Page 132 of Heartbreak Hockey

“I just wanna be friends with him. Distant friends. You didn’t see his face when I told him there was no chance for us. I can’t stop picturing it. He contacted me after the last game, and I’ve been wrestling with how he might be feeling.”

Ah. There it is. Rhett. The cat who came fucking back. That’s what’s created the havoc. That’s who creates all the havoc.

“You aren’t responsible for his heartbreak.”

“I am though. I’m the literal reason.”

“Still, not yours to take on. It’s the risk anyone takes entering the game of love.”

He bites his lip, and he studies me with wide eyes. They’re scared eyes. He’s not scared of me; he’s scared of having this conversation. Oh goody, he must be getting to the extra-hurtful part. “It’s not just for him and this is the part I want to get my head straight about. I miss his friendship. All the time I spent pining over what we lost, we could have been friends.”

I can’t move or speak. What am I supposed to say to that? “You can’t be friends with exes, Jack. That’s a known fact.”

“How would you know? You don’t have an ex, Merc.”

“Don’t need experience on that one, Jack.

“That’s fine. It’s what I expected you to say, which is why I didn’t want to bother talking about it. I still need to get over it without you around.”

All I hear is that he’s still leaving and pain, unlike any other, sluices through me, lancing my heart. “What is there to get over, Jack? When you’re with someone else, shouldn’t you already be over him?”

“I don’t mean like that—see? This is why we can’t talk about this. It’s too painful for you.”

“It is fucking painful.” I won’t lie. “But I’ll take it over you leaving.”

“I’m not leavingyou. God, Merc.” He tugs at his hair. “I don’t know what to do here. I lose either way. I don’t want these feelings, but they’re there and you see them even when I’m trying to stuff them away while I’m around you.”

“You shouldn’t have to stuff your feelings away.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s bullshit. I do. For this anyway. Some things are meant to be dealt with through friends and this is one of those times.” Finally, he steps forward, but it’s hard as if he has to push through an invisible barrier. We’ve never had that. Usually, we’re so pulled together we’re like fucking cling wrap. Even our tiniest molecules wanna rub together and emit fuzzy electrical energy.

Right now, it’s like the signal’s near dead.

My heart’s beating so damn fast, the last lively piece of machinery still working. Of course. I have a feeling that’s about to change.

He puts his arms around my neck. “It’ll all be fine, Merc. Just let me go for a little bit. I need some time is all.”

Time? The guy’s had two fucking hockey seasons. If he’s not over everything about that guy by now, he never will be. I grab hold of his wrists. Peeling them away from my neck’s like peeling off my own skin.

Bringing his knuckles to my lips, I kiss them tenderly. “Go.”

He blinks and tears prick his jade-green eyes. “We’ll have a baby in the house, Merc. I just wanna get my shit together before all that starts. You understand that, right?”

“Sure, Jack.” I don’t bother trying to lie well. Maybe I sorta get it intellectually, but my heart doesn’t get it at all.

I … I assumed it was us against the world. Whatever shit was thrown our way, we’d deal with it. I thought that he was the same as me. Now he wants to deal with this by himself? Maybe I read him wrong. Or maybe he would like to be that way in theory, but when push comes to shove, he can’t handle what taking on the world together entails. It’s not pretty. It’s ugly and painful.

Scary.

If that’s the case, it would never work down the road anyway. Being a Meyer is filled with turmoil and chaos. With so many of us and our family’s code, it’ll always be that way. I don’t want to obligate him into something like that if he’s not made from the same threads. He’ll hate it. I don’t want him to hate his life with me.

“That doesn’t sound like a good sure, Mercy. Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop it. We’ll reconvene after playoffs, okay? I’m still moving in. We’re still us.”

I squeeze his wrists and let them go, fighting the tears from making themselves known so hard that heat brushes up my neck. “Maybe we should rethink that too. This might be moving too fast for what we can emotionally handle. Fact is, I have a lot of children with more coming and you’re twenty-four.”

“Almost twenty-five. Holy fucking shit, Mercy. You’ve taken this to a crazy place. I get it. You’re panicking because you think I’m leaving, but I’m not. You’re withdrawing to protect yourself, but you don’t need to protect yourself from me.”

“It sure as fuck feels that way, Jack.” My brain picks now to do the math on something that wasn’t important before because all that mattered was getting Jack to feel better, but now it’s announcing itself like a day-old bruise. “How did Rhett find out about what his dad was doing?”