Page 76 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)
Bella
THREE MONTHS LATER
A tear rolls down my cheek as my hands, linked with Grayson’s, push down the soil.
The willow tree is small for now but as its life goes on and it grows, it’s going to bloom tall and strong, with the help of some of Drew’s and my mom’s ashes.
Four months ago, I was so consumed with grief I didn’t even realize that the coffin at my mom’s funeral was empty. That her wish was to have a spot for me to visit when she passes. She wanted her ashes to remain with me so I had a piece of her wherever I went.
When Grayson suggested planting the tree to honor Drew and my mom, the idea felt so right I was instantly on board, both of us searching for the tree that felt right .
Now we don’t have to go and visit them in a graveyard. They’re right here, in our home, watching over us from afar, and nothing has ever felt more perfect.
I still haven’t been able to go back to my mom’s house, for the same reason Grayson still hasn’t stepped foot in his childhood home.
The memories are haunting.
I hope one day I can, though. That I can go inside and smile at the happy memories.
But that day isn’t today.
Grayson’s shoulders are tight as his eyes fill with silver. “I think they both would have loved this,” he whispers.
Kneeling in the dirt, Bambi lying beside us, I move into Grayson’s outstretched arms, his warmth filling me. “I think they would have too.”
I’d be lying if I said the last three months were okay. That they weren’t still filled with nights where I wake up crying or days where I don’t feel like a zombie. But Grayson has been there for all of them, and I have been there on the days when the emotions become too much for him to bear.
We have healed each other in ways that words can’t describe. Our souls feel joined in a way that can never be separated, and I never want them to.
I owe Grayson a lot because despite my mom’s words about me being strong, I don’t think I could have pulled myself out of the void of grief without Grayson, and I know he feels the same about me. He attests his life turning around to me, but I don’t think I can take full credit.
Grayson through it all has remained sober, a fact of which I am beyond proud. I tear up when I think about how much work he’s put into himself. There’s still progress to be made, but he can take his time and not push himself on the small things.
And if he can’t ever face those things, that’s okay too.
Because grief changes who you are at your core, and this version of Grayson is perfect as he is.
And thank goodness the higher ups in IceHawks saw that this new version of Grayson is just as powerful as the one before Drew’s passing. Grayson tells me the executives are all extremely happy with their decision and apparently boasting about it after he led his team to win the Stanley Cup.
Grayson swears up and down that our PR relationship was the best thing Lucy ever did for him and I can’t help but agree because who would have thought signing a hefty NDA and being paid to pretend date an NHL hockey player would lead me to the love of my life?
He turns his head to the side and plants a kiss against my head. Closing my eyes, I savor his touch, his arm around me and the feel of his lips lingering against my skin. It sparks a painting behind my eyes, one that I itch to let out.
That’s the other thing I need to thank Grayson for.
His endless patience and persistence with trying to get me to create art again.
If it weren’t for him and his gentle probing, I wouldn’t have sold over twelve paintings this last month and be in the beginning stages of opening my own gallery.
Grayson posted a photo on his social media that he took of the day I started drawing again all those months ago and it went viral. Mostly because of the jealous puck bunnies, but there was a large group of people demanding I sell my work too.
It was the courage I needed, to hear that others found joy from something I created.
And planting this tree is a huge step—for both of us.
“Do you ever feel her?” he asks. “Your mom?”
I lift my eyes to find him staring down at me, those patient blue eyes mesmerizing. “Sometimes. I feel her the most when I paint or draw.”
His lip quirks. “I don’t feel Drew…ever. Except for when I’m out here.” I’m surprised as he starts to laugh. “I have to be honest, Blaze, all I can picture is him giving me shit for putting some of him in a tree.”
I’m silent a moment before a small quiet chuckle leaves me, and then it turns into a full-blown laugh. Once the laughter dies down, we sit there, gazing up at our loved ones’ tree.
We’re quiet for a long time, the sky turning a golden hue as the sun sets behind the mountains.
“Why do you call me Blaze?” I ask suddenly.
“Took you long enough to ask.”
I nudge his shoulder with mine. “I thought you’d tell me eventually.”
“I thought it was obvious,” he says with a shrug .
“Humor me.”
He pulls his eyes away from the sunset to look down at me. His hand reaches up to place a piece of my hair behind my ear before sliding down my cheek ever so delicately. “Because you’re the blazing fire that rekindled life within my heart, and I never want your flame to be extinguished.”