Page 116 of What if I Told You

Paige sighs. “I hate seeing you like this, friend.”

“I know,” I tell her, trying not to cry all over again. “I’ll be fine. Pain is only temporary, right?”

“Yeah…” She doesn’t sound very convincing. “Tell you what, what if I look at plane tickets and come out for a visit? We can stay in a hotel, wedding dress shop a little, and if you need someone to go with you to look at a few places, I’ll be there to help you.”

“I think seeing you in person would be wonderful, but maybe give me a day or two to figure out what’s happening with me and August. I wouldn’t want you walking into some stress induced hell.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just let me know once you guys have talked rationally.”

If we get to talk rationally.

“Okay.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

AUGUST

“You spread your legs wide open for that fucking son of a bitch and you asked him to stick his dick inside you. You fucked him.”

“You’re nothing but a whore, isn’t that right, Ella?”

“We’re done here. I never should have given you the time of day and I’ll be damned if I waste another breath on you.”

“Shit.” I hang my head in shame and brace myself against the wall with my hand as the hot water rushes over my body.

How the hell did I even get here?

In the past twenty-four hours, I lost my shit and beat a man with my bare hands, I lost my best friend and the woman I loved, lost all my dignity, and quite possibly my job as well.

How do I even begin to come back from this?

I go through the motions finishing in Griffin’s shower, grateful that the guys are standing by me to help me through this mess but feeling like the world’s biggest fucking loser.

To be honest, I don’t care about the job.

Okay, maybe I care a little. Hockey has been my life since I was old enough to skate. But more importantly, the person I love the most in this world is God knows where doing God knows what all because I tore her apart without listening. Without asking questions first. I jumped the gun and reacted instead of putting her best interests in front of my own. The moment I saw that picture of her I reacted with hate for Furbling rather than compassion for Ella.

I was such an idiot.

I know whatever she’s thinking, doing, or saying right now, she’s crying her eyes out while she does it because that’s who she is. She’s an emotional crier and I’m gutted thinking about what I’ve put her through.

I didn’t want to hurt her.

But I did.

Fuck, I said some things I can’t take back. Words that will undoubtedly stay with her forever and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it other than apologize profusely for being the world’s biggest piece of shit.

The last thing I want to do is lose her.

Especially over something like my stupid fucking lack of communication skills.

I wouldn’t blame her if she doesn’t want to forgive me.

“You doing alright in here?” Griffin pushes the door open a smidge as I turn the water off and grab my towel.

“No.” I wrap the towel around my waist and step out of the wet shower. “What am I supposed to do now, Griff?” I mumble quietly so this doesn’t turn into a team intervention in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to fix this?”

“Well, Oliver spoke with Coach who said Furbling isn’t pressing charges.”