Page 32 of Center Ice

“Dani,” I started, but she cut me off.

“It’s not your fault that I keep falling for it. I want you to be this guy all the time, but you’re not. I want you to fit into the idea I have of who you are, but that’s not fair.”

There was too much to uncover from what she just admitted. I started from the beginning. “You keep falling for it?”

She huffed and tried to pull back, but I held her tight and felt her relax into my arms. “I’m sure it’s obvious at this point that I’m attracted to you. I haven’t tried to hide that, although I probably should have.”

Well, no. That wasn’t obvious to me. Maybe it was my years of isolation or my overall inexperience with women, but I didn’t know she was attracted to me. Her? The gorgeous, confident woman who knew what she wanted and went for it?

“I thought I was just the lesser of the bad options you had around.”

She laughed, despite her scowl. “That might have been the reason I approached you at the pool, but it wasn’t why I invited you to leave with me.”

“No? Then why was that?” I didn’t think she would answer, but I was willing to try.

“There was something in your eyes I wanted to understand.”

Of the million possible responses, that was not one I’d expected. “What?”

She lifted a hand and lightly trailed my jaw. “A hollowness. Something empty. I didn’t expect it from a guy like you.”

“A guy like me?” I asked.

Her lips tipped up at the corners. “I had an idea of who you should be based on your profession and the guys you were with. I thought you’d be cocky and even a bit obnoxious, but you were quiet. You held back.”

I didn’t argue that.

“I wanted to know why, so I invited you to my secret spot.”

“Where I blew it and have continued to do so.”

She shook her head. “No, you’ve let me see who you are. You can’t mess that up.”

But I wasn’t what she wanted. At least, not what she imagined.

“You miss your mom, but I think it’s more than that.” She hesitated. “I think she was your person.”

I considered that. My mom was the person I’d been closest to in my life. She was my best friend, not because I had to take care of her, but because she always knew how to make me laugh. I could confide anything to her, and she gave the best advice.

“Yeah, she was.”

“And you lost that. You lost a part of yourself.”

I nodded.

“It’s okay to not be whole after that. It’s okay to be sad or even a little bitter for a while. It takes time to process and grieve.”

I pursed my lips. “But it wasn’t a shock. I had years to accept that she was going to die.”

“That doesn’t mean it was easy.” She squeezed my shoulders.

She was right. Watching Mom fade away slowly knowing there was nothing I could do was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

“I wonder sometimes what she would think if she could see me now.” I didn’t want to think about that too hard. Would she think I was living up to her last words? Would she be proud or disappointed? What would she tell me if she was here right now?

I used to be able to predict exactly what she would say before the words left her mouth, but with each day that went by, her voice got quieter in my mind. It was like time was creating physical distance in my memories, making it harder and harder to reach her.

“I’m sure she would be happy for you.” Her voice pulled me back to the present.