, they’d played badly. Trick had played badly. And he had no one to blame but himself. Hell, the whole team had played like a bunch of amateurs the past few games. They’d been an embarrassment, and the only good thing—if there was a good thing—was they had been road games, so at least they hadn’t sucked in front of the home fans.
At least now he was home. He sat in his apartment licking his wounds—in more ways than one.
He figured throwing himself into the games, into hockey, would be a way to get over Stella. That sure as hell hadn’t worked out so well.
Now he sipped a beer in his apartment and stared at the stupid Christmas tree which only reminded him of Stella. He should dismantle the damn thing and toss it in the Dumpster, because he sure as hell wasn’t in the holiday spirit.
Except, for some twisted reason, the dancing angel on top gave him some sort of comfort.
“Aren’t you a sorry, pathetic loser?” he said to himself as he stared at the angel twirling around the tree, listened to the music, then took another large guzzle of his beer.
He didn’t understand it, didn’t understand Stella. Why had she been in love with him that night and then made a complete turnaround the next morning?
He’d tried to call her and text her after she’d left, after he’d gotten over the shock of her abrupt announcement that they were over. She wouldn’t answer, and after a few tries he’d decided he wasn’t going to chase after a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that kind of guy. If she didn’t want him, then fine. He’d move on.
Except he loved her. And moving on wasn’t working out so well.
He just needed more time. He’d be fine. Eventually he’d stop thinking about her, stop missing her, stop smelling her everywhere, like on his pillow.
“Fuck.” He got up and tossed the beer bottle into the recycle bin and grabbed another.
His phone rang. It was Carolina. “Hey, Carolina. What’s up?”
“Trick? I don’t normally interfere, but this is about Stella. She’d kill me if she knew I called you, but I know the two of you broke up.”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“I don’t think she told you why.”
“She said she changed her mind.”
“Of course she did. But that’s not the real reason. She’s not talking to me about it, and that’s unusual for her, because she and I share everything.”
This wasn’t helping. Obviously, Stella didn’t feel it for him, which didn’t make him feel any better.
“Look, Trick, I’m trying not to betray a confidence here, but I think what the two of you have is special, so I’m going to tell you something I probably shouldn’t. She had a bad breakup in her past.”