Chapter 28
Sutton
It’s been fifteen days, six hours and twenty-seven minutes since I last saw Alex.
It’s been fifteen days, six hours and twenty-seven minutes since he broke my heart.
And while my heart is on the mend, it still hurts badly on most days and just twinges annoyingly on the others. My anger has at least subsided, and while I don’t accept his reasoning for breaking things off, I do understand it. Just because I understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t painful.
Because God…it’s so painful.
I wish I didn’t understand why he did it, because it would be easier to mire myself in hate and bitterness, which I’m sure would stop the pain that emanates from the center of my chest. But I do understand him, in ways that most others never would.
Just fifteen days and some change ago, my day had started off wonderfully.
I had an amazing counseling session with Mara. She looked healthy, although not quite happy. However, she had told me the words that I had longed to hear, that was she was staying strong to fight her desire to use meth again. More important, her parents had agreed to come in and talk to me the next week. I didn’t have high hopes they’d make it in, because I knew how easy it was to make those promises yet so very hard to keep them. Still, I was feeling more confident that Mara was taking the right steps so she didn’t stray down the same destructive path as her parents.
My day got even better from there.
Cosmo called me.
Which in and of itself isn’t all that strange. He’s called me over the years for a variety of reasons.
But that day?
That day he called from the lobby of Crested Pine, which is an excellent local rehab facility just one county over. He was getting ready to go in, hoping five times was a charm when it came to getting clean. He called me, knowing that there would be no means to communicate for the next thirty days, but he felt it important that I know he was taking the step.
He told me that he was doing this for himself, but more than anything, he hoped that I would be the one who truly benefited from it in the long run.
They were the perfect words and something in the tone of his voice made me think he could do it this time around.
But that is where the sun set and dark clouds rolled in on me. Dramatic, I know, but that’s exactly how it felt.
Alex flew back into town from his game road trip, which followed on the heels of his father showing up at his apartment unexpectedly. I never did get to see Alex on Christmas Eve, but he called to tell me what was going on, and that his dad had left rehab early. He sounded stressed and I did my best to reassure him that there was a chance his dad would be okay. In my mind I knew chances were that he’d relapse, since he had not finished the program, but I didn’t want to worry Alex further.
So I wished him a merry Christmas, told him I loved him, and wished him good luck on his upcoming games. He thanked me quietly for the well wishes, ignoring the words of love I gave him.
I remember giving myself a once-over in the bathroom mirror before he arrived that night, snickering to myself. My eyes were bright and dancing with eagerness to see Alex, and I almost could imagine what a junkie must feel like right before he gets his next hit.
My doorbell rang and I almost squealed in delight, but I didn’t, because I was a mature professional woman. However, that didn’t stop the mile-wide grin that was on my face as I practically ran down the hall and into the living room.
Skidding to a halt at the door, I took a deep breath and opened it up.
And yes, he was just as breathtaking as ever. More so, if you took into account I hadn’t seen him in four days—unless you count hungrily watching him on TV. We had talked on the phone, not often because he’d said he was so busy between travel, games and practices, but enough to keep me primed and ready. If he seemed a little distracted or distant, I chalked that up to the incredible stress he was under. Between not playing up to par and his dad leaving rehab early, I knew he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his massive chest. “I missed you.”
He gave me a light squeeze and then released me, stepping past me into the house. In my line of work, perception is key, and I immediately sensed a tense energy surrounding Alex. I quietly closed the door and turned to face him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, not even needing the nervous look on his face to confirm my suspicions just based on that one, perfunctory hug.
“Nothing,” he said hastily.
Way too hastily, and the fact he wouldn’t quite meet my gaze head-on caused warning bells to start a five-alarm chorus.
“Alex,” I said softly and took a step toward him with my arm reaching out. “What’s wrong?”
He took a short step back, and then turned away from me, raking his fingers through his dark hair. His shoulders were tense as he walked over and sat on the couch. “Actually, I guess we need to talk.”
Alex turned his body on the couch so when I took the seat next to him he was facing me. He laid an arm across the back of the sofa, putting his hand near my head. I was heartened briefly when he reached out and stroked his fingertips across my hair, and equally saddened when he moved them away.
“You’re kind of scaring me here,” I tried to tease but it came out all panicked and needy.
His eyes rose to meet mine and they were sad and just a tiny bit aloof.
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” he began and my stomach started to knot. “About us. About my career…my dad. Just a lot of shit has been processing in my head.”
“You’ve had a lot of stress on you,” I agreed, reaching out to rub my fingers on his knee.
His gaze dropped from my mine, and he watched my fingers play absently on his denim-covered leg. He had an almost pained look—which never left his face—when he decided to look at me again.
“I think I have too much on my plate. And it’s affecting how I play. I’ve lost my focus and it’s really starting to bother me that I’m letting my team down.”
My words were measured and careful. “I can see that.”
Alex gave me a small smile and then scooted forward on the couch so he was sitting on the edge of the cushion. This effectively dislodged my hand and the loss of contact with him left me cold. He braced his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging down loose as he stared at the floor. Giving a helpless sort of laugh, he said, “The ironic thing is…you’re the one that got me loving the game again. It’s solely to your credit that I even give a shit that I’m letting my team down.”
He turned his face toward me, giving that sad smile again. “You…who knew nothing about the game of hockey, about what it takes to really make it in this league. The girl who had to Google what a hat trick was. You renewed my spirit when it came to playing hockey.”
With his words trailing off, Alex faced forward again to stare at the floor.
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there,” I prompted. I needed him to say it because I could already tell by the dejected tone in his voice and the defeated body language what was coming next.
“But,” he picked up where I left off, “I think you may be the one who’s distracting me from my game.”
Okay, so that’s maybe not where I thought the conversation was going. I sensed that I was in the middle of what was going to be a very painful breakup, but I didn’t think Alex would blame his poor play on me. If anything, I thought he’d say this was moving too fast, or that he simply wasn’t ready for a committed relationship.
The fact that he seemed to be laying his woes on my doorstep sort of pissed me off, so I know my words came out harsher than I meant them to. “You seriously can’t be blaming me for your poor stats.”
“It’s not blame, Sutton,” he said apologetically while turning to face me again. “It’s about distraction.”
“Distraction?” I asked, a tad shrilly as I stood up from the couch. “You call what we have…what we’ve done…what we’ve meant to each other a distraction?”
Sitting back up, Alex rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. You’re twisting it.”
“Well, make it clearer to me.” I put my hands on my hips and glared down at him.
Standing up slowly from the couch, he took a step toward me but made no move to touch me.
Instead, he placed his hands in his pockets. “I have a lot of stuff going on in my life right now. A career that could be on the verge of collapsing, a sick, alcoholic father and—”
“Me,” I provided for him angrily. “You have me. To support you, to help you out, to love you. But you don’t see me like that, do you?”
“I just—” he started to say, but I had heard enough.
“Say it, Alex,” I taunted him. “Tell me you don’t love me, because you sure as hell never said the words to me, despite the fact I’ve given them to you along with my heart. Tell me that I’m just a distraction and that you think I’m hurting your precious career.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to say!” he shouted at me, pulling his hands out of his pockets and throwing them out to the side helplessly.
“Then what are you trying to say?” I asked desperately, tears pooling in my eyes. “Because this is a breakup, right, Alex? This is all leading to us going our separate ways tonight, right?”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he looked at me apologetically. “Yes, that’s where it’s going.”
Turning my back on him, I looked blankly at my fireplace, and when I blinked, the first rush of wetness slid down my cheeks. I wiped at it quickly with the back of my hand.
“Well…at least you’re honest,” I mutter.
“Painfully so,” he murmurs sadly.
“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice quavering. “I thought we had something special.”
Walking up behind me, Alex put his hands on my shoulders and leaned in to kiss me on the top of my head. His voice was soft but the ringing tone of finality pierced my eardrums. “It was special, Sutton. Very special. But I need to get my focus back, and the only way I can think to do that is by taking a break from you right now.”
Turning around to face him, I asked incredulously, “Take a break? Sort of the way Brandon wanted to take a break from me? So he could go sow his wild oats? What? You want to go live out your career while being single, so you don’t miss out on a damn thing with an anchor tied around you?”
Alex blinked at me in surprise and I could tell he never once considered the similarity between what he was doing and what Brandon did. This infuriated me even more, so I really let him have it.
“You’re a coward, Alex,” I told him, a small sob bursting out of my mouth. “You’re too afraid to take the risk that something might actually be really good for you. You’re too scared to step outside of the little, protected, f*cked-up world that your dad created for you, and really take a chance at love. You’re so much of a coward, you gladly use me as your scapegoat, when what really is going on is that you’re still just that sad and scared little boy that your dad twisted years ago.”
My breaths were shallow and I’d worked myself up to a simmering rage. Alex was starting to get angry as evidenced by the splotches of red on his cheeks.
Pointing a finger at me, he said, “You don’t know what it was like—”
“Save it,” I cut him off. “I know more than you think I do, so you can’t bullshit me. I’m not saying it’s easy to overcome, Alex, because it’s not. It’s f*cking hard as hell. But you know how you overcome it?”
He stared at me blankly for a moment then shook his head.
“You overcome it by hard work. By not giving up. By striving for something better. You learn to forgive and move on, and you learn from your pain. You don’t let it control you, and you certainly don’t hide from it.”
Alex’s gaze fell to the floor, and I could tell by the way his shoulders sagged that my words hit home. I waited for that crucial moment, where maybe he would decide to accept the challenge I laid on his doorstep, and start putting his life back together. I waited hopefully for him to realize that a shot at love is worth the hard work and pain.
Instead, he turned his back on me and walked to the door. I had to restrain myself from calling out to him. When he opened the door, he hesitated for just a moment, then said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
He never looked back before walking out of my house and out of my life.
—
Blinking hard, I try to dispel the sad memories as I stare at my computer screen. It’s almost time for lunch and I didn’t bring anything to eat, so I need to run out. The only problem is, I’m not very hungry. I’d rather gorge on and choke down my own pity party, which has kept me surprisingly full the last few weeks.
The phone on my desk rings and I pick it up. I’m at a complete loss for something cool to say as usual, so I just answer, “This is Sutton.”
“Of course it’s Sutton,” Minnie says with exasperation. “I dialed your extension.”
Yeah, Minnie has had enough of my moping around, I can tell. So, I make my voice just a bit more cheerful. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“You have a hockey god out here to see you.”
My pulse flutters wildly at the prospect that Alex has come to see me, but then Minnie brings me crashing down when she says, “A Mr. Garrett Samuelson. Wants to know if you got some time for him.”
Letting out a pent-up breath of disappointment, I say dejectedly, “Sure. I’ll be right out.”
***
“It’s uncanny, really,” Garrett says as he takes a huge bite of pizza and gazes at me across the table.
“What’s that?” I say, fiddling with my crust but making no effort to take a bite. Garrett’s visit was a complete surprise. He suggested we get a bite to eat, so we came to this local pizza joint just a few blocks from my office.
“That ‘someone kicked my puppy’ look both you and Alex seem to be wearing these days. It sort of brings me down.”
Glaring at him across the table, I say, “I’m sorry to be ruining your mood.”
He shrugs his shoulders and grins at me. “Just sayin’.”
“Why are you here, Garrett?” I ask tiredly.
Setting his slice of pizza down and wiping his hands with his napkin, he leans across the table, resting his forearms on the cracked Formica top. “Because I’m worried about Alex. He won’t tell me what happened, just that you broke up.”
“That’s true enough. Well, he broke up with me. I didn’t seem to have a say-so in it.” My words are brittle and I can’t even bring myself to make the effort to lighten the mood.
“Well, he made a mistake,” Garrett says as he sits back and picks up his pizza.
“Then why aren’t you having this conversation with him?”
“I intend to,” he says with a wicked smile. “I just wanted to talk to you and see how much groveling he’d have to do to win you over.”
I blink in surprise, because surely there is no way in hell that Alex Crossman, Most Valuable Prick, would ever grovel to a woman. Besides, I don’t want him to grovel. I don’t find that attractive.
What I would kill for, though, is for him to realize that he was wrong. That letting me go—letting us go—was wrong. I’d be happy with a few simple words telling me that exact thing.
“He doesn’t have to grovel,” I voice my thoughts out loud. “I’m not that type of woman.”
“Glad to know it,” he says around a mouth full of food.
“It’s moot anyway. Alex doesn’t believe this was a mistake. He believes he needed to do this for the benefit of his career.”
“Bullshit,” Garrett says loudly and I look quickly around to see if anyone is looking. I mean, outside of the ordinary stares we got when a Cold Fury hockey player walked into this little restaurant.
Lowering my voice, so he’ll follow suit, I say, “Why is that bullshit?”
“Because I believe you were one of the best things to happen to him. You got him playing better than ever and loving the game again. I’m not blind or stupid.”
“Again, doesn’t matter what you think or what I think…it’s what Alex thinks.”
“It will matter once I get done with him,” he says slyly.
Reaching across the table, I lay my hand on his forearm and when I have his full attention, I say firmly, “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? Leave him be. He made this decision because it gave him some peace of mind, and it’s not up to you or me to take that away from him.”
“Don’t you still love him?” he asks skeptically.
“Of course I do.”
“Then just shut up and let me work my magic.”
“I’m not playing around, Garrett,” I say, leaning across the table and digging my fingers into his arm. “It’s not meant to be.”
“Whatever,” he says, almost in a pout-like way.
“I’m serious. This is my life. Promise me you won’t say anything to Alex.”
Garrett stares at me a moment, the look on his face going eventually from annoyance to acceptance. “Fine.”
“You swear?”
“Every f*cking day,” he says with a wink.
“Garrett,” I warn.
“Fine. I swear. I won’t say anything to Alex.”