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“I’m not sure. I couldn’t get that out of him either. But did he ever tell you why Amelia turned him down, and why he’s never had a serious relationship stick since high school?”
I rack my brain for what he told me when he mentioned their break up. Something in my gut tells me I screwed up… somewhere… somehow.
“He told me she turned him down because she didn’t want to live in Canada.”
“Yep. She refused to move if their fiancée visa got denied and he got deported anyway.”
“But what does she have to do with me?”
“Have you two ever had the conversation about moving to Canada?” she asks, her eyebrow lifting, hoping that my answer is the missing puzzle piece she’s been trying to find.
Then the sleepy, barely coherent conversation we had the last night he was in Seattle hits me.
“Oh God, I think I might be sick,” I say, my gut twisting in my belly.
My arm grips around my stomach as I actually feel physically unwell.
“I told him I couldn’t leave my brother and my mom. They needed me at the time. I told him that we could talk about it again after he retired.”
But if he had told me he was getting deported, I would have found a way to make it all work. Vancouver is less than an hour’s flight and only a three-hour drive plus border control. I could have found a way to do it all… I think.
He didn’t even ask.
“I’m going out on a limb here and saying that he didn’t want to make you choose between your family and him. So he took himself out of the equation. Whether he did that so he wouldn’t get rejected yet again, or because he knew your family needed you more… I don’t know. But I know he still loves you.”
“How do you know he still loves me?” I ask, hoping she has a really good solid reason because I believed her last time.
“He hasn’t taken his ring off since he got home.”
My whole body seems to spark back to life and the twisting in my gut turns to butterflies. How is that possible?
“What do I do now?” I ask her, because I truly need someone to direct me. My brain is short circuiting with all this new information that I can’t seem to process fast enough.
“If it were me…” She looks at me and I nod, asking her to continue. “I’d get in my car straight from here, knock on his door and demand answers.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ryker
Practice today was good. I like the way the Vikings are starting to look with the few tweaks that me and the assistant coaches are making with the team.
It’s dark out when I leave my office and head for my truck. I spend as much time here as I can because I don’t like being at home. It doesn’t offer me the distraction of the Vikings stadium to occupy my thoughts. And if my thoughts aren’t running through plays and tactics to try to win our next game, they end up on a highlight reel of Juliet and every moment we spent together.
I pull into the garage of my house and head inside, debating whether to make something to eat or just head to bed.
It’s after nine o'clock, so I could go either way at this point since I’ve come home to an empty house. At least on away games, I get to stay in a hotel where I don’t have memories of taking off her ex-boyfriend’s shirt and exchanging it with mine, or lying next to her while she slept.
I can’t even walk into the bar I took her to that night because my mind races to her being in a bar in Seattle at the same time without her wedding ring on. The thought of her going home with anyone besides me boils my blood and has me thinking about calling her and begging her not to see anyone else. But that’s the biggest dickhead move I could make, and at this point, I don’t think she’d take my call, anyway.
Not since I abandoned her and canceled my phone service. I couldn’t risk her calling my phone because I wouldn’t have been able to not answer. And if I answered, eventually I would have broken down and asked her to move to Canada for me. But asking her to move would be the most selfish thing I could do, because I believe she would have if I asked. She would have done it for me… not for her.
She told me the night before I left what mattered to her, and I’d never let her give that up just to be with me.
I make the decision to opt for bed. I’m still training with the team like I did as a player for the Hawkeyes so I should refuel with carbohydrates and protein, but I ate a late lunch and I’m too damn tired to care tonight.
I head for the staircase when I hear a knock on my door. It’s late for anyone to be here and the usual late-night guest, Harper, who’s been coming around and hounding me with questions, is in Seatle… where I should be.
I hear the knock again.
