Page 25 of From Ice to Home
“I know, sir,” I reply, clutching my cap in both hands. I can’t bear to think about being sent away without seeing her. “But it’s important. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
Before Pastor Mark can press me further, Mrs. Sanders appears from the hallway, holding a mug of coffee. Seeing her makes me think of Hannah, and what she might look like one day. They have the same blonde hair and the same smiling green eyes, and both of them radiate kindness in a way.
“Mark, who’s at the door—“ She stops short, her gaze landing on me. Her brows lift, but her smile is welcoming. “Well, this is a surprise.”
“Lucas says he needs to talk to Hannah,” Pastor Markexplains, stepping closer to his wife and taking the mug of coffee from her. His voice is still calm, but laced with unspoken questions.
Hannah’s mother looks between us, her motherly instincts kicking in. “Why don’t you come in, Lucas? You look like you’ve been driving all night.”
She’s not far off. Although I was lucky enough to get a flight, I still haven’t slept since yesterday.
Pastor Mark takes a second before giving me a smile—one that thankfully reaches his eyes too. He gestures for me to come inside. Essie is still lingering at the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed, her stare far less welcoming than her parents’. The smell of freshly baked bread and brownies fill the air and my stomach rumbles. Hannah’s mom has always had the ability to make a place smell like home. After my mom passed, she fed me like I was one of her own. She always made sure to send food home too, for Dad and Noah.
For a moment I stand in the foyer, not sure where to go from here.
“We’re all heading out to the campsite in a few minutes,” Pastor Mark says, making his way down the hallway that leads to the large family room and kitchen. “You’re more than welcome to join us up there if you want? I’m sure the kids would love to see their local hero in the flesh.”
He looks over his shoulder, making sure I follow him.
“As fun as that sounds I don’t think I’ll be able to,” I manage. “I have to be back in New York this time tomorrow. It’s just a quick visit.”
Mrs. Sanders gives me a quick, appraising glance, her warm smile softening the tension. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute while I grab you something to eat?” she asks as we step into the kitchen. The familiarity of the house hits me in the chest. I half expect to find Hannah sitting at the kitchen table, a book in front of her, her golden hair falling over her shoulder.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, though I don’t think I’ll be able to eat a bite.
Essie retreats from the kitchen, but not before stealing a last glance in my direction. I’m sure she’s heading upstairs to tell Hannah I’m here…or to warn her.
Pastor Mark leans against the kitchen counter, folding his arms. “So, Lucas. Want to tell us what’s so important it brought you all the way back to Georgetown in the middle of the playoffs?”
“Mark…” Mrs. Sanders gently chides, placing a steaming cup of coffee down in front of me, followed by a freshly baked cinnamon roll.
I shift uncomfortably. “I’d really like to talk to Hannah first, if that’s alright.”
Pastor Mark’s eyes narrow slightly, but not in anger…rather contemplation. His protective instincts as a father are obvious. His wife places a gentle hand on his arm, giving him a small knowing smile.
“Fair enough,” he says finally. “But I hope you’re not bringing bad news, or trouble, to her. It’s been a while since you’ve been in this house, but we all remember how Hannah struggled after you left.”
His words hit me harder than they probably should, especially hearing that Hannah had a rough time after we broke up. I never spoke to her or saw her. How was I supposed to know that she took it so hard when she was the one who ended things?
I hold his gaze. “That’s not my intention, sir. I just want to make things right.”
The sound of footsteps on the stairs draw all our attention. My heart stumbles when Hannah walks into the kitchen. Her long blonde hair is still damp, like she just stepped out of the shower. She’s wearing a loose camp T-shirt over denim shorts, her feet bare and silent on the tiles. Herexpression shifts from confusion to something entirely unreadable.
“Lucas…” Hannah’s eyes are wide, her voice soft and anxious. Essie is behind her, her attention razor focused on the two of us. “What are you doing here?”
I get up from my seat, careful not to bump the table when I do so. Essie looks between us, like she’s waiting for some kind of bomb to explode. Her expression is a mix of curiosity and sympathy as she looks between the two of us. Talking in front of her entire family is not ideal, but if this is the only chance I’ll get—I’m going to take it.
“I had to see you, Hannah,” my voice sounds too desperate to my own liking, and I clear my throat. “We have things we need to talk about.”
She starts shaking her head, taking a step backward like she’s trying to create more space. “Not now,” she says, refusing to meet my gaze. “I have to finish getting ready and then we have to go to the campsite. I’ll have to catch up with you some other time.”
Her words don’t make sense at all. How can she be so calm and dismissive? A week ago she held my hand like she never wanted to let go. She kissed me senseless on the Strip. She stood in front of me, made vows with me, married me.
And now she can’t even look at me.
“Are you serious right now, Sanders?” My tone is a bit sharp, but the unbelief and frustration has reached its level. “I couldn’t find you for a week, and now you want to bail on me again?”
Hannah’s gaze slips to her father for a second and my jaw tightens. We’re not going to be able to have a meaningful discussion about this if she hasn’t even told her family yet. The feelings swirling around inside of me feels strange to the usual confidence I carry when on the ice. When I’m playing, I know who I am and what my role is. My next move, my goal—it allmakes sense. But right now? I have no idea who I need to be, who she wants me to be. I’m not just her ex-boyfriend anymore, I’m her husband. Hersecrethusband.
