Page 105 of You Had Me at Hockey

“So,” I say. I roll my eyes. “Coach talked to you too?”

“Yeah.” His mouth tightens. “And he’s right. We aren’t communicating on the ice like we need to.”

“Yeah.”

“You can hate my guts, but you have to put that aside.”

“I don’t hate your guts,” I say tiredly. “But yeah.”

“Sure sounded like it the other night.”

I shake my head, frowning. “When did I say that? I told you how I felt.”

“No, you didn’t.”

I frown. “What?”

“You accused me of deserting you.” He shakes his head. “Okay, I can interpret that to mean you felt deserted. But you didn’t really tell me how you felt.”

I think back. I was pissed that night and I don’t remember my exact words. “I guess I did feel deserted,” I say slowly.

“You know that makes it all about you?”

My frown intensifies. “What the fuck?”

He meets my eyes. “We all went through hell, Josh.”

He used my real name, which means this is serious shit. “I know.”

“Do you? It sounded like you hadn’t really thought much about anyone else but yourself and how miserable you were.”

I open my mouth to defend myself again, then slowly close it.

He has a point.

All these years, I’ve held on to my own suffering. I knew in my head that others had been impacted too, but now shame crawls over my skin.

“I’m not saying you didn’t have a right to be miserable.” Easton holds up a hand. “Obviously you did. I knew you’d been busted up pretty bad, but I was dealing with my own shit too.” He tips his head back briefly, then meets my eyes. “I felt…the same. I didn’t blame you, but fuck…I lost my brother, my dad, then my mom. My whole team. And my best friends.” He meets my eyes and my gut churns at his words. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

My throat thickens. I keep my face sternly impassive, my body tense. My thoughts bounce around in my head. He just said he’s sorry. All these years I’ve nursed the bitterness inside me, blaming him and Hunter for abandoning me when I was so low. Nobody can change what happened. But…hearing him acknowledge that he hadn’t been there for me and that he was sorry…and knowing hecouldn’tbe there…makes me feel like shit.

I thought I’d feel better if I heard that from him.

Instead, he’s making me look inside myself and see that I was selfish too. I never thought much about what he or Hunter were going through. I just wallowed in self-pity.

I nod, trying to swallow. “Fuck, man. I’m sorry too.” That’s all I can get out for a moment, so it’s good that our lunches arrive. I pretend I’m fine, arranging my cutlery, letting the waitress refill my water glass. I stare down at the bowl in front of me, not even sure what I’m looking at.

Then I lift my eyes and try again. “Iwasselfish,” I admit. “At first I was too out of it from the head injury and the surgeries. I knew Bryce and your dad had died. I didn’t know about your mom. I’m sorry.”

He nods. “We were kids. Teenagers.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you either,” I add quietly.

“You were in the hospital.”

“I could have done something.Icould have tried to callyou. I thought of it, a few times, but…I felt like, what was the point. I was messed up. I didn’t have the energy.”

“I get it. I do.”

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