I go still.
I didn’t connect those dots. But now that she’s said it, my brain starts moving in another direction.
Everything I’ve wanted to do.
It could be part of this …
A life-changing part.
“That’s not why I’d do it though,” I say quickly.
Alie holds up her hands. “I didn’t say it was the reason to do it.”
“But I mean it.”
“I know.”
I look away.
“Maybe …” I pause. “Maybe it wouldn’t be bad if it was part of the equation, but just not the whole reason.”
Alie picks up her cup and takes a sip while assessing me.
“It’s a lot to think about,” she says.
I let out a breath. “Yeah.”
She squints. “What else would hold you back?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I can’t imagine not being in his life,” I say. “I just can’t.”
“Right.”
“But this is a little bigger”—I pause—“than anything we’ve ever done.”
“True.”
“And what if it goes wrong?” I add. “What if it backfires and he still doesn’t get them?”
Alie’s expression softens. “And you’re afraid you’ll lose him.”
“Yes,” I say immediately. Because that is it. The fear lying under everything else. “I can’t lose him, Alie. I wouldn’t survive it.”
She’s quiet for a second. “Then you need to follow your heart.”
I roll my eyes. “Obvious answer, but also not helpful.”
“And your gut,” she adds.
“Really, Alie?”
She bumps my shoulder with hers. “You know what I mean.”
And I did. I’m just not sure I can admit it to myself yet.
The hockey game is loud and absolutely as chaotic as I thought it would be with seven-year-olds sliding around on the ice. Surprisingly, these kids are incredibly competitive.
I love seeing Saint locked in on the game. The way he’s watching Remy. The way he’s cheering. But more than anything … it’s simply his presence. And that’s what matters the most to Remy.
