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I grin, waggle my brows. “I think you like the size of my stash.”
She giggles, but I don’t push us onto another conversation, don’t use light and breezy to keep her out.
Not again.
Noteveragain.
“I never wanted to be a hockey player,” I admit.
A gasp that disturbs Steve, if his groan is any indication. “Really?” she asks.
I nod. “I mean, I love the sport, love what I do, and I’m fucking thankful that I’m able to do it for my job, I just…” I sigh and sit up, bringing the camera with me, shoving a hand through my hair, bracing myself as I admit, “For a long time, I loved it because it was my only escape. My mom didn’t like coming to the rink, and if she did, she couldn’t get to me. I could hide out in the locker room or the gym or on the ice, could leave her bullshit behind.”
“Did your dad—” She breaks off with a shake of her head.
“He didn’t come to my games.”
“At all?”
“No,” I say gently. “He basically abandoned my siblings and me. Yeah, he lived at home, paid the bills, but he wasn’t there, and he sure as fuck didn’t intervene on our behalf with my mom. He just let me and my siblings take care of her.” I shake my head. “I know it’s nothing like what you went through, butterfly.”
“Don’t,” she whispers.
I focus on her through the screen on my phone.
“Don’t discount your pain,” she whispers.
My lungs loosen, air I didn’t know I was holding inside sliding out on an exhale.
Her next question is soft. “Where are your siblings?”
“My brother is married and moved to Canada,” I tell her. “My sister lives in Arizona.”
“And your parents?”
“Connecticut.”
She presses her lips together, releases them. “So, you’ve all gotten as far as possible away from them.”
I take another breath, let it out. “Them by choice. Me by chance.”
“Are you guys close?”
“No.” I exhale, rub at my chest again. “I think…well, I think it’s better that we’ve all gone our own way.”
“And are they still together?”
“My parents?”
She nods.
“Yup,” I say, rolling my eyes. “For God knows what reason, since they hardly ever spend time together.” I huff out a laugh that’s nowhere close to amused. “My dad works more than ever, so my mom tries to find ways to fill her days—and that’s usually by creating chaos and drama, and spending money. I love her despite all of her shit, but swear to fuck, what I wouldn’tgivefor her to find a charity or something that would dominate her life. Instead, it’s all about shopping and filling the house with shit and redoing the rooms over and over again, and then, when she remembers me, it’s about driving me fucking insane for short bursts of time before she forgets and goes back to her life.”
“And your dad?”
I sigh, unable to hold her eyes through the camera. “Same shit, different day. He doesn’t come to my games, missed my brother’s wedding, never met my nephews.”
“Asshole.”
