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Thirty-Seven
Stefan
I know letting her walk away is the biggest mistake I can make.
Or the second biggest considering the rest of my fucking idiocy in keeping up with this sham.
But…she’s asked for time.
And how can I deny her that?
Dan must have the same thought because he stays in place too as Brit turns and all but runs away. I listen to the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, across the kitchen, the slam of the door out to the garage shutting behind her. The rumble of the wide metal door opening and her car’s engine starting up.
A rumble that fades as she drives away.
Fuck.
I thrust my hand through my hair, clenching at the strands, wanting to rip them from my scalp.
I just let her go.
Again.
Dan sighs, shakes his head. “I’ll give her some time to cool down and go after her.”
“No,” I mutter. “I’ll go after her.”
Brit’s brother turns and shakes his head. “Haven’t you done enough?”
I grit my teeth. “I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“What did you expect?” he snaps, tossing up his hands. “How the fuck did you expect her to react when she found out you kept something this big from her?”
“I promised,” I say. “I promised I’d never get between her and her career. What do you think she would do the moment she found out I have cancer? She’d be here. Not with the team. Not on the ice. And she doesn’t have all that much time left to play and?—”
Dan is suddenly in my face, hand gripping the collar of my shirt, big body shaking with fury. “Do you think she would honestly choose hockey over the man she loves?”
I drop my hand on top of his. “No.” I peel his fingers back, release my shirt from his grip. “I know she’d pick me,” I say. “And that’s why I couldn’t let her.”
His eyes blaze with fury.
Fury that fades as he slowly drops his hand to his side. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” I agree. “But I’m an idiot who loves your sister enough to do whatever I can to protect her. I’ll make it up to her. I swear I will.”
When I’m better and she finishes out her career, she’ll see.
She’ll understand.
I’m giving her a gift.
“Maybe,” he says, turning and heading for the guest room, “but have you considered how much that protection has hurt her?”
I open my mouth to reply, but he doesn’t give me a chance.
The door to the spare bedroom clicks closed.
And I stand there for a good long while, waiting for something, anything to happen—Brit to come home, Rox to wake up, Dan to emerge from the guest room telling me that he’ll help me figure out how to make this right.
