You were not at the hockey camp. Where are you?
Lauren what is happening?
Your office said you went home sick. Yesterday! Why are you not responding?
LAUREN ARE YOU OKAY?
I AM COMING OVER!
I AM OUTSIDE. THIS IS SERIOUS!
JASON AND I ARE ON OUR WAY TO YOUR HOUSE WITH YOUR SPARE KEY.
WE ARE COMING IN!
“You seemed worried.”
“Of course I was worried. It is my job to care for you, in sickness and in health. Now you must rest.” He leaned over and brushed his lips over my forehead—such a sweet gesture—then picked up the tray. “Drink your water. I will check on you later, but I had better not see you reading under the covers.”
I laughed. “My mom used to say that.”
“So did mine.”
He closed the door quietly, leaving me to think about his mom. Her death just before he joined us at the University of Michigan had obviously affected him greatly, more than I realized at the time. He hadn’t owed me any explanation, but perhaps I should have been more understanding of his grief.
Or perhaps I wanted to think his rejection wasn’t a me-problem but was something I could attribute to an external force. Such foolish thinking. And why was I so concerned with what happened in the past, anyway? As someone wiser than me once said, it was a foreign country, and they do things differently there.
I sent messages to Esme, Summer, Franky, and Jason, assuring them I was under the weather but on the mend.
I didn’t send a message to Thad.
Then I drank some water and closed my eyes.
Chapter Thirty
Alexei
* * *
The moment I heard from Arkady that Lauren had missed their call, I knew something was wrong. This woman was a complete professional and would never stand up a client. When I exhausted the usual avenues—visiting her office to make stern demands of her uncooperative co-workers and texting her in quick succession—I reached out to Jason. I did not want to alarm her sister or anyone outside the circle of trust about our marriage, so this was the best option available.
Torn between wishing to protect his friend’s privacy and a desire to ensure Lauren’s safety, he agreed to go to her house with me. Thank God he did. Finding her sick and alone had infuriated me, but I was here now.
While she slept, I wandered around her house. Much of it was in a state of disrepair, the walls in need of painting, renovations started in one area, unfinished in another. The living room contained so many things that signified her comfort with herself and the world around her. Trophies, photos, pucks, souvenirs from an amazing career. Then there were the personal photos, with her family and friends.
I was shocked to see one of me, in a collage framed on the wall, taken on the best night of my life, and not because we won the NCAA championship.
In the photo, a tipsy Jason had his arm around Lauren, and I stood on her other side. Not touching, but my head was slightly turned, as was hers. Keeping our hands off each other had become a game, one we were determined to lose. Earlier that evening, Lauren and I had finally connected in a way I would always remember, a week before I rejected her in a way I would rather forget. I was good at creating memories. Not so good at burying them.
Now it felt like I had so much more at stake. Grave responsibilities. Life-changing decisions. Winning what once was lost.
The sound of a key in the front door lock put me on alert. Had her no-good boyfriend decided to finally show his face?
It would seem not. Gunnar Bond entered with his wife, Sadie, Lauren’s sister. I recalled now that I had asked Jason to text them because I needed their help.
“Where is she?” Sadie asked. She did not look like Lauren, with her reddish-blonde hair and curvaceous figure. “Is she okay?”
“She is fine. She is resting upstairs.”
