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“Give it time,” Brienne says. “You have a good history together and once some space can get between him and the book, he’ll start to come around.”
“Maybe,” I hedge, but I’m not so sure. My confidence is at an all-time low.
Brienne’s gaze hardens. “Regardless, you are a member of this hockey family and I don’t care if Van doesn’t like it, you are welcome at any games and events.”
Laughing, I nod. “Okay… I’ll make sure he knows that, but I think I’ll pick and choose my battles.”
“I assume you’ll be here for the Cold Fury game at least.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t miss that for the world,” I assure her. My brothers are going to stay after the game rather than fly back with the team for a long-overdue Fournier get-together. “I’ll even be wearing a Titans jersey.”
“Van’s jersey,” she corrects. “Or you could wear your Titan Queens T-shirt.”
My face flushes. “Yeah… about that… it sort of got destroyed.”
Brienne’s eyebrows shoot high.
“I cut it up in a fit of rage during an argument with Van. I’m sorry.”
Chuckling, Brienne waves off my apology. “I’ll have Jenna get you another one, and if that one gets cut up, we’ll get you another. The point is, don’t give up.”
I manage a smile and stab a piece of chicken. I’ve been trying so hard, but I’m not gaining any ground. There will come a time when I’ll give up.
The rest of lunch is pleasant and I learn more about Brienne personally, including more details of her clandestine affair with Drake, which turned into a beautiful engagement. We only chat for about thirty minutes, then Brienne is rushing off to a meeting.
I poke my head into Jenna’s office to say hello, but it’s empty. I grab a notepad and pen, jotting her a quick message to call me so we can get together. Van might not want me here, but I’ve already joined an amazing community of women and I’m going to take advantage of my time with them.
On the way back to the house, I make mental notes of how my week will progress. Van comes home tonight and with two home games ahead of us, there will be opportunities to interact with him.
Presuming he comes home.
The man won’t sit down and have a rational conversation with me and everything devolves into a fight. I’ve fallen back on a tried-and-true method with Van, which is to provoke him into interaction with me, but that’s not been working out so far. Sure, he broke the other night, but I know my husband well. Part of that was his regret for hurting and shutting me out. He was trying to give me something, even though he made things all the more confusing.
As I coast to a stop at a red light, I become aware that I have no clue where I am. I’d been so mired in my thoughts that I must’ve missed a turn somewhere and I’m in a part of the North Shore area I don’t recognize.
“Shit,” I mutter, immediately reaching for my phone that’s connected to the navigation system. I flip to Google Maps and try to type in our address so I can get directions.
A car honks behind me and I see the light is green. I give a wave over my head in apology and hit the gas. As I drive, I try to type in the address with just my thumb. I also scan the neighborhood to see if I recognize any buildings.
I finally get the address in, hit Start on the directions and toss my phone on the passenger seat. I look up and see there’s a red light right above me and I’m already halfway through the intersection.
Movement from my left catches my eye and I turn to see a large truck bearing down on me. A man is driving, his eyes wide open in shock to see me in the middle of the intersection while he has the right of way. He slams on his brakes and horn and it’s all squealing tires until the front of his truck slams into my driver’s side door. There’s a horrific sound of tearing metal and my window explodes, raining chunks of tempered glass all around me. My car slides to the right a good ten feet and then both vehicles come to a rest, locked together.
My heart slams inside my chest and I’m dizzy from the shock of what just happened. I immediately do a systems check and realize I’m okay. Nothing hurts too terribly except for my left arm and hip, which took a blow from the door caving in, but definitely nothing broken.
Steam billows from the truck’s grill and since my window is gone, it’s wafting in front of my face. I’m able to get my seat belt off and then someone is opening my passenger door.
“Are you okay?” It’s the man who was driving the truck.
“Yeah… I think so.” I offer him a sincere apology. “I’m so very sorry. I was lost and wasn’t paying attention. Totally my fault.”
Luckily, the guy is more relieved I’m not dead than pissed and he helps me crawl over the console and out the passenger door. The police arrive quickly along with an ambulance. Statements are taken and insurance is exchanged. I’m issued a ticket and tow trucks come as neither vehicle is drivable.
An emergency medical technician checks me out and while my blood pressure is a little high and my arm is starting to throb, I don’t think I need to see a doctor and I tell him so.
“Are you sure?” he asks as he puts the blood pressure cuff away. “You took a pretty hard hit. You’re going to be far sorer tomorrow than you are today.”
“I can just take some ibuprofen or something…” My words trail off as I realize, I don’t know if I can take any pain medicine without harming the baby. I don’t know anything at all as I haven’t had my first obstetrics appointment because I’m bound and determined to have my husband at my side. “Actually… I’m pregnant. Maybe I should get checked out.”
