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I have an urge to give her a piece of my mind, but I bite it back down because that’s not going to help my little sister get her dream party.
“People rent the rink all the time for dinners, events, whatever. How do I do that?”
“What are you looking to do?” she asks curiously, probably assuming this is some grand gesture for Charlotte, but that is far from the truth.
“For my sister’s birthday. Ideally next Saturday since we don’t have a game here or away.”
She scoffs, “You think we have a Saturday booking available next weekend?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I’m getting the idea that it was a dumb question. “Yes?”
“Let me see what I can do. I think we have an event going on, but it might be earlier in the day. What time of day are you thinking?” she asks, typing into her phone.
“Whenever, honestly.”
“The event team is going to hate me, and I’ll owe them big time, which means you’ll owe me big time. But I’ll convince them to do a double-booked day and have the rink ready for you by seven p.m., if that works,” she offers with disdain, and I know she’s only doing this for Abby.
It’s not like I broke her friend’s fucking heart; she could lighten up a bit. Charlotte did this, not me.
“Perfect. Thanks,” I mumble and step back out of her office before the guard on my mouth crumbles and I speak freely.
“You’re welcome,” she hollers back at me.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I shoot my mom a quick text.
Me: I got the rink for next Saturday at seven p.m. Is that good?
She answers almost immediately.
Mom: Perfect. You’re the best! Abby is going to be so excited!
Me: Good. I can’t wait to see her face!
Mom: She made me promise to ask you this. I’m sorry…but she says she wants Charlotte there.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
8
Charlotte
There is nothing worse than being forced to work with the pro hockey player whose heart you just shattered. Well, there is one thing worse, I suppose—still being hopelessly in love with him while he absolutely hates you.
After pushing myself to go to work and take photos and videos of the team during morning skate and the home game, I thought maybe the side effects could be managed. That I could wear a mask and fool the world into thinking that I’m okay. But the fatigue and nausea are too much. On top of that, I don’t have the strength to be around Reed right now. I know he’s mad, and he has every right to be. But it doesn’t make it any easier for me to deal with.
His play has changed too. He’s harsher in every move he makes, angrier. The team and coaches seem happy with it, so at least that’s a positive thing from this whole mess. After powering through the game, which they won against the Vegas Venom, while I was fighting absolute depletion the entire time, I knew I couldn’t do it again. The treatments are only going to get harder and harder to recover from as they continue. I need to figure out how to keep Laura in the dark while also somehow doing my job so that no one asks questions that would raise suspicions that something’s wrong with me.
I do my best to stop thinking about all of the what-ifs and things that could go wrong.
Rain is beating down on my car as I fight to find the willpower to go inside the hospital for my chemo treatment. Harper texted me and said that Ella had her appointment changed so we would be going at the same time. So, at least, if I can’t do it for myself, I will do it for her. If she can be courageous enough, then, fuck it, I can too.
With feigned bravery, I throw my car door open and force myself to take the exhausting steps toward the front doors, each step seemingly heavier than the last. Ella’s smiling face appears in the entrance behind the front doors, and my pain seems to fade ever so slightly.
She is the most incredible little girl.
She throws the door open and races the two short steps to me, embracing me in a tight hug. Warmth spreads through me. I catch the door right before it’s about to slam into her.
She hugs me once more, and I wrap my arm around her, squeezing her gently back.
