Page 21 of Breaking the Ice

Took a really long shower. Ate a plate of leftovers without tasting anything, and then switched on the TV, picking another big, stupid movie full of explosions. But by the time the credits rolled, Gavin felt like he hadn’t really seen any of it.

Went to bed and even though he was tired after last night’s restless night, couldn’t find a comfortable position.

The next day, rinse and repeat.

Again and again and again.

He had things to do. Wood to chop for the winter. A handful of emails he should answer. Supplies and groceries to buy.

But even when he took care of everything on his list, including going into town and sitting at the diner, he felt restless. Itchy. Weird.

On the fifth day, he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were sunken, dark circles underneath them. Nothing had felt right since Zach had left.

It wasn’t Zach necessarily—though he couldn’t argue that itwasn’tZach, either—but it was like he’d exposed the complete uselessness of the life he’d built here.

What was he evendoing?

On the sixth day, he sent an email to Jon, and twenty minutes later, Gavin answered a call on his tablet.

“Hey,” his therapist said. “Long time no talk.”

It had been six months. At first, Gavin had felt guilty about not answering his emails about scheduling new appointments. But then he’d considered the alternative and even ghosting felt better than pushing himself into places he had no intention to go.

“Yeah, about that,” Gavin said, rubbing his neck and feeling shame wash over him.

“I get it. I pushed you. You got pissed. You hide when you don’t know how to deal with emotion.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, even though it was a well-documented fact by now.

He’d come all the way out here after Noelle had died, hadn’t he?

He’d called it re-prioritizing, but he could look back now and see it for what it was:hiding.

From people he hadn’t known how to talk to anymore and a world he hadn’t wanted to rejoin.

“Right,” Gavin said.

“So, what’s up? You said you were having trouble sleeping?”

That was the bare minimum. The least of the problems that he could confess to Jon to get him on a call.

“Yeah. About the last week.”

Jon looked non-accusatory. Heneverlooked angry or hurt or upset. Sometimes a flash of judgment crossed over his face, but it was always when Gavin deserved it.

He’d have deserved it now, but it was missing in action.

“Anything new?”

Gavin took a deep breath. He was going to talk about this. “Someone came to see me.”

“That happens, still?”

“Not like this,” Gavin confessed. “It was one of my old players, that I coached when I was at Portland U. One of my . . .well, we weren’t supposed to have favorites, but it happens, and he was one of mine. He’s working for the university now, as an assistant coach, and he wanted to offer me the head coaching job.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t pretend to shoot him?”

“No.” Gavin grimaced. He knew Jon had thought the way he’d built up his walls hadn’t been healthy.You can say no, and create firm boundaries without being so freaking dramatic,Gavin.