Page 87 of Perfectly Faked

He reaches across the table, gently tipping my chin up until my eyes meet his. “I can see the hesitation in your eyes,” he says softly. “Don’t overthink it. Just go for it, and I’ll figure out a way to move closer to you. This is everything you’ve wanted—you’ll finally be on your own and your parents won’t be breathing down your neck anymore. This is your chance.” He smiles faintly, his thumb brushing my jaw.

I shake my head. “That was when I was trying to get away from my parents—before you. And you told me nothing madeyou happier than playing for the Crushers. How could you think of leaving?”

He shrugs. “Professional hockey is all about moving around. You can’t get too comfortable in one place.”

His answer leaves me hollow. I might be getting what I wanted, but it feels like I’m taking away Leo’s life—the things that make him happy. The things that make himLeo.

“But this is only for a year, at most,” I remind him. “You can keep playing for the Crushers, and we’ll see each other when we can.”

The light in his eyes slowly dims. “But we hardly see each other now, and we’re living in the same house.”

My mouth opens, but before I can say anything, his phone rings. He glances at the screen, his brow creasing. “It’s Tina’s number. Hang on.” He stands, walking back into the house to take the call.

I sit there, staring at the empty space where he’d been. I knew this happy bubble I was living in with Leo wouldn’t last forever. For so long, my dream of skating had been the only thing I cared about. But now I’ve realized I don’t want one thing anymore.

The back door creaks open, and Leo walks back outside. His face has lost its color, and instantly, I know something’s wrong. I can see the way his shoulders slump, the tight line of his jaw. Even after all these years away from him, I still know him better than anyone else.

“What is it?” I ask, standing.

“It’s Tina,” he says. “She was in a minor car accident tonight. She’s okay, but a little banged up. I need to go to the hospital. I’m so sorry to cut this short.” He glances at the table, at the half-eaten meal and everything left unfinished between us. Even though he tries to hide it, he’s clearly torn about leaving. “I’m sorry, Vic.”

“I’ll go with you,” I say without hesitation, gathering dishes from the table. “We can have dessert later.”

“Victoria,” he says. “You know how things go with Tina. This part of my life isn’t easy.”

“I know that,” I say, meeting his eyes. “And I still choose to go with you. You were there for me when my mom showed up. And now, I want to do the same for you.”

THIRTY-THREE

leo

“She was lucky not to have more injuries. She’s going to be okay, but her ankle’s pretty banged up,” the nurse says as we approach Tina’s room in the ER. She lies in bed, a bruise blooming across her cheek, her right ankle in a cast.

We sit on sterile plastic chairs in a beige waiting area outside her room, where nurses and doctors circle around us. A doctor finally stops, looking up briefly from the patient records he’s viewing on his tablet. “You’re waiting for news about Tina? We’re keeping her overnight for observation. She won’t be able to put weight on that ankle for quite some time. Does she have family who can care for her?”

“Just me,” I say.

“And did she tell you what happened?”

“Told me she clipped somebody’s mailbox, then crashed into that crabapple tree she’s always complaining about.” I don’t ask whether alcohol was involved—I don’t need to. The signs are all there, and I know better than to ask a question I already know the answer to. I move out of the way for a nurse pushing apatient’s wheelchair down the hall. “How long will her recovery take?”

He shakes his head. “Hard to say. Once she’s discharged, she’ll need some support at home,” the doctor replies. “Are you her next of kin?”

My lips press together. “Sort of.” I stop short of explaining the complications of our relationship. I’ve avoided acknowledging it for so long—pushed it into a corner of my life, and now, here it is, forcing its way back in.

I glance into Tina’s room, where she sleeps soundly, and wonder what I’m supposed to do. Why is this my responsibility when she made the choice not to take responsibility for herself?

“You don’t have to stay the night,” the doctor says. “The medicine we gave her will allow her to rest tonight. Might be best if you go home and get some sleep before she’s released in the morning.”

He leaves us alone, and I turn and lean my head against the wall, already feeling defeated. This was supposed to be our last special night together... and now this.

“I’m so sorry, Leo,” Victoria says. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, shaking my head. “If she needs help, I can’t just ignore it. But the timing is terrible since I just started playing again.”

Victoria hesitates for a beat. “I won’t go to Seattle right now. I’ll tell Peter no, and we’ll handle this together—until things are in a better place for you.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Absolutely not.”

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