Page 131 of Keeping the Score

“I always had the feeling that you blame yourself for Trevor cheating on you. Because you worked so much.”

I suck on my bottom lip.

“Not that you were responsible,” she adds. “He’s an asswipe. But…” Her forehead creases. “Are you cutting back on your work to try to keep that from happening again?”

I look across the room. She’s right. I did blame myself. And I thought I was over that.Isthat why I’ve reduced my client list?

“Are you mad at me?” Elodie asks, forehead creased.

“No. No.” I turn back to her. “I’m seriously thinking about it, because it’s a good question.”

“Okay.”

“No. That’s not why I’ve reduced my workload. I know my workaholic tendencies were an attempt to boost my self-esteem. To make me feel like my goals mattered as much as Trevor’s. But I don’t feel like that with Ford. And I know that Trevor alone is responsible for his cheating. The truth is, it was really hard, working long hours when the team got into the playoffs, and then house hunting, and moving two places, selling our condos. Decorating this place.” I wave a hand. “I was looking at veterinary technologist programs, at community college. It’s not a veterinarian degree, but it’s a shorter program and I’d be working with animals.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I smile. “Ford encouraged me to look into schools, even if I wanted to become a Doctor of Veterinarian Medicine. He wanted me to have my dream. But I still love my work, and life is really full right now and…” I stop. And swallow past the catch in my esophagus. I meet her eyes. “And I love it. I love them.”

Elodie smiles and hugs me. “I’m happy for you, hon.”

I squeeze her back. “Thank you.”

She draws back. “But I can’t believe you sent clients to Haven!”

“She’s good at her job.” I pull condiments out of the fridge. “I’m over it all. Things haven’t worked out so well for her. I know it’s not my problem, but I feel bad for her. She’s a single mom and that’s not easy.”

“You’re a better person than I am.”

“Eh.” I shake my head. “No, I’m not.”

“Have you heard anything from her?”

“No. It doesn’t matter. Can you carry these out?” I indicate the tray of condiments, paper plates, cups, and cutlery.

“Sure.”

I pick up the tray of chicken breasts and we go back out.

Ford’s teammates are all yakking away, happy and relaxed. Most of them went away to other homes for the summer and are now returning to New Jersey as training camp starts in a couple of weeks. I think they had a good summer and a much-needed rest after grueling playoffs.

Ford was nominated for the Vezina Trophy, but he didn’t win. He didn’t win the Jennings Trophy either, which is awarded to the goalie with the fewest goals scored against him. I knew he’d be disappointed, and he was a bit, but his attitude about that has changed. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t work just as hard; he totally does. And he played fantastic in the playoffs. But that’s what matters to him—playing the best he can for histeammates and the fans. The awards are nice, but not the most important thing.

He smiles down at me when I set down the chicken. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi. You ready to cook?”

“With you?” He gives me a dirty smirk. “Always.”

“Haha.” I grin. “I know.”

He moves closer. “It’s not that I’m always horny,” he says in my ear. “It’s just that you’re always sexy.”

I look up at him through my eyelashes. “Sweet talker.”

“Just wait till later. I’ll sweet talk you out of your clothes and into bed.”

“Get a room,” Marek says to us, shaking his head.

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