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Her accusations ring true, and that irritation boils over. My stomach is in knots. I want to enjoy my night, my time off, my life. Is that so wrong?
“Em, I understand your concern. I do. I’m not rekindling anything with Jackson. We’re friends, that’s all.”
I try to sound confident, but I can’t deny the flicker of uncertainty in my voice. I know Jackson wants more, and he’ll do everything in his power to get what he wants. Emily knows that too.
“Jackson will never be friends. To him, you’re still together. And don’t expect him to change because you’re pregnant. If anything, he’ll become more controlling. It wouldn’t surprise me if he bought this penthouse to lure you back in.”
What if he did? For once, I have enough money to support myself and my family. It’d be difficult if I lost my modeling contracts, but I’d manage. I don’t need to depend on Emily, Jackson, or even Ethan. I can make my own decisionsandmistakes. I’ll do what is best for me and my child. I’m not rushing into things with Jackson, but if I ever needed to leave him, I can. I didn’t always have that option before.
Play resumes, and the camera focuses on Jackson in the penalty box. His nose and eyebrow are bloodied. The medical staff tends to his wounds, but his gaze is fixated on the ice and the ticking clock.
“I’ll let you watch the game.” Emily’s mumbling barely registers.
I nod, my attention on the screen as I wait for Jackson to make his next move. The atmosphere in the arena is utter chaos, and I’m filled with nervous excitement.
The penalty counter runs down, and he bursts from the box with fierce determination.
Grant passes the puck his way, and I hold my breath. In an unbelievable display of skill, Jackson maneuvers through the opposing defense, twisting, dodging, and spraying ice in front of the goalie. Adrenaline courses through my veins, matching the escalating roar of the crowd, and then, with a flick of his wrist, the puck soars into the net’s top-right corner.
“Holy shit!” I jump from the couch, my arms shooting up in celebration.
The camera zooms in, and Jackson raises his hands, forming the shape of a heart over his chest. His mouth is open, screaming “Fuck, yeah,” and his face is pure elation.
A rush of affection washes over me. I turn to Emily, unable to hide my grin. “Did you see that?”
But she’s not sitting next to me, nor is she in the room. Once again, I’m left alone to revel in my excitement.
Disappointment settles in my chest. I thought we’d work through this. I thought she’d support my decisions, even if she didn’t like them. I thought she’d be happy for me, happy to spend time somewhere beautiful, happy I’m moving forward with my life.
A twinge of sadness comes over me. If I decide to share a future with Jackson, I’ll lose Emily. What about Ethan? The fear of her reaction and judgment is why I couldn’t confide in her about him.
Either way, I’m moving out. I’m moving on.
Perhaps this widening gap between us reflects the shifting tides in my life. If confiding in someone makes you fearful, what type of friendship do you have? This whole time, I thought Jackson’s reaction was the one I needed to be afraid of. I’m not so sure anymore.
TWENTY-THREE
JACKSON
“You’re a fucking idiot.You know that? And so we’re clear,that’sa rhetorical question.” Ethan is spitting mad, furious I was nearly ejected from the game.
“Yes, Coach.” My sincere tone cuts through the hushed locker room, all attention on us.
If it was any other time, I’d have responded, “Calm down, Coach. Don’t blow that bulging vein in your forehead. I won the game, didn’t I?” I’d have escalated things and got in his face for calling me an idiot.
But for once, I don’t want to argue.
“I heard what he said. I would’ve done the same,” Killian says in my defense.
I lift my chin in acknowledgment. “Thanks, Kill.”
My right hand throbs with pain, and I struggle to unlace my skates. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, I fear I’ve broken something. It wouldn’t be my first “boxer’s fracture.” That happened by punching a wall after Aurora politely smiled at a flirtatious guy.Thatwas me being an idiot. This time, I’m directing my aggression where it belongs.
Ethan throws his arms up. “Do you want to explain what almost cost us the game?” He scans the room. “And someone get him a fucking x-ray!”
I loosen my ties, deliberating on what to share. The locker room remains silent, and I realize every player will eventually find out. You can’t hide anything from this team.
Lifting my head, I glare at Ethan. Just because I’m calm doesn’t mean I won’t lose my temper if he mocks me about Aurora. “He said he’dpile-drive my baby mama like he did that goal.” I take a slow, deep breath to quell my agitation. “He questioned if the child is mine, claiming every player in the league hascome on her titsor some fucking shit.”