Page 31 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)

Chapter 31

“Shattered”

Landry - Age 24, 1994

T he journey to this moment has been long. Countless times, I doubted that I would ever reach this point. My heart was ripped from my chest and moon-walked over when I was nineteen years old. And here’s the thing—I let it happen. I desperately wanted to believe in something that was never meant for me. And foolishly, I convinced myself it would all come true if I just held on tight enough and waited long enough.

But when the truth finally hit me, it was like a sharp knife to the gut. I realized how naive I had been, chasing after something that would never be mine. I believed that my heart was irreparably damaged and that there would never be enough left of it to offer to someone else. So, I built walls around it, refusing to let anyone in or to love again.

With gentle determination, this woman pulled me from my shattered self. Day by day, she began to put my broken heart back together, regardless of me pushing her away time and again. I don’t think it will ever heal, but it works well enough to want to try, and that’s saying something.

Despite my friends’ and families’ concerns about this elopement, I’m happy to be moving forward in a definite, tangible way. It may not be the scene I envisioned when I was younger, but I’ve come to understand that life rarely follows a plan. However, at this moment, I’m content with my choice. I mean, I’m as content as I can be. My skin feels tight and itchy, and my heart is hammering in my chest, but that’s normal when you’re getting married. Right?

Standing here on this pristine beach, Lauren and I, hand in hand, ready to pledge our lives to one another, I think we made the right decision. The sun shines bright and warm, casting a golden glow over the ocean that stretches endlessly towards the horizon. It’s secluded and romantic—a moment carved out just for us.

Everything is great for Lauren and me, wrapped in our impenetrable bubble. But suddenly, that bubble is popped by a piece of my past. She appears like a mirage, her strawberry blonde hair whipping in the wind, and she charges toward us.

Kerri?

Am I seeing things, or is Kerri Thatcher running down the beach like a crazy person, her arms flailing wildly and her voice lost in the noise of the Hawaiian surroundings as she shouts something unintelligible? My heart races with confusion and anticipation—what could be so urgent that Kerri would interrupt my wedding day?

My gaze falls on Lauren, her typically calm expression now contorted into a fierce scowl and narrowed eyes.

Kerri calls out to me in a strained and urgent voice. “Landry, wait!”

As I turn to face her, Kerri approaches us with tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks like a shattered masterpiece; a beautiful, broken mess.

Her mascara is smudged, and her hair is untamed as she reaches out but stops short of touching me. My heart aches at the sight of her. No matter what’s happened between us, I can’t stand to witness this. Kerri has been through so much, and I’d never want to hurt her this way.

“Landry,” Kerri says with a tremor in her voice. “I’m so sorry.”

My confusion intensifies as I try to piece together what could have prompted her to come here. Lauren abruptly drops her hands from mine as if they’ve been charred by fire and takes a step away. My heart races with uncertainty—what do I do in this situation? I can’t ignore Kerri’s sudden appearance, but it’s clear that my fiancée is not happy.

“Talk to her,” Lauren forces out through clenched teeth, her body tense and rigid.

“This is the worst timing, but I have to talk to you,” Kerri continues, her voice pleading.

“Kerri, I’m in the middle of getting married.” That should be fairly obvious to everyone here, and I’m annoyed that I have to point it out. I’m doing my best to maintain my composure, but I’m starting to lose the battle.

“I know, and it’s terrible that I waited until now to tell you. I’m so sorry. This can’t wait any longer.”

Kerri’s eyes mirror my own from a few years ago. Memories flood back, both good and bad. Everything I’ve buried deep down is bubbling to the surface.

The officiant stands by awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He looks like he’s ready to make a run for it. I feel the same way, Dude. Silence swallowed the air, drowning out the peaceful sounds of the beach.

“Landry, please listen,” Kerri beseeches. She looks so lost and fragile. As much as I want to resist, I need to hear her out.

I glance at Lauren and then back to Kerri. “Okay, fine. But whatever you need to say, Lauren can hear it, too,” I insist.

Kerri hesitates, her eyes shifting nervously between me and the ocean waves crashing behind us. “But, it’s more of a private conversation,” she says in a small voice.

I release a frustrated sigh. “Well, this was a private event before you stormed the beach,” I remind her sharply. “This is the best you’ll get.”

Kerri’s composure breaks, and she struggles to speak through choked sobs. She tugs at the hem of her dress, twisting it between her fingers as she shifts her weight from side to side.

My stomach clenches with guilt and sadness as I see how splintered and desperate Kerri looks. This is the first time since her accident that I’ve seen her like this—completely vulnerable and helpless. The memory of the day I walked into her hospital room floods my mind, bringing back all the pain and regret I thought I had buried long ago.

Lauren’s patience is quickly dwindling as she moves toward Kerri, her steps heavy and determined. Instinctively, I stepped between the two women. Breaking up a catfight on my wedding day was not on my radar when I woke up this morning.

I speak in a calm, gentle voice, trying to diffuse the tension. “Kerri, please listen to me. I understand this is difficult for you, but you shouldn’t have come here. Whatever you thought would happen, it’s not going to.”

Kerri’s face contorts with emotion, like a storm brewing under her skin. Her shoulders sink, and her eyes glisten. My heart sits heavy in my chest as I understand the pain in her own.

“You need to go home,” I say, knowing that it’s for her own good. I can’t have this conversation right now. I probably shouldn’t have this conversation, ever. Our time has passed, or at least that’s what I’m trying to remind my traitorous heart.

With every word, Kerri shrinks back further into herself, looking smaller than I ever thought possible. Beyond me, Lauren makes a triumphant chuckle, causing Kerri to retreat further.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles hoarsely. “I didn’t mean—I had to try—I shouldn’t have—.” Her words trail off as she continues to back away from the spot where she was rooted in the sand.

“Are you going to be okay?” I call out after her, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over me.

As she disappears into the distance, my heart twists with conflicting emotions—love, concern, and regret, all battling for dominance within me.

I turn my gaze back to Lauren. Her expression is a blend of shock and anger. I step toward her, but she takes one back. “You are never going to see that woman or the rest of your ‘so-called’ friends again. Do you understand me?”

Turning to the officiant, I speak through clenched teeth. “We’re going to need a moment.”