Page 57 of Love Me Boldly

“We all thought you left. You vanished.”

“Things changed.” I shrugged and shuffled on my feet. And still, even all the years later, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what happened. Didn’t want to risk it getting back to Graham. But that was silly. It’d beenyears. My best friend Tracey still kept in contact with Graham’s friend, Tanner, and I knew he’d never said anything.

Still, I couldn’t open my mouth to say anything.

“You were here?” He shook his head. “Or in Deer Creek this whole time? Does Graham?—”

“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “It was really great seeing you, Eli. But I need to go.”

Jonah was at a hockey camp. The day he told me he wanted to learn to play, my heart broke a little bit. I’d do anything for him, though, even sitting through all his Mini-Mite games, cheering him on with my whole heart, while half my mind was on the past. The past that was now standing in front of me.

I needed togo.

“Miss Jones?”

I turned at the sound of my name. One of Dr. Myers’s nurses headed toward me. She gave Eli a cursory glance before holding out a card for me.

My heart stalled. Not for what she was about to say, but for who was listening.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Myers wanted you to have this.” She held out a small card.

I took it like a snake waiting to strike my inner wrist. “Okay…”

“It has her cell. She said to tell you if you need to talk, or if you’re worried, call her personal phone while you wait for your biopsy results to come in.”

“Biopsy?” Eli asked. His glance at the nurse or me wasn’t cursory. “What’s going on, Holly?”

His tone was too thick, suddenly too worrisome.

If only there was a bridge nearby, one with a large amount of space between water and cement.

Thank you,” I managed to mumble.

I shoved past Eli and rushed toward the stairs. Screw the elevator.

I needed to get out of there. Away from Eli, away from the past that haunted me every day, and away from the fear of the future that was coming.

Fortunately, footsteps didn’t follow me.

Just the constant thumping in my own brain reminding me that for me, life would always suck, always be hard, and there was nothing I could do to escape it.

EIGHTEEN

GRAHAM

Man, I hated being back in this place. It’d been over six years since I stepped foot into the skating arena at NWCU, but there I was, skating across the ice and spending the last of a three-day hockey camp helping kids ages five to twelve work on their hockey playing skills. Dribbling the puck, shooting, and playing defense, we were doing it all, and while I always felt at peace on the ice, being back on campus brought the opposite.

After hearing some of the attitudes of the older kids when we first got started, their cocky little backtalk that bordered on completely disrespectful to adults, I’d chosen to spend my time with the younger group of kids. Which was why I was currently working with a small group of five- and six-year-olds on their passing drills. They skated to the front of the line and passed me the puck. The second time through, I was moving, and they had to pass it to me, guessing where I’d be.

One of the boys skated to the front. I’d had my eye on him for a full three days. He was always smiling behind his cage guard and encouraged every other kid who did something well. He had a great attitude, large dark eyes, and gear that had most likely come from a secondhand store or had been handed down through a handful of kids. His skates were old, laces fraying, and from the way his ankles kept turning in when he skated, it was clear they’d lost strength.

He was good, though. And quick. If he had the proper skates he’d be even better.

“Nice pass, kid,” I told him as he smacked it right into my stick. “That was really good.”

“Thank you, sir.” He skated back to the line, and I passed the puck to the next kid in line.

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