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FORTY-TWO

MARA

JANUARY

“Happy New Year, Mar,” Jack grumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He smelled like yesterday’s whiskey and the scent made me blanch.

I rolled to my back and groaned, pain zinging through me.

I’d had this feeling before, anytime I was under a lot of stress and already in pain from something else. When Bryce was in the process of leaving. The fallout of him being gone and figuring out how to parent alone.

Head-to-toe body pain, aching like I had the flu, and not entirely sure I didn’t have it.

But if I got this way from extreme emotional distress, this was the first time Jack brought me body pain.

“I feel sick.”

Jack had any parent’s reaction. “Shit, do you need to throw up?”

I snorted. “No. Body pain. Feels like the flu. My skin’s on fire and I feel like I got hit by a bus.”

His lips met my forehead and I flinched away from him. “You’re not hot.”

“Thanks,” I cracked. “And going for a kiss after how you acted last night, Jack? Really?”

“You know what I mean. And that’s how my grandma used to check for fever. You don’t feel like you have a fever.” His worried eyes passed over me where he sat up on his elbow. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll get up and take some Tylenol,” I moaned.

“You have to stay in bed,” he said. “You’re sick.”

I waved a hand. “It’s probably just my chronic crap. I haven’t had a flare-up in a while.”

I moved to get up and he pushed me back down with another soft kiss to my forehead. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

I had to hope the drugs would work fast—today was Jack’s big Winter Classic game. Though, I didn’t really feel like stomping and cheering for a man who yelled at me and threw a hissy fit for saying I loved him.

Gabi was going to help me wrangle all four kids at the game, thankfully. The alternative was to keep them in the hotel, which sounded like another brand of hell. Jack returned to my side, dropping two pills in my hand and handing me a glass of water.

“Thanks,” I grumbled.

“Mara,” Jack drew a long breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t act like that?—”

“I know!” he snapped, then put out his hands. “I know.”

There was commotion from next door. The day was starting whether we liked it or not.

“I’ve got the kids. Get some rest.”

Gabi stayed with me until Jack got back. We decided to keep it easy with a movie and room service after the game. I didn’t want to talk about Jack’s behavior in front of the kids, so I’d caught Gabi up on our fight in the quickest way possible when the kids were absorbed in something else at the stadium.

“You two were due for a fight,” she said.

“Yeah, but it’s a big one,” I said.

She shrugged. “Big fight, big makeup.”

I had fallen asleep spooning Hazel by the time Jack made it to our room. I heard him mumble a thank you to Gabi and mention that Nikki was waiting for her. As Jack got the kids ready for bed, I drifted in and out of sleep, listening to him quietly read them a book before tucking each one in.

“Hey, Mar,” he said, shaking me gently when it was time to leave their room. “Want to stay here or come to ours?”

“Ours,” I said, starting to get up. But Jack didn’t let me, scooping me up and taking me into our room. He set me on our bed and studied me.

“How you feeling?”

“Still in pain,” I said.

“Will a hot bath help?” he asked. He really looked concerned, and I felt bad for not helping him at all with the kids. I was still mad, but he seemed to have cooled off with some remorse setting in.

“Worth a shot,” I said.

“I’ll go run it,” Jack said, stroking my cheek before getting up.

Once the bath filled, Jack brought my cane and walked me into the bathroom. He helped peel off my clothes, wincing as I flinched from the pain of my clothes against my skin.

“Poor thing,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“It is kind of your fault,” I said.

“How?” he asked, looking horrified.

I dipped a toe into the water, the perfect almost-too-hot temperature. Jack held my hands as I settled in, then sat on the floor next to the tub. “Since I have so much pain, sometimes when I get stressed, my brain misinterprets the signals and puts pain everywhere.”

Jack sighed, casting his eyes down. “And I stressed you out.”

“Yep,” I said, lifting my hair to drape over the edge of the tub. Sweet relief poured into my muscles as the warmth enveloped me. I peeked my eyes open to find Jack watching me.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I puffed out some air. “Sorry for loving you? My mistake, truly.”

I was being flippant, but that was kind of how I felt.

“Can I get in with you?” he asked.

“Sure. But no big expectations.”

“Nah,” he said with a little laugh. “I just want to be with you.” Jack removed his clothes and got in, scooting me up so he could get behind me. He arranged his legs on either side of me and leaned me back against his chest. We both hummed, the feeling so pleasant. “Sorry, got your hair wet.”

I shot a smile over my shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to wash it, then.”

With soft hands, he worked on slowly getting my hair wet, a rhythmic motion. He smoothed over the space behind my ear and down my neck, a soothing touch that had me melting.

“Sydney would have been mad I got her hair wet,” he finally said.

I nodded, not turning to look at him. Sometimes, I noticed he needed to not be distracted by eye contact, so the bath with us facing the same direction worked for us. “I mean, I don’t like interrupting my hair washing schedule,” I said. “But I’ve got bigger problems now.”

“I know,” Jack said. He got a pump of shampoo in his hand and started working it into my hair. His fingertips massaged my scalp and I sighed, nestling back into him harder. “She was really hard on me. And not like you are. She started out so wildly affectionate, doing anything and everything to make me happy. I’d never had anybody pay me that kind of attention. She was just . . . always there. When I needed her. When I didn’t need her. She convinced me I needed her, made herself my everything so I couldn’t picture a life without her. I loved the attention because . . . I never really had that.”

“Love bombing,” I said quietly.

“It’s funny, Rome’s wife called it that too. I never bothered to look up what it meant and assumed it was a good thing and just meant she loved me so much.”

“Oh, no.”

Jack sighed. “Yep. So when she started getting controlling, I went with it. I let her dictate everything.” He cupped water in his hands and poured it over my hair. “And she was just so cruel. She also gave me shit for wanting her to take control. Told me a real man wouldn’t be a little bitch.”

I stroked my fingers over Jack’s muscled thighs, wanting to reassure him without interrupting him.

“But if I didn’t go along with something, the crying and manipulation started.”

“Love never came without strings.”

“I guess,” he said softly, seeming like he’d never thought of it himself.

“And your parents had to focus on your brother,” I said.

“Yeah. And even before the accident, he was the center of attention. The bigger talent. The bigger deal.”

“So you didn’t have much unconditional love.”

Jack was quiet for a long time, his fingers idly combing through my wet hair. “Except Papi.”

I put my hand on his knee where it popped up next to me. “I’m glad you had Papi.”

“Me too,” he said. “And I’m sorry it’s hard for me to see that you’re not Sydney. I know you’re not, but certain things set me off. Yesterday it just felt like the pattern was repeating itself. I was scared.”

I nodded. “I get it.” I reached for his arms and wrapped them around me in the front. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“How do you do it? Don’t I remind you of Bryce?”

I gave that some thought. “The only real thing you two have in common is hockey.”

“And being assholes,” Jack said.

I laughed. “Sure. But not in the same way. You’re an asshole on behalf of others. He’s an asshole on behalf of himself.”

“I shouldn’t be an asshole at all,” he said, sounding really upset. “I guess I’m pretty fucked up.”

“Pfft. We all are,” I said, making him laugh. “I have some weird superstition that I have to keep shaking off.”

“Don’t walk under ladders?” Jack asked, getting some conditioner in his hands and working it into my hair.

“No. My mom’s first marriage, to my dad, he left, you know. Like, the classic went out for cigarettes and never came back.”

“That’s a real thing?” Jack said.

“Unfortunately, yes, for some of us it has been real.” His fingers felt nice sliding along my shoulders. “So anyway, when she met my stepdad, it’s like her second marriage was just destined to be perfect. So in a way, I hoped my second marriage would be the same.”

“I’ve never heard you talk to your mom,” Jack said.

“We disagree about other things. My stepdad is super religious, and not the kind that makes you a better person. Mom’s gotten into it too. She seems happy, but part of her being happy and me being happy is knowing we can’t really be together or talk often.”

Jack hooked his arm across my front. “Sorry, Mara.”

“Meh. It’s kind of old news. I’m surprised she hasn’t called yet, now that she’ll know we got married. You ever talk to your parents?”

“My mom’s always trying to mend things,” Jack said, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair and clouding the bathwater. “But I guess I’m like you. I don’t want to deal with it all the time, so I just don’t.”

“Fair.”

Jack and I were quiet for a while, the bathwater starting to cool as we just enjoyed being together. I used my foot to turn the hot water back on, not wanting to get out. Once I turned it off, Jack spoke again.

“I know I’m not normal, but I just need you to be patient with me.”

I chuckled. “Bro, you’d better get some therapy.”

He groaned. “No, I don’t want to deal with it.”

“Hence the Nickelback,” I teased. “Nothing like some divorced dad rock to pick up the pieces.”

“If you weren’t already in pain, I’d pinch you,” he said.

“Oh, good boys don’t pinch, Jack.”

He sighed wistfully. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

I reached behind me and grabbed his chin between my fingers. “Always such a brat.”