Page 2 of Heartbreak Hockey

Hate to say it, but I think that’s what being rich does—gives you influence. Who wouldn’t want the son of Maxwell Elkington, Mayor of Vancouver?

Hell, even his mom is pretty damn famous. She works with local celebrities. They don’t just have money; they have the world eating from the palms of their hands.

His nod is a slow one as if he has to process that. “I thought you’d want to … how should I say this? Take after your dad.”

I know he means Dad not the captain even though I call him Dad too. My other dad is a stay-at-home dad. He has his own craft store on Etsy that does very well. It’s the setup my parents wanted.

I want to play hockey. I want a family too, but I dreamed of something less conventional. We’d have to have help and roles would have to ping-pong a tad, but I figured we’d make it work. Rhett knows this.

My face screws up as I try to find evidence that he’s joking or that maybe this isn’t Rhett, but some alien imposter, which would be more believable than this bizarre conversation we’re having. I scrub my hand over my face.

“Rhett, where is this coming from?”

He tries to brighten his smile, but I know him too well. It’s false bravado. “You love making those little dolls with him. You get excited about his new projects.”

I have spent many a night when I’m home helping Dad fill orders, but only because I love him. I mean, the dolls are kinda fun to make, but I don’t want that as my career.

Before I can answer he adds, “We can’t both play hockey and have a family, Jacky. Chances are slim that we’d ever get drafted to the same team and you know what in-season is like, we might as well be going off to war with how much we’d see each other and have contact.”

“Is it because of sex? You know I’d open up the relationship if you wanted. I feel secure enough about us to do that.” At least I did. An awful feeling is growing in my chest like I’m slipping and can’t gain purchase on anything. I’m Alice in Wonderland, falling into a hole, traversing a world I know nothing about.

His grip on my hands tightens. “I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

That brings an odd sort of comfort. He still wants me. I was getting the undeniable sense we were about to break up. Is it hot in here? Sweat beads along my brow. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and it takes great effort to speak.

“What do you suggest then?” I croak.

That’s when he does it; he pulls out the ring box. Inside is the largest diamond I’ve ever seen. It’s so shiny that it looks fake, but that could never be. Rhett doesn’t buy fake anything. When it moves in his hand—fuck, he’s shaking, he’s nervous—the light catches it, and it sparkles bright enough to blind.

Everything is beautiful except for the moment. I thought this was going to feel like everything clicking together, instead, it’s like everything’s falling apart. Invisible hands grip my throat, choking me. Hot tears burn behind my eyes. “I love it, Rhett.”

I don’t fail to notice he hasn’t asked me the question yet.

“It’s not just the career thing. I thought that with what you like … domestically that you’d rather be the stay-at-home partner.”

That pisses me off a little. “You know that’s bullshit, Rhett. Just because I like a little domestic discipline that doesn’t mean I want to be a fifties housewife.”

“You want a sliver of it though,” he says.

I flush, embarrassed by the truth of that. “A sliver of it.” Sliver equals spanking stuff and rules—that part I like—but I don’t want to be the stay-at-home anything. “Do you really see me starring as fanboy at your games after I’ve attended PTA meetings?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “A bit. It’s a nice fantasy.”

“Sorry I don’t fit your fantasy. Jesus, Rhett. Where is this coming from? This wasn’t our plan.”

He grits his teeth. “We were dreaming before. This is serious, Jack. I want us to be together, but it won’t work if we’re not together most of the year.”

I sit back in my chair, ripping my hands from his. Frustrated rage takes over and consumes me enough that I’m liable to create a scene in this fancy place. “Love always wins. We love each other. We can make it work.”

“How?”

He leaves the open ring box on the table, glaring me in the face, also sitting back in his chair, and crossing his arms. Even with all the confusion bubbling inside me, all I want is to be wrapped in those arms.

Once again, my tongue is stuck, and I have to pry it from the roof of my mouth. “There’s Facetime and some of our games are bound to line up.”

“I don’t love any of that, but okay, so we find some way to make that work. What about children?”

“I guess I was thinking they could be with me when I’m on the road for some of it and we could trade off. It’s not like we wouldn’t be able to afford help.”