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That’s not to say I haven’t dated or had sex since giving birth to Sadie. I’m relatively active on a few apps, and I’m not above the occasional one-night stand. The man I was in love with may have broken my heart and left me pregnant, but I sure as hell haven’t been silently pining after him all these years.
I even tried a boyfriend for a short period of time. It only lasted a few months; he’s a nice guy and another hockey player. It was casual since he played for Vancouver’s farm team just across the Canadian border. Eventually, Tyson was called up to play for the league, and I ended things before my life could repeat itself. No more seriously dating NHL players for me.
Maybe when Sadie is older, when she’s more self-sufficient, I could try going for a serious relationship. Maybe. It’s not my priority anyway. She is, then family, then career. A man ranks damn low on my list right now.
Especially with Cillian coming back to town.
“Do we know when he’ll be here,” I ask.
“He’s flying in for the announcement. He’ll be here on Tuesday,” Dad says.
Fuck.
“Are they drafting anyone else I know?”
“We both know I can’t tell you that. I’m already risking my contract, but this was information you needed to have.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I’d risk it all for my girls.”
Someday, I hope Sadie and I find someone who feels the same.
* * *
“Fuck. That. Man.” Kit tries hard to enunciate each word with a sense of righteous indignation, but we’re all drunk so it isn’t working out too well.
“I did. A whole bunch of times.” I sigh before taking another shot of vodka.
“Did he look as good back then as he does now?” She rolls over onto her stomach, propping her chin so she can see me better.
“That question is a girl code foul,” Willa shouts from the kitchen where she’s scrounging for junk food.
“I know,” Kit yells back. “But for real, did he?”
“No, the stupid asshole has only gotten better looking. While I gained baby weight and stretch marks, he’s probably in the best shape of his life—Ouch!” A Tootsie Roll hits me in the head. Willa stands at the edge of the room, pissed off.
“Shut the fuck up, Isla. You grew a whole-ass human and still look beautiful.”
“You make it sound like I planted her in a plot of dirt. Or am I the dirt in this scenario?”
“He’s the dirt, you’re the sun,” Kit says.
“You’re drunk.” I laugh. “Where the fuck did you find a Tootsie Roll?”
“There was a half empty bag of candy in the back of the pantry, must be left over from Halloween.” Willa shrugs, dropping the candy stash on the floor between us.
“Are there mint patties?” I dig through it, looking for the telltale silver wrapping.
“Gross,” Willa groans.
“Your face is gross,” I tease, and we laugh.
“Who’s this?” Kit holds her phone so close to my face, I have to adjust my eyes to focus on the picture. “She’s the only woman in multiple pictures.”
“That’s Trina.” The blonde woman brings on a wave of nausea from memories of my past fragile mental state mixed with the booze.
“The one he cheated with?”
