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My father doesn’t truly understand everything that I felt during that time—loneliness, isolation… a pariah around certain social circles. But Win does.
From: SkatrGirlPen
To:WinTheDay067
Win,
I’m not sure how to start this email because the truth is… I have so many unanswered questions. Where did you go? Where have you been? Why didn’t you email me if you said you wanted to?
But as your email already stated, you don’t have any intention of sharing your reasoning, and so my questions are likely to remain unanswered.
I guess I can only hope that wherever life took you that left you unable or unwilling to continue corresponding with me, you were safe and unharmed.
There is one question, however, that I would like to know. When we were emailing back and forth in college, did you have a girlfriend?
I send off the email, not feeling confident about my response. I don’t want to scare him away, but I also need to stand up for myself. I didn’t with Slade all those years ago, and if watching Autumn, Tessa, and Isla stand up to get what they want from life hasn’t inspired me, then nothing will.
If Win wants to fix what he broke, he needs to work to get back in my good graces.
I’m not asking for a full-out explanation since it doesn’t look like I’m going to get it, but a little groveling for my forgiveness would probably fit the bill.
I push my cell phone back into my duffel bag and leave it in the locker room before heading out through the player's tunnel and toward the ice.
After inhaling the cold air of the rink, something comes over me and I end up skating my best performance to date. Maybe my best skate in years is because I’m finally getting the confirmation that I’ve questioned for so many years.
Does WinTheDay067 ever still think about me? And now I know… he does.
Slade
I stand in line for Penelope’s dirty chai at Serendipity’s Coffee Shop after getting home barely four hours ago. I couldn’t sleep any longer when I knew she’d be in the stadium skating. It’s been three days since the last time I saw her, and I’ve spent every one of those days watching the old routine I finally found of her and her skating partner's Olympic skating routine. After watching it so many times over my phone, I want to see it in person to make sure she hasn’t tweaked it all these years later.
My phone dings with an incoming message. I pull my phone out to find an email response to the one I sent this morning to SkatrGirlPen.
That was fast, but I’m not complaining.
I’m surprised by her email. She does deserve an explanation, but I can’t give her the truth without giving myself away as also being Slade Matthews. The same guy she was venting about all those years ago to someone she trusted via email.
If she finds out that I’ve been lying to her and that Win and I are the same person, she’ll never forgive me, and I’ll lose her forever.
Her last question, at the end of the email, throws me off. Did I have a girlfriend while she was tutoring me?
The obvious answer is no.
I’ve never had one nor have I ever wanted one.
Not until I met Pen.
Before her, I never wanted to be tied down to anyone. If my own parent's affections were based on merit alone, how could I expect more from a stranger?
Maybe that’s in part because we moved around a lot when I was a kid. I didn’t stay in the same school or the same state for that long. My father was always chasing the next big promotion, and as the leading cardiovascular surgeon in the country, he had his pick of hospitals that all wanted him.
It didn’t matter that my mother’s trust fund is more than enough to live a wealthy lifestyle. At nearly a hundred-million-dollar trust fund, my mother has never had to work a day in her life. My grandfather made sure that neither she nor my aunt or uncle had ever wanted anything.
My trust fund is half the value of my mother’s and more money than I’ll ever need, especially with my newer modest lifestyle requirements that make me happier than I ever was spending money with strings.
I’ve provided just fine for myself since my parents financially cut me off after I took the Hawkeyes farm team contract after college. Now with the biggest contract ever awarded to a player coming out of a farm team in NHL history, I still won’t need my trust fund.
That money can rot in a bank account somewhere for all I care. All it ever brought me were requirements and expectations tied to my parents and used as a way to control me all my life.
