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Cinderella
I left you a shoe. Let’s see if you can find me.
Sure enough, her shoe sits on the floor next to my food.
What the hell did I just do?
CROSS
“What took so long?” Ares bitches from where he’s lying on the couch when I walk into my house. He kills the last of whatever he’s shooting on his video game before popping up. “I’m starving.”
I drop the West End bag down on the table and ignore my younger brother, not in the mood for his bullshit. Not when my thoughts keep going back to my sun-kissed Cinderella.
Find me . . .
Damn.
“You survived, didn’t you?” I grab a beer from the fridge and watch Ares beeline to the food like a feral fucking dog that hasn’t eaten in a month. “You know you don’t have to bulkthatmuch over the summer, right?” I rib him.
He eats more than any player I know. He always has. Ares moved in a few months ago, after he was traded to the Philadelphia Revolution mid-season last year. I always hoped he and I would get to play hockey together again but didn’t realize that would mean living with him again too. I mean, I moved out when I started playing in the juniors at eighteen. It’s been well over a decade since we’ve lived under the same roof. At least now we don’t share a room.
“Fuck off, asshole. You don’t want me wasting away when I’m kicking someone’s ass for you on the ice, do ya?” he mocks and sorts through the food.
“Whatever. Where’s Bellamy?”
The only way Mom and Dad would let our sister go to college away from them was if she was near one of us. She picked me and chose Kroydon University. Smart kid.
She just finished her first year studying to be an RN. She spent a lot of time in hospitals in high school. Pretty sure that influenced her career.
It definitely fucked with everyone around her, me included.
When you come so close to losing someone you love at such a young age, it puts things in perspective.Quickly.
Bellamy’s a handful with a heart of gold, and she’s got Ares and me wrapped around her little finger. Always has.
“Dude...” He pulls all the food out and looks at me. “This shit’s cold.”
“Fuck off.” I smile. “I drove and paid for it. Next time, get it yourself.”
Guess my good mood from earlier soured during the drive home.
I blame the shoe.
That stupid, goddamned shoe.
I don’t play games. I haven’t in a really long time. The fact I’m considering it for this girl blows my mind. My ex was the one who liked to play games. She did it often... too often.
Enough for the both of us, no matter how much she knew I hated it.
Helene and I hooked up after a hockey game a few years ago. One weekend turned into two. Two weekends turned into a month, and before we hit two months, she was pregnant with my daughter, Kerrigan. I tried to do the right thing but couldn’tbring myself to marry her. Not when I knew I didn’t love her. Not then. Not yet. Turned out, not ever.
We moved in together and tried to make it work for Kerrigan’s sake, but pretty fucking quickly, it was easy to see she wasn’t made to be a mother. Helene was more interested in being the wife of a professional athlete and living the lifestyle that goes with it, more than she was in our daughter. She pushed for a ring. For a wedding. For a title. She never actually pushed for the marriage or the relationship.
I love Kerrigan with all my heart, and Helene gave me her, so I tried to make it work for my baby girl, which was more than she ever did. Everything else took priority over our family.
She was supposed to be on the pill when she got pregnant with our son, Jaxon, nearly two years after Kerrigan was born. I think she thought I’d have no choice but to marry her then. When it became obvious it wasn’t going to work, instead of trying to figure it out, Helene threw a fit and left. A lawyer reached out to me a few weeks later and offered me full custody of the kids if I gave her a settlement like she’d get in a divorce. I jumped at the chance. She signed away all legal rights, and I haven’t looked back.
That was months ago, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.
