Page 294 of Cross Check

I tried to be optimistic about things changing and looking different, but I’m brokenhearted, alone, and I can’t find the light at the end of the tunnel.

This is my fate now, and I have to accept that for the next however many years Grant and I spend in the league, we can’t be together.

We’re over. The chapter is closed, and I doubt I’ll ever open that book again.

I might fucking burn it instead.

I pass under street lights and stare straight ahead, wondering if it’s possible to go numb to things at a certain point. Am I desensitized to the pain now? In two months, will the dust settle? Will I move on to the next thing in life, and the heartbreak will become a thing of the past?

I didn’t want to make the drive out here today, but I need to grab the last of my things so I don’t have to ever come back. Sighing, I cut the ignition in the driveway and climb out of the car. I pull the hood of my rain jacket over my head, trying to stay dry.

The walk to the front door feels like I’m confronting old ghosts, and when I push the key in the lock and step inside, I swear every good memory I’ve shared with Grant over the last seven years flashes in front of me like a horror film.

The first night we met. His floppy hair and his tattoos—a star, a badger, an hourglass—that are all for me. The winks he tossed me at games and when we first kissed. Dancing in the kitchen and the horrible casserole we burnt one night down in the deep days of December when it was freezing outside.

I’ve held it together for a month. I’ve stayed composed and professional while thousands of eyes have been on me, but right now, in the quiet of the cemetery of a love that I lost, in a love that I’m going to grieve until my dying days, every emotion I’ve kept locked up breaks free.

A sob wretches its way out of my chest. I’m swarmed by anger, resentment, frustration, and disappointment. So many feelings—too many feelings—for how much all of this hurts, and I don’t wipe the tears away as I march down the hall.

I’m strong in so many other parts of my life, and I’m allowed to be broken and lost in here. No one will ever see. No one will ever hear, and for a second, I can be weak. I can mourn the man I loved so deeply, unsure if I’ll ever be put back together in his absence.

I won’t.

Who could ever compare to him?

My job will have to be enough, because I can never give myself to anyone ever again.

The house is empty. The air is desolate and broken. There’s no laughter, no joy. Grant must have been by at some point, because there’s less stuff than when I snuck in last week. There’s no hockey stick above the fireplace in the living room. His coats are gone, his shoes have disappeared, and for some reason, losing those inconsequential, familiar parts of him hurt more than anything else.

It’s an acknowledgment that he’s moving past all of this too. Carrying on with his life in a way I know was bound to happen, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.

With a deep sigh and an ache in my bones that won’t go away, I step into my office. I take the jerseys off the wall and tuck the frames under my arm. I move back toward the hall, stopping in my tracks when I hear the front door open and snick closed. I pause, straining to hear who it might be, and after years of knowing him, I’m well aware that the footsteps moving through the foyer are Grant’s.

I don’t know what the hell to do.

Hide?

Panic?

Sneak out of here like we didn’t spend years together so I don’t have to confront him face-to-face?

There’s no time to make a decision, because he’s in the hall. He’s feet away from me, freezing mid-step and gazing my way.

“Lia,” he breathes out, and my world screeches to a halt.

“Hi,” I whisper.

It’s my first time seeing him this close since we decided to split up, and I wish it wasn’t.

Every logical thought I’ve had about staying away slips from my mind when he walks toward me. He’s close enough to touch, but I keep my hands to myself. I’m too afraid that if I don’t, I’ll do something like reach for him. I’ll pull him close and whisper I love you, I love you, I love you over and over again until my broken and battered heart can’t take it anymore.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I would have stayed away if I did.”

“I was trying to be quick. I wanted to grab my jerseys.” I gesture to the large frames. “Didn’t want to leave them behind.”

“I was grabbing the last of my things too.”

“Guess that’s it, huh?”