Page 23 of Pucking the Team

“Great qualities. He’s married, right?”

“Why, you want him to replace your good-for-nothing groom?”

I laughed. “I think my wounds are a bit fresh, so no men for me, not for a long while.”

“That is understandable.” He set his hand over mine and squeezed. “You must take as long as you need to overcome this…this…setback.”

“Setback.” I nodded slowly. That was one way to describe my current situation.

“But when the right man comes along, be brave enough to open your heart and love again,” he said. “Because love is the only really worthwhile thing to live for.”

“Not hockey?” I picked up my juice, removing his hand.

“Ah, you are quite right, love and hockey, they are the reasons to live.”

When breakfast had been devoured, Eduardo left me to shower. He was going to the rink with the rest of the team, checking the place out in preparation for that evening’s game.

Once dressed in jeans again, and a red Tommy t-shirt, I pulled in a deep breath and picked up my phone.

I winced at the screen—five hundred and fifty-two messages, eighty-nine missed calls, and an image of Steven on the lock screen.

The first thing I did was snap a photograph of Cardiff Bay and change the screen. If I never sawhisface again it would be too bloody soon.

And then I called Aunt Mary.

She answered on the second ring.

“Pippa, my darling, oh, I have been so worried, you poor girl. Where are you?”

The sound of her voice brought tears to my eyes. “I’m…I’m in Cardiff.”

“What on earth are you doing there?”

“It’s a long story.” I paused. “I haven’t looked at any messages yet, that’s going to require some strength.”

“Of course it is, darling, but do reply to Trevor, he is beside himself.”

“I will, yes, of course. What happened, did you tell Steven why I wasn’t marrying him?”

“Too damn right I did. Right there in front of the entire congregation and the vicar. I marched up to the altar and told him you’d found out he was a lying cheat and so you weren’t coming to the church. And then I pointed at Cheryl and called her out, too.”

“Oh God.”

“Well,” Aunt Mary went on, “you can just imagine the crowd’s shock, but it was Trevor who took it the worst.”

“Trevor?”

“Yes, he practically hurdled the pews to get at Steven, and then when he did, he threw a punch, hitting him square on the chin and sending him reeling backwards.”

“A fight…in church…that’s not—”

“And the best man, I forget his name.”

“Patrick.”

“He had to stop Steven from throwing a punch at Trevor, and what’s his name…Trevor’s husband?

“William.”