By admin I scowl and mutter under my breath, “Shut the fuck up.”
Because I know the voice in my head isn’t wrong.
–
Lyle ugh. Even thinking his name makes my stomach twist. He’s the worst kind of beautiful disaster: the type that kisses you like you’re everything and forgets your name the next day. And I let him. I always let him. Like clockwork. He disappears, and I stay put. Waiting.
It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. But knowing doesn’t make the ache in my chest go away. Or the heat behind my eyes. Or the ridiculous fantasy where someone, anyone, loves me enough to stay.
I sling my bag over my shoulder, take one last look at the empty office, and sigh.
Then I walk out the door – quiet, tired, and still pretending I don’t care.
I’ve always been good at pretending I have it together.
–
I had to be. When your best friend is a walking, beautiful disaster – who’s constantly stumbling into messes and getting her heart cracked open you don’t get to fall apart too.
You learn to stay steady. You learn to carry both of you.
That’s why I never really told Em the full story about Lyle.
She had enough going on. Enough pain. Enough secrets clawing at her from the inside. The last thing she needed was mine. So I buried it. Smiled through it. Shrugged and said things like, “There’s this hockey player I keep sleeping with and I think I like him.”
And she’d give me one of her classic looks And she’d give me one
—
eyebrows raised, lips pursed, silently judging
me in the most loving way possible. Then she’d move on.
She never pried. Never asked for details. Which was both a blessing and a curse.
Because truth is? I wanted someone to ask. I wanted someone to see the way my chest ached when he left. I wanted someone to notice how quiet I got when Lyle didn’t text back. How I stopped wearing the perfume he liked. How I never really stopped waiting.
But instead, I just kept it light. Kept it vague. Kept it safe.
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1814 Thu 21 Au
Chapter 94
Because if I told her the truth waiting I know what she’d say.
She’d tell me I deserved more.
-how I kept letting him back in, how I was always the one
And I think a part of me still doesn’t believe that.
So when I walk into the rink – usually locked up tight by this time of night does this stupid little flip.
–
my heart
Lyle’s text is still open on my phone, bold and heartless: “Don’t wait up. Going home with
Tina.”
Cool. Awesome. Fantastic.
But then I see the rink door cracked open. The lights on. Ice freshly cleaned.
And for one second – just one I let myself hope.
—
Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he came here instead. Maybe he remembered I exist.
But nope. Of course not.
Because standing there, right in the middle of the rink like he owns the damn place, is Aaron freaking Cobalt.
Gliding across the ice like he’s in a music video or a dream I didn’t ask to be part of.
I can’t stop the scowl that pulls at my face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.
messy black hair, stupidly
Why is he always where I least want him, looking like that broad shoulders, and those green eyes that somehow see way too much?
God help me.
Aaron Cobalt is on ice,
And my night just got way more complicated.