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“Hmmm,” she said on the very first day we met, her tone suggesting she was trying to figure me out since I’d been pretty standoffish. “I’m going to go with brooding. It’s a better fit for the hotness you exude.”
What the fuck was she even talking about?
“Hotness?” I was at a loss as to how to deal with a woman who said things I didn’t understand.
“Oh, come on.” She let her gaze roam brazenly up and down my body before smirking at me. “Just look at all you got going on. All big and muscley. And those deep, sensitive eyes filled with mystery. Total hotness and totally broody.”
I tried to pay her no mind. Ignored her, actually. And yet deep down, I knew that I was going to be in trouble where she was concerned.
Lucas jolts me out of my memories. “Going to kill you tonight,” he says in a low voice, and he’s not joking. The words are stone cold and laced with malice.
“Good thing we’re not on the same lines, then,” I mutter before turning away. No way am I going to fight her brother, especially not during an important game that has playoff-standing ramifications.
Lucas sneers. “On or off the ice, doesn’t matter when.”
“Whatever.” I skate away from my brother-in-law and join the line on the opposite side. I scan the crowd. I don’t know where she is, but there’s no doubt Simone is here watching. She wouldn’t miss a chance to see Lucas and Max play.
I don’t think she’d be here to see me, not after the way I left her last night. There was a finality to our encounter and I know that because she listened to me. Heard how I felt.
Chose not to contradict me, fight for me or attempt to offer hope.
I told her I was moving out and she let me. I packed a bag and when I walked out the door, Simone was nowhere to be seen. Presumably up in the guest room, going to sleep.
She let me go.
I know I’m supposed to be glad it’s over. Simone is free to get a new life. To have the happiness she deserves. It’s everything I’ve reached for since that book came out.
And yet… there’s not one part of me that has any relief from this overwhelming sensation of doom. If anything, I feel worse.
Simone told me I was making a mistake.
Did I?
“You good, man?” I glance over my shoulder and see Boone. “Saw you talking to Fournier.”
“Yeah, all good.” Boone knows I want a divorce from Simone, and everyone knows she’s the little sister to Max and Lucas Fournier.
Boone taps his stick against the side of my leg. “Got your back, anyway.”
I lift my chin, acknowledging the offer. Not the first time he’s told me that, and there’s not a doubt in my mind if Lucas somehow ends up on the ice at the same time as me and comes after me, my teammates will be right there. Hell, they all know about my troubles with Simone as word travels through the grapevine and most of them were privy to her attacking that fan at Mario’s. But I haven’t divulged details to any of them, nor do they know the reasons for us separating. It’s obvious the stress of Arco’s biography is a weight on me but no one really knows how that led to me leaving Simone.
I move along with the line, lost in my thoughts. I run a drill and when I’m finished, I search for Lucas on his side of the ice before choosing the next line. I’ll keep distance between us. I’d already hurt his sister once. Like many couples do, we had a make-or-break moment when it first hit the news that Arco was my father. Simone wanted to stand by my side, but our relationship was too fucking new and I was too unsure of myself to accept what she was so freely giving to me. I had no confidence in what we had.
A freelance reporter who recognized me that one time I visited Arco in prison wrote a sensationalized article revealing my true identity to the world, just as the Cold Fury were starting their championship run. The article was entitled “The Unknown Madness of Van Turner,” and it was the third-most horrific thing that had ever happened to me. The first, learning my dad was a serial killer, and the second, finding my mother’s body after she died by suicide.
Simone was in California with me for the game and she immediately kicked into caregiver mode. She knew about Arco and she was my stalwart champion. Except when she asked, “What are we going to do?” my response was to immediately push her away.
“We?” I scoffed. “Why is this a we thing? Last I heard, your dad was a prominent doctor, not a serial killer.” That didn’t anger her. I had her empathy and it made me feel even worse. “I need you to stay out of this. It’s hard enough to deal with the fallout of all this shit, but I don’t need to worry about you at the same time.”
Simone didn’t back down. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“You see, but I will. And fuck… it’s hard work just letting you in. I’m constantly judging my actions and trying to figure out if they measure up to what I think are acceptable standards for you. And while I’m worrying about that shit with you, I’ve now got to deal with the entire world knowing about my shame.”
Simone frowned. “Your shame?”
“Yes, my fucking shame,” I yelled at her. “Do you know how dirty and disgusting this shit makes me feel? I’m swept up into his sickness just by association. How many people are looking at me and wondering is he like his father?”
In hindsight, I’m sure it wasn’t what I thought, but at that moment, I thought she looked at me with pity and I couldn’t take it. I tried to leave… put space between us.
