Page 28 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)
Chapter 28
“How’s It Going To Be”
Four Years Later... Kerri - Age 23, 1993
A s I approach the farm, my body tenses, and my heart races when I spot a familiar vehicle parked by the barn. I can’t believe he’s still driving that old truck. Memories flood my mind—both good and bad—as I try to make sense of his unexpected presence. This is not a conversation I was prepared to have yet, although deep down, it’s needed.
The air smells of freshly cut grass and earth, with a hint of lingering rain from earlier in the day. The sun casts long shadows across the fields, giving everything a warm, golden hue. A gentle breeze carries the sounds of birds chirping and the distant lowing of cows. It fills my senses even as my heart hammers in my chest and my head dizzies with anticipation.
The old wooden barn doors creak open, revealing him standing inside. I can only catch a glimpse of his back as he effortlessly lifts and shifts the hay bales. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from hard work, highlighting the rippling muscles that strain under the weight. Every movement is fluid and powerful, just like how he plays hockey, and I can’t help but admire the strength and grace in every sinewy line.
He looks up, and our eyes meet. Time seems to freeze for a moment as we take one another in. A thousand unspoken words hang in the air between us, begging to be heard.
“Landry,” I gasp. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“And yet here I am,” he replies, his accusing tone cutting deep.
“Papa said you don’t work on the farm anymore,” I manage to reply through the lump in my throat.
He turns his back and continues working. “I don’t, but he needed some extra help with the delivery.”
I shift my weight back and forth on my feet. “That’s really nice,” I hate how small my voice sounds when saying those words. “Um, I didn’t realize that you still helped out around here.”
He moves another haybale like it weighs nothing. “Why would you?” His tone is accusatory and biting. “It’s not like we know anything about each other’s lives anymore.” Each word is like a sharp dagger piercing through me and leaving a trail of pain in its wake.
I can feel the temperature dropping around us. Our tension is heavy, filled with years of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.
“This isn’t the way I wanted to see you again. You have to know that.”
He stops and wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm, revealing the lines of tension etched into his face. “What I know, Kerri,” he continues, “is that I haven’t heard from you for years. We broke up, and I get that. But I thought we promised always to be friends.” He shrugs. “I guess I was wrong.”
I let out a heavy sigh, my head shaking in defeat. This isn’t the time or place for this conversation. “Are you going to be here all weekend?”
He offers a slight nod, his eyes downcast. “Yeah, I am. Your grandparents mean a lot to me, and this farm has become like a second home.”
My mind races with questions for him, but he doesn’t owe me any answers. The familiar grounds of the farm are suddenly foreign to me. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I struggled to process his presence.
“I’m sorry I bothered you. They didn’t tell me you’d be here.”
His response is sharp and emotionless, “I asked them not to.”
Confusion and hurt wash over me. “I don’t understand.”
“Because it’s none of your business anymore,” he states coldly, his tone like ice cutting through the air.
The words catch in my throat as I look at him, trying to read the emotions behind his stoic expression. “Well, I’m back now,” I say softly. “I graduated. I’m officially done with my undergraduate work and will be spending the next four years here doing my postgraduate studies. It looks like I’m going to be a veterinarian, after all.”
A flicker of emotion crosses his face before it settles back into its unreadable state. “Congratulations,” he says, though his tone remains flat. “I’m sure you worked really hard to reach this point.” His eyes meet mine for a moment before flicking away, and I can sense a mounting tension between us that wasn’t there before.
My head nods in agreement, but words seem to escape me. The old us would have been swept up in a hug by now, overflowing with joy and relief at our reunion. But this is not the old us. These are two strangers standing awkwardly before each other, separated by a thick veil of tension and anger. I am at a loss for how to bridge the gap between us.
“I understand that you’re angry,” I finally manage to say. “And you have every right to be. But we need to have a conversation about all of this at some point. Especially if we’re going to continue seeing more of each other.” The words echo with unspoken apologies and pent-up emotions.
“Or we could simply brush it off,” he says, a casual shrug of his shoulders betraying the weight of his words. “Let bygones be bygones.”
My blood boils at his nonchalant attitude towards the memories we’ve shared and the time we’ve invested in each other. We’re not going to act as if they hold no value or significance.
“No!” I shout, my fists clenching at my sides. “We will not sweep this under the rug like it means nothing.”
His gaze lingers on me with indifference, as if I am just another passing figure in his life.
“Right now, I’ll give you your space,” I state coolly, “but eventually, Landry, we’re going to have to face the fact that I’m back in Merrimack.” With that, I turn on my heel and exit the barn, leaving us both to process our words.
As I exit the barn, my body trembles with a mixture of emotions—anger simmering beneath sadness and anxiety churning with regret. I’m painfully aware that this is my fault. I was the one who walked away, leaving the weight of our relationship on my shoulders. But life became chaotic, and I never intended to neglect him. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, though. The fact is that I asked for a guarantee that we’d always be friends, and he readily gave it. To him, it probably seems like I threw it away. No matter how many times I apologize, it doesn’t change the fact. But now I’m back, and I’ll work as hard as necessary to make things right.
Ivy’s blue eyes glisten with worry as she leans forward, asking, “Then what happened?”
My shoulders rise and fall in a nonchalant shrug. “I walked out. What else could I do?”
Sascha interjects, her tone filled with surprise and disbelief. “Damn. I’ve never seen Landry like that. I can’t imagine him being that pissed.”
I furrow my brows in confusion. “He wasn’t like that when I left?”
Sascha dips a french fry into the ketchup and takes a bite before answering. “Nah. He was sad but not angry.”
Ivy nods in agreement and adds, “Time has a way of bringing anger to the surface.”
I turn to Sascha and ask, “He never said anything to you?” She shakes her head, her expression apologetic. “We never really talk about you...not that I see him that often these days. With school and everything…”
Resting my chin on my hand, I remark, “That’s true. It’s pretty crazy, isn’t it? Here we are, all single while Sarah is getting married soon.”
Ivy lets out a small sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Definitely not how I envisioned things working out.” She nudges Sascha playfully, adding, “But then again, I also never expected to be kidnapped or for you to hook up with Michael Tazman,” she says with a laugh.
Sascha rolls her eyes but joins in on the laughter. “Hey, leave me out of this!”
We all share a chuckle before I add, “But seriously, though, who would have thought I’d end up with temporary amnesia that would completely upend my life?”
Sash’s voice is filled with a mix of emotion—relief, nostalgia, and joy all rolled into one. “It’s been a wild ride, for sure,” she says. “But we’re still here, and I’m so happy to have my best friends closer again.”
I reach across the table and gently place my hand on top of hers. Her grip tightens as we share a moment of unspoken understanding. “Me too,” I say softly, my own eyes brimming with tears.
As if on cue, the bell above the diner door chimes behind me. We both turn our heads slightly, but I don’t bother to face the entrance fully. However, I can see the shock and surprise in both of their expressions from where I sit.
They quickly try to mask their reactions, but Sash’s scowl lingers for just a little too long before she regains her composure, causing me to glance over my shoulder in curiosity.
As Ivy’s voice trails off, I turn to see what has caught their attention. My heart sinks as I take in the sight before me. Landry is here, and he’s not alone. Walking beside him is a stunning brunette, tall and graceful with perfect features. Their fingers are entwined, and my throat tightens as I try to swallow down the lump that has formed. Part of me wants to look away, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze from them.
“Should we go say hello?” Ivy asks, breaking the silence. “He’s our friend, after all.”
“I’d rather stay over here and not punch her in the tit,” Sash says with a bitter laugh.
“Do you know her?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I know of her,” Sascha replies icily. “She was a year behind us in school. Always acting like she was better than this town because her family has money.”
All I can do is watch as they make their way toward the hostess, wondering if they’ll notice me sitting here. I hope not. I’d rather become invisible at this moment.
I swallow through the lump in my throat. “How long have they been together?”
After a moment, Ivy’s voice breaks the silence. “Almost a year now,” she says with a somber tone.
My heart tightens inside my chest, but I manage to keep my composure and say, “He seems happy with her.”
“It’s not right,” Sascha interjects. “She’s not the right person for him. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“Well, I wasn’t the right one either,” I say with a hint of bitterness. “I’d like to leave now.” The tears that threaten to escape are barely kept at bay.
“Of course. Let’s go,” Ivy agrees, her voice full of sympathy. With heavy hearts, we gather our things and prepare to leave. Before we do, I steal one last glance in their direction. Landry meets my gaze, and there is regret and sadness behind his eyes, but also anger simmering just beneath the surface. Knowing there may be nothing I can do to make it go away breaks my heart even more.