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“Start talking, Gretzky.”
I turned my head at the sound of his voice and stared at the outline of Blake’s body in the doorway. “What do you want me to say, Bug? That I would have killed myself?”
“Is that what you would have done?” He reached for the light switch.
“Don’t,” I whispered. “Please, leave it off.”
Blake let out a sigh as he stepped into the room, shut the door, and moved closer. “Would you have?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I tried, but maybe it would be the first time I succeeded.”
“Tommy, no.”
I buried my face back into the pillow, the scent of Blake invading my senses. I felt his hands in my hair as tears spilled from my eyes.
“I hated my life,” I confessed. “Everything I ever wanted was gone in an instant. You, because I pushed you away. Hockey, because of an injury I could have prevented if I had kept my mask on. I had...I had...fuck.” I curled into a fetal position as sobs wracked my body.
Blake climbed up into the bed and wrapped himself around me. He didn’t say anything as I cried. He pressed kisses into my shoulder, his hands dragged through my hair, and he held me as tight as he could until I felt I had nothing left. Then I flipped around to face him.
“My parents found me the first time. Caught me before anything happened,” I whispered, finding tears glittering in his eyes. “I know you’ve already dealt with this before, with Killian, so if you don’t want to go through it again, I understand.”
Blake’s mouth landed against mine. “I love you.” His lips tasted salty. “There is no ‘dealing’ with your depression or suicidal thoughts, Gretzky. What’s yours is mine, and that includes this.”
“Why are you crying?”
“Because you felt you had no other choice but to end your life.”
I leaned my face into his chest. “Multiple times.”
And I started to cry again at the thought of what Blake must think of me now. That I was such a coward that not only did I try to end my life, but I’d tried on more than one occasion. Until my parents had no choice but to put me into a hospital so that I could get my shit figured out. Good thing I had that hockey money and could afford something fancy.
Fingers combed through my hair, palms rubbed at my back, and arms wrapped around me before I finally had the courage to look into Blake’s face.
“And now?” he asked.
“Other than the thought of what I might do if you loved someone else, I think I’m doing better. Therapy helps. Medication. I’ll never be the old Tommy, Bug. He’s long gone.”
He tilted my head up. “What if I came back to Canfield? Would that change things?”
“I could never ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking, Tommy. I want to be with you. Just like we used to talk about.”
A thrill ripped through me. What if Blake came home? We could be together. Have a life. “You would hate it here.”
“Would I? I’d have you. Mav is going to stay in Boston. Killian is already living in North Carolina.” He pressed a kiss against the tip of my scar by my eye. “I can write music anywhere. We could live here. When we have to tour, you could come with me or stay here. We can deal with that when it comes up.”
Hope began to bloom inside of my heart. A feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time. It scared me. “What if... never mind.”
“Talk to me, Gretzky.” He gripped my head in his hands.
I chewed on my lip. “What if we moved somewhere new together?”
“Where do you have in mind?” Blake tugged me closer to him. “Boston, perhaps, so you could be near your brother?”
I nuzzled his neck. “Or North Carolina.”
“You’d want to go there?” Blake sounded surprised.
