Page 17 of Fake Shot

Honestly, she has always been a bit of an enigma. As a kid, she loved any moment of my attention, but as an adult, she’s always kept me at a distance. She’s endlessly sarcastic and clearly disapproves of my reputation, but ... I don’t know. I like that she doesn’t give a shit what people think of her. It’s something we have in common.

“Anyway,” she says before I have a chance to respond, “this isn’t about me and my issues. So, tell me about your brother.”

Fuck.

I glance down then, realizing that I’m still holding her wrist. Clinging to it is more like it. I let it go so quickly it’s almost like I push her away. She takes it in stride, though, sliding her hand into her back pocket, her elbow jutting out to the side where it’s bent. In the light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, I can see the little pieces of her arm hair standing on end, like she’s cold—but with the power turned off and no air-conditioning, it’s sticky-hot in here.

“My brother ...” The pause stretches indefinitely as I run through the million ways I could finish that sentence. But I don’t want to share everything and I sure as hell don’t want to talk about Cheri. “We were really close growing up. But after I left for the NHL, he did something that broke my trust and forever ruined our relationship.”

She searches my face, looking for clues, and it’s a relief when she gives me a quick nod, like she understands I don’t want to give any specifics about what he did. “Forever is a really long time.”

“Yeah ... I know.” I’m a pretty open and trusting guy. I generally try to see the best in people. But if you fuck with me—if you break my trust or go back on your promises—I’m not big on giving second chances.

I know the old adage is,fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.But I’ve never understood why you’d give someone a chance to fool you a second time. I’d rather live by the philosophy,when people show you who they really are, believe them.And Gabriel showed me who he really was.

“I’m not saying that you should forgive someone who broke your trust.” She says the words slowly, with a caution that tells me she’s really thinking about how to say this. It’s so at odds with the ‘Jules has no filter’ refrain I often hear from her siblings. “But ... couldn’t you still go home to see your parents, and just not see your brother?”

My parents didn’t side with Gabriel. But they also didn’t side with me. And I didn’t make them choose, as I imagine that choosing between your own children is the kind of thing that would break a person. I know they spoke to us individually, letting me know that what happened wasn’t my fault, and letting him know that what he did wasn’t okay.

But as soon as their grandson came along, it sure seemed like all was forgiven. How could it not be? And how could I expect that they’d cut Gabriel and Cheri out of their lives when there was a child involved? Even if, for a very brief time, I thought that growing baby was mine.

“My parents and I have worked out a system for seeing each other. It’s fine.” I even see my nephew occasionally, when they bring him down to Boston with them for a game. He might be the reason I lost my girlfriend and my brother in one fell swoop, but he’s blameless. I don’t think he even knows the history, which is for the best. “But now my brother wants me to come home for my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

“Fiftieth?” Her jaw drops open.

“Yeah, they got married right out of high school, then struggled to have kids. Gabriel wasn’t born until they were married for almost ten years, and they had me four years later.”

“Fifty years, and you’re not sure if you’re going up for that?” She sounds like she’s trying to comprehend why I would miss it.

“My parents are theonlypeople in my hometown I want to see. And I do see them. I don’t want to go to some big party.”

“I get that,” she says, then takes a deep breath. “I really do. But half of life is showing up, Colt. Sometimes you have to be there for the people you love. Even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t want to ... even when it hurts.” Her eyes are glassy again, and I wonder about all the ways she’s sacrificed and shown up for the people she loved in the past.

“I don’t know what happened between you and yourbrother,” she continues, “and I’m not trying to diminish how big of a deal it was. But think about what it would mean to your parents to have you there for this special occasion.”

I know she’s right.

This shouldn’t still affect me this much, because I’ve moved on. But in my mind, part of moving on meant never having to see that backstabbing asshole again.

I created the space I needed to heal from what Gabriel and Cheri did, and today, they no longer mean anything to me. And yet, I continue to let them influence my decisions about what I do now, fifteen years after the fact.

It would mean the world to my parents to have me there.Why can’t I be the bigger person and just show up? It’s only for one night.

“I’ll think about it,” I say.

“You don’t have to forgive in order to forget, Colt.” She studies me intently. “You just make the choice to move on.”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding my chin toward the entryway to indicate we should go. “Maybe.”

Chapter Seven

JULES

Icome downstairs wearing the dark blue sundress I bought for today and Colt side-eyes me when I walk into the kitchen to grab my keys and purse.

“What?” I ask, wondering why I still let his teasing comments and disapproving looks get to me.

“Nothing,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “You just seem ... dressed up.”

---