Page 121 of Broken Hearts
I stare at him.
“Her heart condition? It’s cool, man, I get it. I can’t tell you how many people have walked away because it’s more than they can deal with. If you and Sienna have any chance together, you’re going to have to lean on her. You’re going to have to trust that she’s strong enough.”
“Of course, she’s fucking strong enough. I didn’t leave because I don’t think she’s healthy enough to deal. Fuck. Is that what she thinks? I’m angry and sad, and she doesn’t deserve any of that. She’s an angel.” My angel.
“Do you want to know what makes me and Sienna so close? What makes any two people close, I’d wager?”
I don’t respond, but he keeps going. “Going through challenging shit together. Being vulnerable and letting the other person see all your fucked-up-ness. For Sienna and me, it’s our heart condition. We get to say things to one another—scary shit—that we can’t admit to anyone else.”
“Cross my heart, hope to die.” I do the X over my heart I’ve seen them do a dozen times.
“Exactly.”
“This is different.”
“It really isn’t. She just wants to be there for you—whatever you need. You said it was coming here so she let you go. She’s a tough chick. She’ll always give you what you need, but is that really being thousands of miles away from her? You’ve been through some shit and I’m sorry for that, man. Truly. But girls like Sienna don’t come around very often. I suggest you get your shit together, Rhett, and go get our girl before I have to see her sad face one more time when I call. I’ve got my own problems I need her to focus on.”
I chuckle knowing that’s exactly how Sienna and his relationship goes. She helps him. She’s his rock.
He stands and offers me his hand. “I have to get going, but I’m glad I stopped by. You’re not half bad, hockey player. Don’t make me regret liking you.”
* * *
The following night,Carrie’s parents come over for dinner. When we’re finished, we all go outside. My mom and Cory walk around admiring the new garden mom put in this year. Dad and Ryder are playing catch in the yard, and that leaves me with Carrie’s dad, Cam, sitting on the porch. I’m just waiting for him to dig into me for missing the funeral.
“School already done for the year?”
“No. Two more weeks to go. My professors are letting me turn in assignments remotely.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Planning on going to graduation or are you going to skip that too?” He gives me a look as he lifts the bottle to his lips. Cam was in the military, a sergeant, and he has this glare that makes a man want to piss himself.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. I wipe a sweaty palm on my thigh. “I’m sorry that I left. I should have been there. That’s why I came back. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I felt like I needed to be here.”
“How many lefts are you going to take to try to make it right?”
“I’m still going to graduate even if I’m not there. I don’t need to wear the cap and gown. I don’t even need the degree.” Not really. I’ve always known I wanted to work at the rink and someday take it over completely.
“And you don’t need to go to a funeral to grieve. If you’re looking for absolution from me, you won’t find it. Hell, you don’t need it. I know how much you cared about my daughter and that’s enough for me.”
I swallow. “Thank you, sir.”
Knowing he doesn’t hate me, is a relief but it doesn’t make me feel as good as I hoped.
He asks about the rink, hockey, school. We bullshit and keep the conversation light until my mom and Cory wander back over.
“We should probably get home,” Cory says to Cam. She smiles at me. “It was good to see you. Stop by the house sometime, huh?”
“I will.” I get up to walk them out.
Cory hugs me, a little teary-eyed.
At the front door, my parents follow Cory out to her car, still chatting away, and Cam hangs back to shake my hand.
“You know, most celebrations in life aren’t really about the person you’re supposed to be celebrating. Funerals, baby showers,graduations.”
“Your point?”
“There are few things I was looking forward to more than watching my baby girl walk across the stage and get her college diploma.” He squeezes my hand a little harder. “Understand what I’m saying?”
