The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  “Two days later… the night before they discharged him… I went in to see him in the hospital. Alone. After everyone was gone and the cameras weren’t watching,” I continued numbly. “He tried ,but I cut him off before he could apologize. I pulled off the ring he gave me and set it on the table next to his bed. I remember looking at him and recognizing the boy I’d been friends with but I could no longer see the man I thought I loved… and who I thought loved me. I told him that out of respect for our friendship, I hoped he got better soon. I told him that maybe someday we could talk about what happened, that maybe someday we could get back to the friendship we had. But that day was on a horizon I couldn’t see at the moment.”

  “You are so strong, Jac,” Kyle whispered, kissing the top of my head.

  “I was crying so I don’t even know how I said all of that. He was crying, too. I left when he tried to apologize. I just… I just couldn’t.”

  “I know, Princess, I know…” he soothed.

  “I was lost. One of the only constants in my life had betrayed me, and it made the ground tip and shift in ways I didn’t know were possible,” I murmured. “I didn’t listen to the news—to anyone. I knew he was hurt. I knew it wasn’t good. But I saw him. Even with all the bandages and monitors. I saw him… spoke to him… and he was alive. He was going to live. I didn’t know or need the details about the toll his fall had taken—not then.”

  Kyle looked at me expectantly, and I knew I was rambling. Avoiding. Because the hardest part of this story wasn’t the one where my fiancé cheated on me with my biggest rival. The hardest part wasn’t when he’d hurt himself trying to catch me.

  The hardest part was that the story didn’t end there.

  “Marissa brought him home the next day. She went out to grab him some groceries and called me on the way. After seeing Evan, I finally answered her calls only to hear her begging me to come see him, insisting that whatever we argued about couldn’t be that bad.”

  The lump in my throat felt the size of Everest.

  I continued numbly, “He hadn’t told her. What he did. What I said. In her eyes, he was still the victim as well as injured. It was then I learned the fall injured his back in such a way that it meant he was going to be paralyzed from the waist down for life.” I couldn’t stop the strangled cry that escaped. For all my anger at him, for all my hurt and hate… I never would’ve wished that. I never would’ve wished him that kind of harm.

  “I didn’t even get a chance to think about going to see him again or not.” Shame echoed in the hollow walls of my voice. “While she was out, he’d pulled himself into the driver’s seat of his car that was in the garage, shut all the windows, and turned it on, breathing in the fumes until he finally passed out and died.”

  “He killed himself,” Kyle confirmed tightly.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “I want you to say it, Jac.” It was the first and only thing he’d asked of me.

  For a moment, I didn’t understand though I complied. “Evan killed himself.”

  As soon as the words came out, I understood. It felt like I could breathe again. In my mind, it was always ‘Evan died,’ because how could he kill himself when it was all my fault?

  It was my fault he was chasing me down the mountain. It was my fault he was injured. It was my fault for giving him the ring back. It was my fault for walking away when he might have needed me.

  I was the one to blame. And that was how I’d lived my life.

  Until Kyle. Until he refused to let me think that.

  He stilled against me and then turned my face up to his. His fingers trailed over my skin, soothing all the cracks that felt raw and broken open.

  “Not your fault, Jac. None of it.” His eyes probed mine, searching for the defiant dispute. “You hear me? His injury, his death. You. Are. Not. Responsible.”

  This was the Kyle I needed—the one who let me be strong until I turned that strength unfairly against myself.

  “But I ran,” I blurted out. “I ran when he wanted to talk. I didn’t go to the hospital. I wouldn’t listen to him, instead I just shoved his ring back in his face. I was hurt and I didn’t care and it cost him his life.”

  “Jac!”

  I jumped at the ferocity in his tone.

  “Would you have blamed him if you lost?”

  I reared back. “W-What do you mean?”

  “When you competed for the Cup that year, if you had lost, would you have blamed him?” he asked sternly.

  I shifted in his lap. “No.”

  “Right, because he wasn’t responsible. The fact that you feel guilty for what, in my opinion, was a pretty fucking reasonable reaction to finding out your fiancé was cheating on you, is beside the point. You couldn’t know he was going to follow you. You couldn’t have known he was going to be unfaithful, and you definitely couldn’t have known he was going to fall and paralyze himself. You aren’t responsible for his actions or his choices, Jac.”

  I nodded against him. “I k-know, I just—”

  “No, Jac, I don’t think you do.” His tone glittered like a steel sword, ready to cut through the lies I’d convinced myself were truth. “Your life is your choice. Just like his was—and he chose to take it. His suicide isn’t your fault any more than his infidelity or his diminishing skills on the mountain.”

  His grip tightened on my face.

  “I know you’re strong enough to hold up the world, Jac,” he swore. “But that doesn’t make you responsible for everyone in it.”

  I dragged in a breath, my heart fluttering. “But if I had made different choices, maybe he’d still be alive.”

  “What if he had made different choices?” Kyle countered. “His choices. His infidelity. His betrayal. They led him to that moment. You weren’t the one who needed to choose differently, he was.”

  My face fell, sinking into the warm safety-net of his palms.

  He was right.

  It was just hard to accept when I was still alive and Evan was dead.

  No matter what he’d done, it was hard to accept that a dead man was responsible for his own choices—even the ones that led him to end his life.

  “I know you feel bad, Princess. I know you feel bad for a fucker who betrayed you because he was your friend and you are such a better fucking person than I for it,” he went on softly, speaking to the thoughts I couldn’t seem to verbalize. “You are strong and kind and so full of heart that I can’t fucking take it. But what you aren’t, gorgeous, is responsible for anyone’s actions but your own.”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

  I’d lived for five years burying the belief that his death was my fault so deep inside of me it would’ve been easier for me to change the fact that the sky was blue.

  Sure, I was angry at how Evan had treated me, angry at him for what he did. But beneath all that anger was the simple fact that anger doesn’t hold a candle to death. That whatever he’d done didn’t deserve death and the thought that I’d played an unwitting role destroyed me. Even the media, who didn’t know half of what had happened reminded me for months how cold-hearted I was.

  “I couldn’t tell her,” I whispered. “I couldn’t tell Marissa that he cheated.” My head shook. “Not after he was gone; she was heartbroken.”

  She’d been devastated to find him and right after she’d just pleaded with me that whatever we fought about wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t do that to her; I couldn’t take away from her the brother who she loved. Not then. And afterward, what was the point? There was no benefit to besmirching the dead, not even to silence the media or Andrea’s instigations. There was no reason to do that to his memory or to Marissa.

  “So you kept it to yourself? All this time?” he rasped.

  Again, I nodded against his chest.

  “Oh, Cinderella,” he sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  A few beats of silence passed before I tilted my head up and murmured, “Stay.”

  “Always, Jac.” He strok
ed my cheek, drying the rest of the dampness from my tears. “Don’t think I ever had a choice… don’t think I ever wanted one…”

  I LOVED HER.

  I loved her for her strength. I loved her for her perseverance. But mostly, I loved her for the giant warm heart she tried to convince everyone didn’t exist under her ice-cold shell.

  It was a little thing, for her to let me hold her, to let me into her past, to let me see her cry, and then to let me take care of her in the way I needed to; all little things that were fucking big things.

  So, I stayed and held her like it could erase the scars of betrayal and loss from her heart. I held her like it could drown out every ugly inference or malicious gossip that had ever been said about such a beautiful soul. In reality, it couldn’t do either of those things so, I held her because she deserved to know she didn’t have to be alone if she didn’t want to be.

  And I held her because whether she realized it or not, I was never letting her go.

  “You okay?” I asked when she finally stirred on top of me.

  “Yeah.” Her voice was drowsy; she’d dozed off for about twenty minutes according to the small clock I could barely see across the room. “Just have to pee.”

  I groaned, pushing myself up as she disappeared into the bathroom. My muscles were stiff from how we were laying but fuck if I was going to make her move.

  I needed to grab my phone and let Jessa know I wasn’t going to make it. I also needed to get my snow pants off because my balls were hot as hell. But I wasn’t leaving the room until Jac came back. I wasn’t going to let her open the door to emptiness. Not right now.

  Lying there, with Jac in my arms, I tried to figure out how the hell this woman could find out that her fiancé was cheating on her with her competition and not only keep her focus and hold herself together for her dream, but then to not hold it against the fucker when he died.

  It was horrible for me to hate a dead man, but fuck, if I didn’t feel anything but animosity for the guy who made this beautiful woman believe that the only thing she had going for her, the only thing that she could rely on was her dream.

  Sure, she had that. And her talent and dedication to it was fucking hot as hell. But there was more to Jaclyn Blanchard. Like juicing. And Star Wars. And a kind heart underneath a cold shell that deserved to have more of a life.

  She’d let the world paint her as some sabotaging, cold, hardened athlete, only concerned about her next win when, even while being broken, she still took the brunt in order to keep those around her from being hurt more.

  No, ‘princess’ only fit part of her personality. The truth was Jaclyn Blanchard was a warrior.

  “Hey.”

  I turned to see her leaning on the doorframe. “Hi.”

  “Sorry for crushing you,” she murmured adorably.

  “Babe, crushing me… choking me… I’m pretty sure I’d enjoy anything you’d do to me,” I said jokingly, the laughter dying when I saw her face turn bright red. “Not what I meant,” I tacked on gruffly. “We should get some food so you’re not eating too close to sleep.”

  “I just want to eat ice cream and watch Star Wars,” she admitted with a guilty smile.

  “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll order us some equally delicious but superiorly healthy Mediterranean food instead of the ice cream and we can watch Star Wars.”

  She bit her lip and my dick that had been cooperatively patient now jerked against my pants, demanding release for having been so close to her for so long.

  She was like fire in my blood. The kind that had to be burned through in order to be put out.

  She sauntered over to me with a grumble of agreement before whispering, ‘thank you’ and planting a kiss on my lips.

  While we waited for the food to arrive, Jac changed into sweats and I went down and grabbed a pair of shorts from my truck.

  “I’m sorry,” she said for about the tenth time, this time as I was texting Jessa an apology for not being able to make it tonight.

  Walking over, I covered her mouth with mine and bit down onto her lower lip until she whimpered.

  “Stop apologizing, Princess,” I instructed. “You know wherever you are is where I want to be.”

  She sagged into my chest, her arms wrapping around me. My throat tightened. This was one of those moments in life where you just fucking know that you’re right where you’re supposed to be.

  Clearing my throat, I looked down at her. There was one thing she hadn’t told me and after tonight, I needed to know—I needed to hear from her before I made the call to Jackson Pyle.

  “Jac, what happened with Andrea?”

  She shivered and stepped back to take a seat at one of the two metal stools at the kitchen counter.

  “She blamed me.” Steely blue eyes met mine. I could tell this part of the tale was more clear-cut and razor sharp. “She blamed me for his death and… I think… she loved him. That day, when he came after me and got injured, she not only blamed me but she hated me because the last thing he did was choose me. I—” she broke off with a sad laugh. “I don’t know. He cheated on me with her. I don’t think he loved either of us. I think… I think Evan was very lost.”

  “I think that’s putting it mildly,” I couldn’t help but add.

  Dead or not, I couldn’t have sympathy for a man who not only couldn’t support his woman and made her feel like shit for her success, but then went and fucking cheated on her.

  “Since then she’s had it out for me. Just like tonight, she approached me one day on the slopes when it was really busy and everyone was out and getting ready for their passes. She started saying… horrible things.” I didn’t even want to know the way she shuddered at the thought. “Back then, I wasn’t controlled. Not that I was tonight, but usually when she says stuff to me, I just ignore her petty hatred.”

  “So tonight, you were defending my honor?”

  She gave me a side-eye. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  I grinned. “Too late, Cinderella.”

  She licked her lips, her smile dwindling as she continued her story. “The last time though, she told me how Evan never wanted me—‘how could he? You’re so muscular and manly Jax.’ She told me he was just waiting until the Olympics were over to break it off with me—that I was just his ticket to the limelight.”

  Just because words weren’t true didn’t mean they couldn’t hurt; and I could see how they’d hurt her, especially as she grieved for someone she’d at one point loved and thought loved her.

  “I was hurt and angry so I lunged for her and no one was there to stop me. But it was all a show. She wanted me to come at her and then she sabotaged her own skis to make it look like I was out to get her.”

  “But wasn’t he gone? I don’t get it. What was the point?”

  As much as I hated remembering about Evan. This was the part of the tale that kept ripping the wound open over and over and over again.

  “He was still in the hospital while we competed that first time. I have… no idea… what was going on in her mind. Maybe she believed what she said—that he was only staying with me because I was the best… because I was famous. Maybe she thought by taking me down a notch or by ruining my reputation, he’d realize he didn’t want me after all. I-I don’t know. He cheated on me. In my mind, that made his choice pretty clear no matter what he said.”

  “But now…” He trailed off.

  I shrugged. “She injured herself and when I was acquitted, I think it felt to her like the moment Evan had come after me on the mountain that day. I think the last thing he did, in her eyes, was choose me and she’s never forgiven me for it.”

  It was sickening to think that all these years, I’d thought of myself like Andrea had—like I was the reason for Evan’s fall and ultimately his death. It was sickening to think we shared that in common.

  “When everything went down, why didn’t you just tell the media the truth, babe?”

  Aside from Danny, and now Kyle, no one else knew wh
at Evan had done. What was the point? It could make no difference now to anyone except me… or someone who wanted to get closer to me.

  I clenched my fists so that I wouldn’t walk over there and grab his face to kiss him.

  “I was hurt and confused. And then he was gone.” As though he read my thoughts, he walked over to me, his fingers cupping my waist and tugging me against him. “I could have done it, but hurting Andrea would have meant hurting Marissa, too. And as angry as I was at them. Marissa was like a sister to me. So now, I just live and, for the most part, ignore her and all the ways that she tries to bring me down because it’s the only way to make herself feel better.”

  “I don’t get why she just doesn’t leave you alone. Especially after all this time,” he seethed and for the first time, I was surprised that he’d pulled me away from her seeing how angry her irrational hate made him.

  “Because he’s gone and I’m the only person left to blame. Me and my success. Maybe if I wasn’t as good, he wouldn’t have chosen me. It’s not my fault he wasn’t planning on leaving me, regardless of the fact that I certainly wasn’t going to stay with him. Not after what he did. But it doesn’t matter.” I laid my head against his chest, feeling his heart thud underneath my ear. “Evan made her promises just like he made me. When he broke them, I moved on. Maybe she loved him too much to do the same. Or maybe, she wanted everything I had—Evan and the gold. And without him, the only thing left for her to take from me is my title.”

  “Not like that fucker can change his mind from the grave,” Kyle grumbled as his head pulled back to stare hard at me. “Jac, I need to ask you something and I need you to tell me the truth and not a guilt-infused truth where you try to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

  My gaze widened as I blinked up at him. “Okay.”

  “Do you think Andrea would do something to hurt you?” His eyes pierced mine with something stronger than simple curiosity.

  I sucked in a breath, my eyes dropping to his chest. “Why?”