Page 29 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO (Second Chance Hockey Players #1)

Chapter twenty-one

Hazel

I slam the door shut behind me, the sound echoing through the quiet guest house.

My bag drops onto the couch with a dull thud, and I head straight for the kitchen.

My throat is dry, my chest tight, and my hands tremble ever so slightly.

I need water! Juice! Something! Anything cold to cool the fire of anger burning inside me.

I pour some ice-cold water and gulp the entire content, yet it does nothing to ease the anger simmering inside me. Pouring myself another glass, I take a sip, then another, trying to swallow my frustration. I set the glass down on the counter and grip its edges, breathing deeply.

Calm down, Hazel. She is just not worth it.

I lean against the counter and close my eyes as her words replay in my head.

A few hours earlier

Layla and I are at our table in the cozy corner of the restaurant, the lights casting a bright glow over the place.

I was halfway through a plate of Shrimp étouffée when Layla groaned dramatically. "This is good stuff," she said, licking the last bit of sauce off her fork with a satisfied grin.

“Definitely,” I reply with a grin of delight. “This is one of the best I’ve had in a long time.”

“Seriously, how is it that I’ve lived my whole life and never tried this shrimp dish?” She says, leaning back in her chair, eyeing my half-filled plate with hungry eyes.

I laugh softly, pushing my plate toward her. “Because you have a one-track mind when it comes to food, and it’s usually set on burgers.”

She snickers, taking a few bites off my plate. “I wonder if I can get another serving,” she muses, her eyes glinting with determination.

I laugh. “You have already eaten enough for two people. Where are you even putting all this?”

She grins, patting her stomach. “This will not do. I have to ask for more. Be right back!” With that, she is gone, weaving her way through the tables.

I shake my head, chuckling to myself, and stab my fork into a succulent piece of shrimp. The flavor bursts on my tongue - a mix of garlic, butter, and just the right amount of spice. I have barely forked another bite when a voice cuts through the pleasant haze.

“Well, look who we have here.”

I freeze, my fork hovering in midair as a chill snakes up my spine. I glance up to find Sharon, Liam’s mother, standing over me, dressed to perfection in a tailored coat and pearls. Her expression is a mix of disdain and disbelief.

“Hello, Hazel,” she says, her tone dripping with mock politeness.

“Hello, Sharon,” I say coolly, not bothering to rise from my seat.

Her lips curve into a smile, but there is no warmth in it. “I heard you’ve been back in town for a while.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I have to admit, I am surprised to see you back here. I thought you had finally left for good. Why are you back?”

I take a sip of my drink, keeping my face neutral. “I didn’t know my return or travel plans required your approval, Sharon.”

Her lips tighten, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Oh, don’t play coy with me. If you are back here for Liam, then…”

“Let me stop you right there, Sharon,” I interrupt, setting my glass down and standing up, meeting her eye to eye. “Not everything revolves around your son.”

She looks taken aback for a split second.

“And why would I want to go back to someone like that?” I tilt my head slightly, watching as her smug expression falters.

Then I lean in closer, lowering my voice so only she can hear.

“But let me tell you something. If I wanted to go back to him, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - you could do about it.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, her composure cracking for the briefest second before she regains it. “You little…”

“Careful, Sharon.” I cut in before she could finish, my lips curving into a cold smile, tilting my head just slightly as though daring her to continue. “I see you have not changed. Still trying to control everyone around you, still looking down on people like it is your full-time job.”

Sharon’s mouth twitches, but she recovers quickly, her tone turning icy. “You are delusional if you think Liam would ever take you back. And even if he did, it would not last. You are still the same girl who wasn’t good enough for him then, and you’re certainly not good enough now.”

Her words sting, but I will not give her the satisfaction of seeing it. My face remains calm, but my eyes - sharp and unwavering - betray the flicker of irritation beneath it. My lips press into a thin line as she continues, her hands moving in animatedly.

“You think showing up here, parading yourself around, will change anything? It will not. Liam’s life has moved on.

He is successful, respected, and happy. The last thing he needs is you dragging him down all over again.

Do not think for a second that I don’t know what kind of woman you are. Manipulative, greedy, desperate…”

“Are you done?” I interrupt, my voice cool and unbothered, though my hands curl into fists at my sides.

She blinks, startled into silence. Her mouth opens and closes like she is searching for more venom to spit.

“Here’s the thing, Sharon.” I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, my movements slow and deliberate. “Your opinion does not matter to me. Maybe it did then, but now? Nothing. So, stop wasting your breath and energy riling me up or making me feel small just because it makes you feel big.”

“But….”

“Enjoy your evening, Sharon.” I turn to leave, only to turn around and look at her one last time. “For what it is worth, I hope you find something else to do with your time. Because this? This obsession with controlling your son’s life? It is not a good look. Ciao.”

I do not wait for her response. Turning on my heel, I stride out of the restaurant, leaving her standing there, fuming and sputtering.

****

An hour later, I am curled up on my couch watching Netflix when I hear a loud knock on the door.

I frown, setting my glass down. It is late, and I’m not expecting anyone. With a sigh, I place my snacks on the table and make my way to the door. Opening it, it is Liam, hands shoved into his pockets, his expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

"Can I come in?" He asks softly.

I step aside, letting him enter. He is still in his dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, and his tie slightly loosened.

“About what happened earlier,” he begins.

I fold my arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I just wanted to…, I don’t know. Make sure you are okay.”

“I’m okay, as you can see,” I say, moving close to the couch. “Now, if that’s all, I’ve got a movie to get back to.”

“Look,” he begins, turning to face me. “I am sorry. My mum had no right to…”

“Stop,” I cut him off, my voice colder than I intended. “Don’t. Don’t try to defend me now. You are five years too late for that, don’t you think?”

Liam frowns, his jaw tightening. “I am not defending you. I am just…”

“Trying to do what? Comfort me?” I laugh, sharp and bitter. “You? Of all people?”

His face hardens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a hypocrite,” I snap. “You’ve always been one, Liam.”

Liam flinches, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Then why are you here, Liam?” I snap. “To play the role of the good guy who swoops in to make things better?”

His eyes darken. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

I laugh, but there is no humor in it. “Harder? Do you want to talk about hard? Try being berated and humiliated by your boyfriend’s family for years. Try having your love dismissed as some cheap fling. Hypocrite.”

“That’s not fair,” he says, his voice rising. “You have no idea…”

“No idea?” I take a step closer, my anger bubbling over. “You want to talk about fair? Fine. Tell me, Liam. Why do you hate me, then?”

His eyes flash with something unreadable. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Because you’re a gold digger,” he says, his words slicing through the air.

“I beg your pardon?”

“My mum told me she offered you two million dollars to leave me, and you took it.” His voice cracks slightly. “Two million dollars, Hazel. Is that what I was worth to you?”

“Really?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You believed everything she said about me without ever asking for my side.”

“Why should I? When was there proof of that? And also, for the fact that you cheated.’

I let out a hollow laugh, wiping my eyes. “Oh, Liam, you really are your mother’s son. I never took that money,” I say, my voice trembling with fury. “Your mother and your sisters threatened me. They forced it on me. I never even cashed it.”

He shakes his head. “You are lying. They told me you already cashed the check, so you have got to be lying.”

“Am I?” I turn and storm into my bedroom. My hands tremble as I open the drawer of my nightstand and pull out the old, crumpled cheque out of a wallet.

I return to the living room and throw it onto the coffee table in front of him.

“There. The cheque your mother gave me that night. That cold, rainy, and lonely night. The night she told me to get out of your life because you already have a big opportunity coming your way. The night she told me I was not good enough for you, that I was a phase she’d tolerated long enough. ”

His eyes widen as he stares at the check.

“She said over her dead body that she would let me into her family. That she already had someone better lined up for you,” I continue, a tear dropping down my face.

“She said she let us be together because she thought you were just having fun with me. And your sisters, Lillian, and Linda? They mocked me every chance they got, I just never told you about it.”

I paused, staring at him and then the cheque on the table. I wipe my face with the back of my hand, my voice trembling. “Hate is a strong word, Liam, but it is the only one that fits how I feel about them. Was it my fault that I was an orphan? Was it my fault that I was poor?”

“No…”

“Yes.” I step closer, my tone hardening. “Do you want to know how many times your mother tried to pay me off? Twice. One was the day after your birthday, and the other was the night, the day after you came back.”

He runs a hand over his face, looking torn. “Hazel, I…”

“And you,” I cut him off, my voice rising. “You believed them. You believed whatever they told you without even asking me. Why, Liam? Why?”

“Because you cheated,” he says after a long pause.

“I told you, I never cheated on you.”

“Do not lie. I saw the pictures,” he says after a long pause. “With three different guys, Hazel. Not one. Not two. Three.”

I stare at him, stunned. “Pictures?”

He nods, his voice harsh. “Owen, Todd, and some pink-haired guy. All in the space of three months while I was away.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Then explain it,” he demands.

“Fine,” I snap. “Orlando was planning a surprise proposal for his girlfriend.

He paid me to help him, and you know I would do that sort of thing as long as I am paid.

We went to restaurants, hotels - places to plan the perfect moment.

And you know how Owen is; he has always been huggy and needs some sort of physical contact.

“As for Colin, I met him at a bar when I went to deliver food.

He was black out drunk, barely able to stand, and the bar was about to close, so I helped him to the bus stop and waited with him for a friend who was coming to pick him up.

That is it. But apparently, helping someone in need makes me a cheater.

Let me guess: you got pictures of him resting on my shoulders or me stroking his lips?

“Yeah”

“Figured,” I chuckle. “The dude was practically drooling on me; my hand was on his lips. To hold his mouth shut.”

“And the guy with pink hair?”

I let out a breath, my voice softer now. “Josh is my aunt’s son. My cousin. His mom did not even know my mom had a child because she ran away from home. We met by chance and clicked. That is all.”

“You were pretty intimate with these guys.”

“Have you never heard of photoshop?”

“Is that the truth?” Liam asks.

Scoffing, I reply, “Yes it is. Do you still doubt it? How…, how in God’s name would you think I would do that to you?

Cheating with one guy is one thing, but with three?

Didn’t that seem weird to you, knowing my kind of personality?

Knowing who I am? How could you, of all people, believe pictures, not even word of mouth, pictures? ”

Liam’s face falls. “I… I don’t know.”

“Of course, you do. Maybe it is because deep down, you have always had doubt or suspicions, so seeing the pictures just solidified whatever you thought. Right?”

He rubs his hands over his face, the weight of my words visibly sinking in. He tries to speak but stops, his mouth opening and closing like he cannot find the right words.

I cross my arms, my voice cold. “Who told you I cheated? And was it before or after you got the pictures?”

He hesitates before answering. “Lillian, and it was before.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Of course it was Lillian. God, Liam, your family…, and I bet that set off an atom of doubt in your mind that you let foster until you got the pictures that solidified what Lillian said, right?” I shake my head, letting out a dry, humorless chuckle.

“Haze…” He took a step towards me, but I hold up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“No. Don’t. Now that you know everything, get out.”

“Hazel, please…”

“I said, get out!” My voice cracks, louder this time, filled with every ounce of pain and anger I have been holding back.

He stares at me for a moment, his expression torn, but he finally nods and walks out, the door clicking shut behind him.

As soon as he is gone, the tears spill over, hot and uncontrollable. My knees buckle, and I sink to the floor, sobbing into my hands.