Page 66 of Your Sharpest Edge
“My mommy made it,” he said.
The counselor looked back at me, and I shrugged.
I loved making clothes. It became a necessity to make the clothes gifted to us feel a little more modern. My job paid me well, but with childcare costs, medical bills that I still had to pay, and trying to get my mom back to the States so she could help me, everything was a little expensive these days.
Having a roommate was a blessing. Alina helped with her third of the rent, and we became quick friends. On the occasions when I needed a sitter last minute, she was always there to help out, so that’s why she’s Auntie Alina to us.
Damien’s shirt was made out of old basketball jerseys that I’d sewn together into a brand-new baseball tee.
“Dude. So cool.”
The guy reached out for a high five, and I gave him one as the ball slid past me. “Damien,” I laughed. “You threw it so far.”
The ball had slid down toward the edge of the field by the back fence. I didn’t want to get it and leave him alone, so I went to grab him, but the counselor stopped me. “You grab it. I’ll step in if that’s okay with you, little dude?”
Damien nodded, and I smiled at them before walking away to grab the stray baseball.
I pulled my ponytail tighter and walked down to the edge of the field.
“I cannot fucking believe it,” a guy said from behind me.
I didn’t quite recognize the deep voice, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t jump out of my skin because I’d been so far away from the crowd. So I grabbed the ball to use as protection if I needed it as I turned around.
I dropped the ball to the ground, my jaw dropping right along with it as I stared at one of my ex-husband’s old teammates. He had the brightest blonde curls I had ever seen. His hair was so bright it was almost silver in the sunlight.
“Dirks,” I breathed out.
I wouldn’t have ever forgotten him. We’d only officially met once, but he had come around the hospital a few times when I was still in OC to check on me when I kicked Alex out. But that’s not the reason I wouldn’t forget him. It was because after that first dinner we all had together, Dimitri thought that I had been looking at him in a different way.
God. Little did he know what I was actually doing and who I was really falling for...
“Hey, Stassi,” he replied, matching my tone. “It’s really fucking good to see you.”
Without another word, he pulled me in for a hug, and as my knees threatened to give out, I was grateful he was holding me. But this was the very reason I didn’t want to come when I heard the hockey players were going to be here. This very fucking reason was a reminder of a past that was so painful in so many different ways.
He let go as I grabbed his arm. “Hold on.”
He looked down and then nodded, holding my hand and guiding me over to the bench next to us.
I sat down, checking to make sure Damien was okay, and then looked back at Dirks.
“You’re walking.” He looked like he was in shock, and as I opened my mouth to respond, he shook his head. “Shit. Sorry. That was rude.”
The corners of my lips twisted into a smirk. “No.” I lifted my feet. “After about a year, once the trial was over, I was able to really focus on physical therapy.”
“It worked then?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I shook my feet. “Guess it did.”
“How are you otherwise? You’re in Chicago.”
I giggled. “You are, too.”
He laughed. “Yeah. I got traded to the Ravens with—” He pressed his lips together and shook his curly locks before looking back at me. “Anyway, I’m here and so are you.”
I gave him a quick pat on the back. “I came here because the physical therapy program for my knee is the best in the country. My mom helped me move out here, and then unfortunately, she had to go back home to Russia, but at the time, I was able to walk a bit on my own with a cane, so it was fine.”
“Do you work? Does he see his dad?” He threw his hands up to his face. “God. Fuck. That was embarrassing.”
