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Not that I have anything to lose with her, other than a possibility. One intense make-out session doesn’t make a relationship. But the memory of it makes me hate the thought of her leaving—of never having a chance of kissing her again.
If that were the only thing I might lose, I might be okay. The memory would fade with time. But I will never forget that Cassie was willing to compromise so that we could both get what we want. That’s what I won’t get over. If she’d given up and told the city council she didn’t want the shop anymore, I don’t think I’d be so conflicted.
I’d know she wasn’t right for me.
I’ve already been in one relationship with a woman willing to sacrifice her own needs and dreams for mine; willing to let my thoughts and opinions become her own; willing to lose herself entirely to me.
I don’t want another Grace.
I want Cassie.
Chapter 33
Cassie
When I come outof the bathroom at City Hall, Bear and his family are standing by the exit. I overhear all of them—including Georgia—offering to help him raise the money he’ll need for the pond.
Because, of course, they’ll all support him. Bear is their family. That’s what families aresupposedto do. I should have expected that if it came down to having to choose between us, they would all choose him.
That’s the way it should be. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way.
I just didn’t realize it would hurt as much as it does.
I slip back into the bathroom and stay there until I’m sure they’re all gone.
Then I spend the next hour driving. I circle Smuk Lake, then find a road I’ve never been down and follow it.
The further I go, the further apart the houses get and the brighter the stars glow. The sky is a black ocean with pinpricks of light shining through its surface, and I may love it more than I do the actual ocean.
And I really wish I would have looked at it before tonight. I should have been enjoying this view every night I’ve been here.
Instead, I’ve been focused on winning a fight against someone I shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place.
My fight is with Captain Markham. He’s the one who tried to keep me from advancing in my career—not Bear. Bear’s the guy trying to help girls get something boys already have.
It’s not his dreams I’ve been impeding. It’s the girls’ dreams.
That doesn’t feel great.
In fact, I feel like a big hypocrite for waging a similar battle as Captain Markham. He sees the world as a place of limited opportunity. If a woman gets a job or position that a man typically would have, she’s taking something away rather than adding a broader perspective.
Even though I thought I was fighting Bear, I was actually fighting girls who are trying to prove they deserve to be on the ice just as much as boys do. Hockey, similar to police work, has always been dominated by men. But that doesn’t mean girls—and women—are less capable of doing both. It only means they haven’t had the same chances to prove themselves.
Bear is not only willing to fight for his girls to have the same access to hockey that boys do, but he also wants to do it to honor his mom. Maybe it makes more sense for Paradise to have an indoor rink, but if Bear wants to preserve the pond that was important to him and his family, I respect that, too.
He still has a lot of money to raise. There’s a chance he won’t be able to do it, and I can have my bookstore.
But I can’t get in the way of the girls in this town who want to play hockey any more than I can let the women in the department down. Not just the women who work there now, but also those who will come behind me. They deserve an easier path than I’ve had.
Which means I’ve got to go back and fight Markham.
I feel a rush of heat from my head to my feet and take a deep breath to hold the feeling of certainty that it’s the right choice. The choice I need to make if I want to move past how I’ve felt since Markham’s games started. I don’t understand why it took me this long to realize it, and I’m a little embarrassed that I barreled forward into my bookstore dream when it’s obvious now that all roads were leading me back to the fight I should have been fighting all along.
But maybe I can let that regret go too, along with my dream. Maybe I can trust this awareness that has finally unfurled and be grateful for everything that’s brought me to the understanding that what Ineedis not what Iwant. Maybe that awareness can be enough.
As soon as I come to this realization, I turn my car around and head back to the studio.
I’ve already stopped thinking about it as my apartment. I have an apartment back in LA, and it’s time for me to go back, even though the thought of giving up the bookstore dream literally hurts. My chest is tight, and I might throw up. I really did love the idea.
