Page 89 of From Ice to Grace
“I need to apologize,” she says.
Surprize moves through me as she sits on the couch next to me, shifting in such a way that her legs are resting firmly and warmly against my own. “I want you to know that I never meant to say those things to you.”
I know she means that night in the parking lot after our game against Florida. We’ve had a lot of…conversations in the year we’ve known each other but that one struck hard.
“You meant it,” I say simply. “I know because I felt the weight behind it.”
The weight of the truth.
“Still,” she says, her voice soft as she toys with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I’ve been upset about a lot of things for such a long time. It took me a while to realize that I wasn’t exactly aiming those words at you.”
I shift and sit up, making more room for her as we now sit facing each other.
“Then who were you aiming them at, Snow? I didn’t see anyone else in that parking lot but me.”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes filled with hurt. The need to pull her into my chest intensifies. I want to hold her and comfort her. I want to find the person who made her feel like this…and make them feel it too.
But instead of crossing a line she drew, I brush my fingers against the back of her hand, urging her to tell me more.
“Are you talking about the guy you left behind back home?” I ask.
She nods, looking down at her hand. She’s still wearing the ring I gave her today, gently twisting it on her finger. Hope blooms in my chest. It must say something that she’s still wearing her wedding ring even after we just had a fight. I thought she’d throw it out the window.
“He wasn’t just a guy. We were together for a long time. I was engaged to him,” she says softly. “I guess I would’ve been on my honeymoon with him now if I didn’t find him in his locker room with another woman.”
Cold fingers fold around my heart, squeezing tighter with each passing second.
She used to wear another man’s ring on her finger…and he betrayed her. She trusted him and he hurt her. No wonder she always insisted on picking a fight with me whenever I was with a woman who wasn’t my pick of the season. I must’ve looked a lot like her cheating ex and I didn’t ever do anything to prove her wrong.
“I left as soon as I found out. Honestly, the job in the US was a gift from God. I took it without thinking, packed my things and got on the plane. But now, I can’t imagine going back to everything I left behind.” Her voice wobbles slightly and she wipes a tear from her cheeks.
“I made a no intimacy rule, Declan, because I can’t…” she trails off. “I’m not ready for anything like what I had before.”
My hands are balled at my sides, not only do I want to punch her ex in the face, but I want to wrap my arms around her.
She takes a deep breath, her gaze lifting to mine. Her blue eyes are filled with tears.
“I made choices with Axel, crossed lines that can’t be uncrossed. I’ve been running for the past year, and now it feels like it’s all catching up to me.” The tears spill over her cheeks.
Screw it.
I pull her into me. She fits perfectly beneath my chin, crying as I wind my fingers through her hair. This feels too good to be true. I don’t have a need to let go, to run in the opposite direction or to let her know that she should have no expectations here.
No, instead, I have a need to never let her go.
“I’m the one who has to apologize,” I say, into her hair. “I was a jerk and you deserve better.” I place a kiss against her hair, lingering there for a second.
It’s hard not to. I may have had a certain idea about who Avah Johansson is, but I was wrong on every possible level. She’s loyal and caring, kindhearted and genuine. She deserves to be someone’s wife. Someone who can give her the world.
And that’s you?
I shove the thought down, knowing our arrangement isn’t what she deserves. But it is what she needs right now, and I’ll give her what she needs. I can do that much.
“And your ex is an idiot. You are not someone a man cheats on, Avah. I may not be an expert at relationships, but even I know that you’re the type of woman a man does everything in his power to keep forever.”
She wipes over her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “Is that what you really think?” she asks, her voice soft and fragile.
“That’s what I know.”
