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“So, how should I tell him?” I hang on to her every word.
“Just say it!” Amanda urges. “It’s better than hiding it. He’ll adjust. And if he’s head over heels for you as much as I think, you’ll form quite the nice family.”
She winks at me, but I sigh, still unsure.
“I know he wants something serious, but I don’t want him to feel obligated because I’m pregnant,” I confess, feeling sorrowful.
“Did he ask you to be his girlfriend?” Amanda sips her wine.
“Yes.” I take another sugary sip of my drink. “I told him I needed time.”
“But nothing about the pregnancy?” She looks at me, tilting her head.
“I told him I have something important to tell him.” I lean my head on my hand. “But I also said I needed time to do it. I don’t know what to do.”
Amanda shakes her head, fingers at her temples, looking at me as if I’m overthinking.
“Ethan is already bracing for the worst, Mia,” she asserts. “Please, stop torturing him.”
I lower my head, staring into my almost empty glass. I signal to the waitress that I want a second one, contemplating Amanda’s advice.
She’s right. I shouldn’t keep on stalling anymore, but her admitting that Ethan doesn’t handle surprises well isn’t helping me feel any better.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ETHAN
We’re mid-practice before the game against the Washington Guardians, but all I can manage is skating around and occasionally making a pass.
“Matthews!” the coach yells from the sidelines, his face red. “What’s wrong with you?!”
Quickly, I skate over to him. The thoughts on my mind shouldn’t affect my game, but all I can think about is Mia and the ‘something important’ she has to say.
“Sorry, Coach!” I say, truly apologetic. “My head is not in it today.”
The coach fumes. He’s not usually angry. I’ve had far more ill-tempered coaches, but he doesn’t tolerate excuses.
“I suppose you want me to release you from practice?” he asks, almost spitting fire.
“No!” I wave my hand, trying to calm him. “I’m just… I mean…”
“You’re starting on the bench again,” he says, crossing his arms. “Jameson did a good job when you were out. Maybe it’s his turn to be the starting center.”
That hurts my ego. Jameson taking my spot was understandable when I was injured, but I refuse to be benched while I’m in perfect health.
“Shove the bench up your ass!” I snap, throwing my stick down and heading to the locker room without looking back.
The coach keeps yelling, but I ignore him. He doesn’t come after me, which is a relief, so I just change and call Mia. I need to hear her voice urgently.
I’m back into civilian clothes when I take back my phone and dial Mia’s number — I could message, but I need to hear her voice, and I need to hear it urgently.
“Shouldn’t you be in practice?” It’s the first thing she says, sounding worried and upset.
“Oh, not you too…” I groan, slapping the palm of my hand against my forehead.
“What happened, Ethan?” Mia asks, stern but loving.
“Coach and I are both having bad days,” I confess. “I don’t think I’m playing in the next game.”
