Page 160 of Off The Ice

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I assured her. “I just can’t believe you’re talking to me about a hockey game right now.”

“It’s important to you,” she protested.

“You’re important to me,” I said, reaching up to touch her cheek. “Don’t you know that?”

She pressed her eyes shut, leaning into the palm of my hand. When those blue eyes opened, they were blinking back tears.

Fuck, I loved those eyes.

“Did I mess everything up with us?” she asked.

“No, baby,” I told her, “Not even close.”

I wanted to tell her that we could take things at her pace. That everything was going to be okay, and we would work out everything together because honest to God, I couldn’t imagine a life without her in it anymore.

But as I opened my mouth to tell her that, another doctor approached, pulling her attention away from me. I couldn’t begrudge him for it. Right now, her mom was our priority.

“Cassie?” It was the same one from before. “Your mother’s a bit more lucid now. She wanted to speak to you.”

Cassie stood up, looking at me as if it pained her to leave the same way it did me. Maybe she was just scared of going to see her mom. But I knew from the determined set of her shoulders that this was something she wanted to face alone.

“I’ll be waiting right here. I promise,” I told her.

She nodded, offering me a smile, and then she was gone.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Cassie

The sun was rising, filling my mom’s room with a soft amber glow that made me feel like everything was really going to be okay.

Liam was there. My mother was alive. And I was going to be there to help her through her recovery.

“Hi, baby.” She smiled up at me as if nothing were the matter with her at all.

I wanted to cry, hearing her voice so lucid, seeing her smile without the lazy, drunken tilt to it.

“Mom.” I beamed, sitting beside her. “You’re okay.”

I hugged her, squeezing tight while being careful of the wires still connected to her.

“These pesky things.” She laughed, scrunching her nose up as if they were an inconvenience rather than the reason she was alive.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, and though her face was pale and her body still far too thin for comfort, she looked alive. And that was good enough for me.

“You have no idea how worried I was,” I told her with a huge exhale. “This time was really bad, Mom.”

“I know, baby,” she said. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I wiped away a tear. Everything was really going to be fine. I looked around to the bedside table where I’d left the pamphlets that the doctor had given me.

“So, the doctors were telling me about some really good programs that you can go to once you’re strong enough—”

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