Page 91 of Dirty Puck

She called us his family again.

Inflicting sadness upon my confused heart. It’d felt real for a while now. It was real for me. But Reece never made any sweeping declarations of love. Our time together, despite how happy he seemed, was rapidly drawing to a close.

And I knew then, I had to start pulling away. I’d never meant to stay. It was just supposed to help her. Help him. Now here I was, too far in.

Losing another mother to cancer and another man to not giving a damn about me. But at least this time I still had Benny and Claudia. I wanted so badly to bethe onefor Reece, the woman he couldn’t imagine his life without. He wanted what he always wanted: Friendship and fucking.

I wish I’d considered this as a possible ending to our story before agreeing to his fake girlfriend terms, but then again, would it have changed anything? Maybe I would’ve reminded myself more often that this wasn’t real, but I’d still have gone through with it. For Benny. For Char. Even for Reece.

Benny and I started spending time at our apartment to reacclimate him to the place. An hour here or an hour there, after school pickups. There wasn’t a lot to do, most of our furniture was back at Reece’s place. My boy would go anywhere I took him, but I tried to make it fun, a game just for me and him. To shake things up. To give him time to adjust to not seeing Reece or Char. I didn’t tell Reece. Because I knew what he’d say to me. We’d made an agreement. His mom needed to think we were together until she passed, however long that was. She couldn’t know that this was all fake for him. A ruse to keep her happy in the time she had left. Yada, yada…

I’d never tell. God, I loved her.

But this had to end in a way that wouldn’t mess my boy up too badly.

We kept up our secret jaunts to the apartment for the next week and a half, and when we were at the house, we spent our time sitting with Char and Claudia. Reece only got me alone at night now. In the bedroom. This was the only way I could figure how to start redrawing those blurred lines.

And then, the call came.

In the juice aisle at the market, picking up organic apple juice Char could barely sip because she got her nutrients through the IV now. The nurse’s voice cracked.

“Ms. Michaels, we had to call paramedics. She’s en route to the ER.”

I nearly dropped my phone. Even though I’d been expecting this call, waiting on it, the crushing reality of the situation sort of threw me.

Most people might wonder why a woman receiving palliative care at home would be taken to the ER. This had always been part of the plan. Char’s idea. Reece loved his house but she knew he’d never be able to stay there if all he ever saw were visions of his mother’s lifeless body inside her room. Still taking care of him, even on her deathbed.

“Thank you,” I said automatically, even though nothing about that moment warranted gratitude.

I called Claudia. And then I did the thing I never wanted to do: I drove straight to the arena.

Reece was mid-practice. I saw him on the ice, stopping pucks with focus. I knew his phone was probably tucked away in the locker room. No way they’d let me out there, but I didn’t care.

I walked right onto the ice.

“Hey!” the coach yelled. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t be out here!”

I didn’t even flinch. “Do what you have to do,” I snapped. Then I cupped my hands and called out, “Baker!”

He turned, instantly alert.

And skated hard toward me. “Bree? What’s wrong?”

I blinked back tears. “I just got a call from the nurse. They couldn’t reach you. Your mom is at the hospital. We have to go.”

He turned pale. Like ghost-pale. Like he might pass out on the spot.

From behind us, Bishop skated up. “You got him?”

“I got him,” I said, already tugging Reece toward the exit.

We stopped by the locker room just long enough to shed his pads, slide on street shoes, and grab his keys. Reece turned to me. “We have to get Benny.”

“I don’t know if she’s conscious?—”

“She’ll want to see him.”

I nodded. Of course she would. And Benny would need this too. Closure was hard, but absence hurt more.

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