Page 69 of Broken Ice, Mended Hearts

“Câlice!I’ll be worn out after the game. It’ll be the same fucking shit we’ve been doing, which is not a lot.”

“Your game’s at two o’clock, isn’t it? You should be back at the hotel by seven, which is only ten o’clock here. Like I said, we can also talk Saturday morning before your game.”

“Fuck that. Shuford will want us at the arena by ten-thirty, which will mean being on the bus at nine-forty-five.”

“We’ll talk before you get on the bus.”

He was quiet for too long, and when he spoke, his voice was even louder than before. “You’re so caught up in your own little golf-game world you aren’t even thinking. You guys are playing in McLean, where Drew lives?”

“Yes.”

“Goddammit, if your tee time is at eleven, you’ll have to leave by ten. That’s seven-fucking-o’clock here. You expect me to get up in the middle of the night to talk to you and then play a fucking hockey game that afternoon?”

Damn it, I hadn’t done that math very well. “You’re right. I’m sorry, but we can talk all you want on Saturday night. Jack and Drew are in the same situation. They’ll be talking to Eckie and Cleevs Saturday night too.”

“This is bullshit, Sven.”

It was hard not to yell back, but I held it in the road. “No, it isn’t. I’ll be playing golf while you’re at the arena warming up and playing the game. We’ll talk afterward as soon as you’re free.”

“Maybe I should go out after the game and let you do whatever the hell is actually important to you.”

That was too much, and I yelled back at him. “That isn’t fair. We knew this wouldn’t be easy, and that we’d both have to give some to make it work.”

“So, give up your fucking golf game.”

“I don’t believe this. You want me to sit home alone while you’re completely unavailable? Is this a control thing?”

“Fuck you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk, Pip. I promise.”

“Yeah, right. You’ll get cornered again and won’t be able to talk at all.”

“You’re being unreasonable. I don’t want to sit home alone all day with nothing to think about except how goddamn much I miss you.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft. “I’m beat, so let’s talk tomorrow. This isn’t getting us anywhere. I miss you so much it’s making me crazy.”

“Me too. Do you really have to go now? We can talk about something else.”

“I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow morning, and I’ll call you then. Sleep well, babe.”

The connection went dead, and I stared out the window for a long time. I had a terrible feeling this wouldn’t end well.

He didn’t call until four-thirty the next afternoon, my time. He also ignored a message I sent. Since I’d been waiting around all day—ready to apologize, although I still wasn’t sure what to be sorry for—I wasn’t in the best of moods by the time my phone rang. I didn’t want to fight again, so I took a deep breath before clicking to accept his FaceTime request. He grinned, looking so handsome it fucking hurt, and I didn’t have it in me to say anything but, “Hi, Pip. It’s so good to see you.”

“God, I feel better just looking at you.” Our eyes locked, and he went on. “I’m sorry. I acted like a total jerk last night.”

He had, but I wanted to put it behind us. Unsure of what to say, I settled on, “I know you’re out-of-sorts because of our situation. I am too, and I’m sorry I upset you. I’ll cancel the game on Saturday and wait for you here.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t. Like you said, I was being unreasonable. It makes zero sense for you to sit there alone. If you swear we can talk after the game, I’ll be fine.”

“I promise. It’ll be good to talk without having to be so concerned about the time.”

“Want to talk more? I have a little while now.”

The next sentence rolled out of me before I could stop it. “We could have talked a long time if you’d called earlier.”

He glanced away from the phone, then turned his head back. “I…”

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