She pokes me lightly with the stick. “It tells you nothing.”
“You don’t know my life?” I shoot back, feigning offense. She cocks her head, and I square my shoulders, pretending confidence. “Maybe I studied psychology in college. Maybe I can read you like an open book.”
“Did you study psychology?” she asks, voice tinged with curiosity, leaning in slightly as she lines up her next shot.
“Nope. Business.” She chuckles softly, but there’s a trace of wistfulness in her smile. “And let’s just say my parents are in Nova Scotia, so it won’t be easy to ask them anything, like just how great of a kid I was, or if I was truly responsible for the fire in the garbage can that nearly burned down our shed.”
She laughs, “Oh, I have to know. What’s their phone number?” A moment later her smile dies. I tilt my head, sensing the shift inside her. “What?”
“I regret not going to college,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re going now,” I remind her, understanding her worries. “It’s never too late, Maria.”
She nods, eyes dropping to her glass of wine. Memories flicker behind her lashes. “I know. I understand that. But…back in the day, when I should have gone, when it would have been easier, life got in the way.”
I walk around the pool table, chalking my cue, feeling the quiet pause stretch between us. “Do you mind if I ask why you didn’t go to college?” I sink my ball with a satisfying clink, letting the sound fill the space.
She leans back into the sofa, wine glass cradled in her hand, and closes her eyes for a moment. “I met Lucian,” she says softly, voice tinged with nostalgia. Memories flicker across her expression like old film reels. “He was older. A fourth-year medical resident on his way to becoming a big city psychiatric doctor. Charming, smart…probably also a narcissist,” she adds, wincing. “But I didn’t learn that until later. He was making a name for himself, and was adored by everyone.”
“And you fell for him,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“I did. So did hundreds of other women.” She snorts out a humorless laugh and then under her breath murmurs. “I wonder how many other kids he has out there.” A sip of wine and then, “He even fooled my family. Mom and Dad were charmed. But they were worried I was too young, and they did encourage me to go to college. If only I’d listened. But I was a stubborn girl.”
There’s no judgment in my voice, just curiosity when I ask, “Just how young were you?”
She glances at me, gauging my reaction, before answering carefully. “I was just finishing high school.”
“You were young, enamored. It happens,” I say, letting the words fall gently.
Her gaze drops again, thoughtful. “I saw the way the girl at the pet store looked at you. You’re a hockey player. People flock to you the way they did to Lucian.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “She was too young for me, Maria.”
She laughs quietly, a little self-conscious, because yeah, she might have been too young for her ex too and a part of her now realizes that. But no judgement from me. We all make mistakes, myself included.
“Honestly, Tuck…I couldn’t believe a guy like Lucian would want a girl like me.”
I line up another shot, keeping my focus on the table but my thoughts on her. “What does a ‘girl like me’ mean? Any guy in his right mind would want you, Maria. Smart, beautiful, focused…determined.”
“Maybe now,” she murmurs. “Back then, I was just a young girl, fresh out of high school. A girl with dreams, until…”
I lower my cue, studying her. “What did young Maria want to do before she was swept off her feet?”
She smiles faintly, almost shyly. “I did a lot of tutoring in high school, and thought I’d like to get a degree in education. Maybe one day become a university professor.”
“I can see that,” I say, nodding.
“But don’t get me wrong,” she continues, eyes softening. “I don’t regret the choices I made. Those choices…they gave me my sons.”
I nod, letting her words settle between us. “How did you and your ex meet?”
Her smile brightens slightly, a little mischievous now. “Coffee shop. I spilled my latte…all over him. No, it was not on purpose.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “That was long before you became a professional server, I take it?”
“Exactly,” she says, chuckling. “Now I only spill on the table when serving a hot hockey player.”
I chuckle, then frown. “Wait, are you talking about me or Nicklas?” She just rolls her eyes, and I ask, “So, you and Lucian, love at first sight?”
