Page 25 of Slapshot Baby

I thought we had a real connection that night. That he’d reject me even though he enjoyed that night. But I was so inconsequential to him that he’s already forgotten me.

He doesn't remember me because to him, I never existed.

And somehow, that's infinitely worse than if he'd rejected me on purpose.

6

KAI

Blank Slate

The first thing I register is a hand on my face.

Not a nurse's hand. Nurses are efficient, clinical, already reaching for the next task before they've finished the current one.

This hand is warm and unhurried, fingertips pressing against my cheek like they've done it before.

My eyes open.

A woman is standing over me. Tall, chestnut hair falling loose past her shoulders with lovely hazel eyes. Her face fills with relief.

She looks at me like I matter to her.

"Oh, Kai."

Her voice splinters on my name. Not the careful way Mom says it, always bracing for the next bad update. This is unguarded.

My chest responds before my brain does, warmth radiating through it. I lean toward her before I've decided to.

But I don't know this woman.

"I'm sorry," I say. My voice sounds like sandpaper. "Have we met?"

For a second, she just stares at me.

Her eyes go bright and wet, and her lips press together like she’s physically holding something back.

Then it’s gone.

She blinks once, squares her shoulders, and when she looks at me again, her expression is carefully neutral.

“Yeah,” she says. “We have.”

Mira shifts in her chair. Mom looks between us.

“Ava…” Mom starts.

“I’m fine.” She gives her a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, then turns back to me. “It’s okay. You don’t remember.”

Something about how calmly she says it makes me feel even worse.

"We met at the gala." Her voice is rough but even. "The charity event for the team. I'm an interior designer."

I search for anything that will help me recall the face. A gala. A lounge. Her face in a crowd.

Nothing.

“What gala?”