Page 19 of What If We Break?
BROOKLYN
Reece had been pacing back and forth between the bouncy house for the kids—which the adults used more than the kids—and the back porch for the past thirty minutes. I hadn’t seen him stop walking even once.
Each time I saw someone approach him to talk, Reece would shut down their attempts and continue to pace around.
Something was wrong with him, and I’d been trying to ditch my friends for a hot second now so I could talk to Reece, but I also didn’t want to seem rude.
Talking to Reece when he was upset—or vice-versa—would’ve led to us sneaking off to my bedroom to talk there and then we wouldn’t return until we were no longer covered in sweat from activities other than talking. Whatever was bothering the other person was usually fixed before our clothes came off, but it always ended with us naked.
We had to work on that; I knew that, and Reece definitely knew that as well.
After another thirty minutes, I finally left my friends to speak to Reece because I was sure if I hadn’t walked up to him, he would’ve continued to pace back and forth for another hour or two.
“Reece?” I said as I approached him. At the sound of my voice, Reece stopped and turned around, looking at me with tears glistening in his eyes.
“Brooke,” he choked out, closing the few steps between us. “You should be with your friends.”
My head shook as I reached for his hands, only then noticing he was holding a piece of paper. “What’s that?” I asked carefully as I saw a row of numbers that looked like a phone number.
“Anthony Gillis’ number,” he told me, blowing out a deep breath. “Colin’s agent.”
“Okay?” I looked back up, watching for signs of discomfort on his face as I slowly led my boyfriend over to the patio so we could take a seat. “Why do you have Colin’s agent’s number?”
I hated seeing Reece in distress, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He was always so strong and composed when there were other people around. Usually, he only showed his more negative emotions when it was just the two of us.
Seeing him upset shattered me. Every fiber of my being wanted to reach out and remove his pain and replace it with something joyful; I wanted to wipe away those unshed tears and bring a smile to his face.
“He gave it to me,” Reece told me, clutching my thigh as soon as we were seated. “Did you know Colin used our dad to get into the NHL?”
I nodded softly, though I was sure he didn’t notice because his eyes were on that piece of paper in his hand. “Dad mentioned it when I asked about why he quit the NHL to be a chef. I thought you knew, too.”
“I didn’t.”
“But that can’t possibly be why you’ve been pacing around the backyard for an hour, is it?”
A deep sigh drew from his lungs as he shook his head. “All my life I told myself that I had to work hard for my spot in the NHL, that I could never ask my dad or my brother for help because I didn’t want anyone to say I’m only good because of them.”
I rested my head against Reece’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
Perhaps we should’ve gone inside to avoid our family seeing this whole thing, but when I looked up, I realized that nobody was paying us any attention at all. It was a good thing though.
I knew how much his independence meant to Reece, how fiercely he fought to prove to himself and everyone else that he was good and not just because of his family. I could understand that he didn’t want to be justanotherCarter, but that he wanted to besomeone. Someone who wasn’t just part of a family legacy, someone who wasn’t just another shadow.
“Knowing that Colin used our dad’s connection to get ahead… it just makes me question everything,” Reece continued, his voice heavy with emotion. “Like, would it really be so bad if I called Anthony and asked for his help rather than rely on an agent who’s trying to sabotage my relationship? Would it really be so bad if I asked Dad to speak to the team managers or whoever’s in charge to secure me a spot with the Rangers?”
He kept on rambling for a little while, coming up with scenarios that were so unlikely that I had to fight the urge to laugh.
Eventually, Reece stopped talking, lifted his head, and looked right at me with expectation in his eyes. It was as if he was asking me to decide whether he should use his connections or keep trying on his own.
I couldn’t have possibly decided that for him.
“You’re not your brother, Reece,” I said softly, figuring he needed to hear this. “Colin thought it was best forhimto get the help, and I’m sure he was still proud of getting drafted by his dream team no matter how he got there. Your last name doesn’t define you or give you any talent. Even if you use your connections, without talent, not even the worst team in the NHL would want to draft you. You’re an amazing player because you worked hard for it, not because you’re a Carter. Whether you fight your way into the NHL or take the easy way out, it won’t matter because they’d draft you for how good you are on the ice, not because your family batted their eyes at the team owner and saidpretty please.”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging as the oxygen left his lungs. “What if I don’t ask for help and then fail? What if I’m not meant to make it on my own and then I fucked it up because I was too stubborn?”
I reached for his hand, intertwining our fingers. “Then not even asking for help would have gotten you a spot in the NHL. As I said, your performance on the ice and how much work you put into improving makes you a good player, not your last name. But sometimes getting help is a sign of strength, not weakness.”
Reece’s eyes softened as he looked at me and the downward-pulled lips slowly began to turn upward as my words finally seemed to settle. “Maybe I should call Anthony and just have a chat without signing any contracts or firing Pike.”
