Page 114 of Heartbreak Hockey

“And then you left me.”

“Not because of that. Because of Rhett.”

“Doesn’t help, Jack.”

“Well, it’s kinda unfair to be mad at me for this. You should be mad at your dad.”

“I am mad at him.” I take another breath—where did all the air in this condo go?—and try to calm down. He’s right. This isn’t his fault and yet … “Maybe I need some assurance, okay? Is that wrong? Am I never allowed that?”

He tilts his head. Thinks. Settles down. “Oh, babe. C’mere.”

I can’t remember the last time I went to someone for soothing. I don’t know how to do it, but I know how to latch onto him. Scooping my arms upward and underneath his armpits, I meld him to me. I lost mom. I lost all the other moms that have come into our lives. I know that once the baby’s born, Sandy will be gone too. I’ve dealt with that because I’ve had to.

If Jack leaves, I guess I’ll have no choice but to deal with that, but I won’t ever be the same.

Squeezing him tighter seems like the best way to keep him here forever.

“Merc? Not going anywhere, can you let me breathe a little—” I squeeze him tighter still. “Okay, nope. Not yet. I can take it. It’s just like getting the wind knocked outta me by an errant puck, better than even. No big deal.”

The tears come and I can’t stop them.Please don’t fucking leave me, Jack.

“We’re not breaking up just because you haveanotherkid now. I know words mean shit at this moment, but you’ll see.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding into his shoulder. “That’ll have to be enough for now.” I stop squeezing the life out of him and he takes a long inhale.

“Come over here.” He drags me to the couch, and we sink into it together, curling up. I’m stunned and it’s nothing to do with taking on another Meyer. Jack’s right. I knew responsibility for this babe would fall to me somehow. The giving up part’s the part that’s sent my brain spiraling. Baby Meyer will never know the feeling of being left. I’ll make sure of it. Doesn’t stop me feeling it for them.

“I will ask that in the future you … run new children by me?” he says like a question. “Sorry, not sure how to phrase that. I understand you couldn’t say no, I hope you don’t think I would have told you to, but aren’t we a team? Shouldn’t I have at least gotten a heads up?”

A team? Oh shit. Yeah. I’m in a real relationship now. My life decisions have an impact on his life. I guess I figured he could just leave if he wanted to while at the same time not wanting to let him go. “Fuck. I fucked up. I swear I’ll learn this boyfriend thing, Jack.”

“No. You didn’t fuck up. It’s called communication. That’s all I’m doing. If I don’t tell you it’s something I need, how will you know? And do you also hear what else I’m saying, bonehead?”

“No. I don’t think I could make sense of a power play right now, Jack.”

“I’ll spell it out then. I’m saying we’re us. We’re it. Somehow, we’ve quickly reached the stage where our life decisions impact one another because I see a real future for us. It too soon to say that? It’s how I feel though.”

“Not too soon. Fuck other timelines. This one belongs to us. We go at our pace.”

We’re quiet for the next hour so that the turmoil of that storm can pass. I’m wrung out. Emotionally battered.

“Guess we should batten down the hatches, eh, sailor?” he says.

“Did you just use your dad’s navy talk on me?”

“Yep.”

I roll my eyes, but it’s a comfort, having him use his familial language with me. He’s only just started doing it. “Why do we need to batten down the hatches?”

“Bad things come in threes, Merc. Everyone knows that.”

The weird shit with Vancouver. Sandy’s news. Guess that counts as two things in his book. It’s probably weird that I think it’s cute he’s throwing our “hits” in the same box. I get why he is though. We’re going through them together.

“I get a cheat meal on my program this week and it’s gonna be nachos. I’ll run down to the store for ingredients and then I’ll even make them, and we’ll just chill together tonight, okay?”

“No fucking way are you going on your own. I’m coming with you.” When Mom left, she stepped out to get something. He can step out for something on his own my ass.

Or just never.