Page 107 of Puck with Karma
“Who is your fiancé then?” he growls at me. “This Wesley character?”
A sniffle escapes me at yet another reminder of what a mess I made of things.
“Wesley is the man I dated before I came to Minnesota,” I tell Xander. “He and I decided that we were not right for each other. That was before I left Boston.”
“How are you engaged then?”
“I’m not,” I almost yell it out. “I’m not,” I repeat a little quieter. “My parents… Wesley was hoping for my father to invest in his business. My mother is involved as well. And they basically told him that the only way they’d do it would be if he married me. My mother sent a press release out before I even knew anything about any of it.”
“So you’re not engaged then?” Xander sounds incredulous.
“No,” I chuckle, but there’s sadness in it. “I told them it’s not happening. And I told Wesley I’d use my trust fund to help him with his business. He really is a great guy, and they were going to cause his grandmother’s house to be sold from under her. I…”
“You’re not engaged to anyone,” Xander mutters into the phone. His voice comes across as if he is in shock. He’s trying to process the information.
“No, I promise, Xander. I…” I need to take the bull by the horns on this one. “I’m in love with you. Only you.”
“Well, fuck.”
Chapter 31
Xander
I am sitting in the emergency room at the New York hospital where I ended up after Brandon Karlsberg broke my nose. It hurts so fucking bad, but I’ve had worse injuries over the years. This should not be any more than a small bleep on the radar.
The curtain in the small area I was brought to is being pulled to the side when a nurse walks in with brisk steps.
“Mr. Hamilton?” she asks for confirmation.
I almost nod, but the pressure in my head reminds me that it’s close to exploding from the pain. I give her a thumbs up and call it a day.
“My name is Bridget. I will be your nurse tonight. Dr. Sherrick is the doctor working the E.R. right now, so he’ll be taking care of you.”
I give another thumbs up. I’m not here to make small talk. In fact, I’m not here to make any kind of talk.
“There’s quite a ruckus out there,” she talks like we’re friends. “Press is relentless.”
“Yeah, they’re friendly like that.” My voice sounds like a mumbled and congested mess.
“We get famous people in here every so often,” she continues. “But two at the same time?” Now she is laughing. “That’s a rare occurrence.”
I shrug. “I’m not a local. So I shouldn’t count.”
“Hmmm…” She eyes me with her dark eyes. She is quite beautiful I must say. “Minnesota Cats, or so I hear?”
“That’s right.” I almost add that not for long, but I try to contain myself.
She starts pushing buttons on the equipment she rolled in when she first got here. I am grateful for the couple of minutes of silence she gives me while she focuses on her job.
“I never used to be much into hockey,” she starts again. “But I have a little brother who loves it.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not even sure why she’s telling me any of this.
“My dad got him into ice skating when he was really little, two, I think. He is six now, and he’s really good at it.”
I raise my eyes in surprise, forgetting about the pressure in my face. The pang of pain reminds me of why I’m here.
“You have a six-year old brother?” I ask in surprise.
