Page 31 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO (Second Chance Hockey Players #1)
Chapter twenty-three
Hazel
A knock on the door interrupts my morning routine. I freeze for a moment, as I am not expecting anyone. I pull the door open, and the last – well, that is a lie – the person I want to see is standing there. His hands are in his pockets, his shoulders tense. He looks…, apologetic. Confused?
“Good morning,” he says, his voice quiet, almost careful.
I fold my arms. “Can I help you?”
He hesitates, his jaw tightening. “Can I come in?”
I arch a brow. “And if I say no?”
His jaw tightens slightly, but then he sighs. “Please, Hazel. I just…, I just want to talk.”
I stare at him for a moment longer, my pride screaming at me to slam the door in his face. But curiosity, or maybe the tiniest sliver of masochism, wins. With a sigh, I step aside.
He steps in, the air between us thick with tension. I stay by the door, crossing my arms. “Whatever it is, make it quick. I have things to do.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then, finally, he clears his throat. “I want to talk about last night.”
“There’s nothing left to say,” I reply, keeping my voice steady. “Everything that needed to be said has been said. I have nothing else to add.”
“But I do.” He takes a step closer, and I instinctively step back. “I have something to ask you.”
I sigh; my patience is already thin. “What is it, Liam?”
He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze. “Ethan told me…, he said you were at the bar that night. That you heard what I said. Why didn’t you just…, come and talk to me?”
I laugh, bitter and humorless. “Talk to you? Talk to the man who stood there and said he hated me? Who said five years of his life were wasted on me? Tell me, Liam, what exactly would I have said to you?”
He winces like my words are physical blows. “Hazel…”
“Don’t.” My voice cracks, and I can feel the tears threatening to spill, but I will not let him see them. “You called me a gold digger. You said loving me was a mistake. That you were not even sure if you ever loved me. You loved me out of pity? Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
“I was drunk,” he says, his voice low.
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I spit back. “That you said the most vile, hateful things because you were drunk and angry? Do you know what they say about drunk words, Liam? That they are sober thoughts. So do not stand there and tell me it did not mean anything.”
He reaches for me, but I step back, shaking my head. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”
“Hazel, please,” he says, his voice cracking. He looks at me, guilt etched into every line of his face.
“You broke me,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You broke me in ways I did not even know I could be broken. No, Liam. No.”
“Hazel, I…”
“No!” I shove his chest, my hands trembling with anger. “You do not get to ‘Hazel’ me. Not after the person I thought trusted me and I trusted was the one to shove the knife straight to my heart.”
He runs a hand through his hair, his face etched with regret. “I didn’t know, Hazel. I didn’t…”
“You didn’t care to find out!” I scream, my voice raw.
“You did not care to ask me. You just believed them. You believed the worst about me without even giving me a chance to defend myself. Do you know what it feels like to be discarded like trash? To hear the person you gave everything to turn around and say they never loved you? To be humiliated and mocked by the people you thought were your family? Do you?”
His eyes glisten, but I do not care. My pain demands release.
My hands tremble, and before I can stop myself, I push him hard in the chest. He stumbles back, startled. “I hate you,” I cry, hitting him again, though it is weak and more out of frustration than anger. “I hate you for making me believe I was not enough. For making me believe I was nothing!”
“Hazel, I…”
“Just leave!” I scream, my voice breaking. “Leave, Liam! I do not want to see you anymore!”
Tears blur my vision, and I do not care how wrecked I look. The weight of his words from five years ago crushes me all over again.
“Hazel, please…”
“I said - GET OUT!”
He hesitates, his face crumpling as he looks at me. Finally, he turns and walks to the door. I do not wait for him to leave before I slam it shut behind him, locking it as if that will keep the pain out.
My legs give out, and I sink to the floor, my sobs shaking my entire body. Fumbling for my phone, I call the only people who can help me through this.
“Grace,” I whisper when she answers. “Can you and the gang come over? Please? I need you.”
Within an hour, Grace, Luke, and Maya are there, wrapping me in their arms, their soft reassurances barely piercing the haze of pain.
But for the first time in years, I let myself grieve. I grieve for the love I lost, for the trust that was broken, and for the girl I used to be before Liam shattered her.