Page 40 of Must Love Hockey
“What?” I gasp. “Don’t ask, okay? Just don’t.”
His eyes dart in the direction where James’s retreating form is probably still visible. And then he says something completely unexpected. “That’s the guy who got the assist in the hockey game last night.”
“Wait, what?” I sputter. “How did you know that?”
His head droops, and he looks down at the bouquet in his hands. “I was sitting at home watching the hockey game. I don’t even know why, because you’re the one who likes hockey. But there was this thing that happened—a guy got a goal right after the equipment manager handed him the stick. And I thought, ‘Emily would think that was so cool.’ And I just really missed you. So I called.”
“Oh.”Hell.
“You didn’t answer my calls,” Charles says, offering me the flowers. “And I ended up calling the land line kind of late. I was worried. But your mom said you were out.”
I take the flowers, because he’s just standing there holding them out to me. “You don’t have to worry about me, Charles. I’m fine.” This is so awkward. I hope I don’t look as guilty as I feel right now, doing the walk of shame at noon on a Sunday.
“You met that guyonce, I thought. What is happening right now?”
“We were friends. But Charles—this is really none of your business.”
“Of course it is!” he thunders. “He’s walking you home, and it’s none of my business? We need to talk. I have things to say. I miss you. In spite of the hockey and the trouble we were having. We don’t love all the same things. But I still love you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say that more often. I’m just…sorry.”
My eyes begin to burn. I’d wanted to hear those words for alongtime. “Thank you,” I bite out.
“Can we go inside?” he asks. “I’d really like to spend some time with you. When you didn’t answer me at all, I got seriously worried.”
“Well…” I clear my throat. “Listen. These flowers are beautiful. And I really appreciate what you’re saying. But we are not getting back together. I—”
“Jesus.” He jerks back a few inches. “Can’t we at least talk about it? You’re just going to throw those years of our lives away?”
“No,” I say sharply. “If you let me speak for a second, I could explain.”
He snaps his mouth shut, but his expression says that he isn’t looking forward to hearing me out.
“You were my first date. My first kiss, my first everything. And a lot of it was great—”
“Really great,” he insists.
“I’m speaking now,” I say firmly. He never did listen to me. But that isn’t my biggest issue. “We take each other for granted, Charles. Not because we’re terrible people. It’s because we don’t have any frame of reference. You’re the only boyfriend I know. I’m the only girl you’ve dated. That’s not okay with me anymore. I don’t want to be the person you ended up with by default.”
He flinches, probably because he can feel the unsaid part of that sentence—I don’t want to end up with him by default, either. “You want more…experience dating?”
“Yes,” I say, leaping at this opening. “I don’t want to look back twenty years from now and wonder if I made the best choice or just the safe choice.”
He bristles. “What if you look back in twenty years and wonder why you let me go?”
“That’s a risk,” I admit.
“But now you’ve met someone,” he growls. “And he gets great hockey seats. So you’re willing to toss me aside and have a little adventure? Did you even wait to break up with me? How long has this been going on?”
“Charles,” I say in a low voice. “I have always been loyal to you. Don’t make me regret that by questioning my morals. I don’t deserve that.”
He clamps his mouth shut again and scans my features, anger and uncertainty painted all over his face.
The truth is that I know this looks bad. I didn’t mean to break up with Charles on a Sunday and hook up with James on the following Saturday. But I didn’t do anything wrong. And I won’t let him tell me I did.
“Look. You don’t have to like it,” I say quietly. “But I was honest with you last week when I said I couldn’t be your girlfriend any longer. Be sad. Be angry if you need to be. But don’t accuse me of going behind your back.”
“I want us to go the distance,” he insists, sounding miserable. “I want to give you everything. You said you wanted time alone. Don’t date that guy.”
“Charles.” I suck in a breath. “I think you’d better go. There’s nothing more I have to say right now.”
