by Kate Meader
“Not really.” He held up his phone with his paused game of Bubble Ball.
Elle pushed Jordan aside gently. “Gunnar, this isn’t fair.”
Ah. So Sadie had confided in these women. He was glad she had someone to talk to. The only person he had was her and he’d screwed that up. He wanted to go back to before, to that time when he was alone in the woods. To morning funnies and the safety of a phone screen. Or back further, to a curvy stretch of road in California. He sure as hell didn’t want to be here on a ludicrous bodyguard detail for a woman who didn’t want anything to do with him.
“How is she?”
“Surviving,” Jenny said. “She made me this dress for Jordan’s wedding.”
“It’s pretty.”
She nodded. “And she’s wrapping up things so she can move back to LA.”
Jordan squeezed his forearm. “You can’t do this 24/7, Gunnar, and you don’t have to. Sadie will be hanging with us for the rest of the day and the evening for the bachelorette party. Nick will be watching the kids later. We’ll ask Levi and Theo to take it in shifts until she leaves in a couple of days.”
“That’s not their job.”
“But it’s yours?” Elle’s look was pitying. “You know how she feels about you, so think about how hard it is to see you all the time. We’ll take care of her until she has to leave for LA.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”
She was right.
It wasn’t his job to protect them, not when he’d checked out and made his position clear. Perhaps he was here because he’d fucked up with Kelly and Danny and Janie, and he had to put it right. Take action. He couldn’t imagine ever living without that feeling of failure, and he shouldn’t use Sadie and Lauren to fix what was wrong inside.
“Tell her I’m sorry. I’ve said it already but I need her to know.”
Elle nodded, and they all stood back to let him drive away.
34
Gunnar walked into the Empty Net and nodded at Tina, the owner.
“In back,” she said, thumbing over her shoulder.
Theo had invited everyone to meet here to kick-start Hunt’s bachelor party, the theme of which was a mystery. Gunnar hadn’t been as involved as he would have liked because his mind was filled with Sadie.
He headed toward the back and stopped at a door with a sign that read: If You Don’t Know What This Is About, This Party Is Not For You!!!
On pushing the door ajar, he felt the floor vibrate with the boom-boom bass of something he didn’t recognize because he was too old. Was this what nightclubs looked like these days? He couldn’t see a thing through an impenetrable haze.
A figure emerged ghostlike from the smoke. “G-Man! You’re here!”
Gunnar blinked at Theo. “What the hell is going on?”
“Might have overdone it on the dry ice machine.” He waved away some of the haze and pulled Gunnar over to the bar setup. “You’re the first person to arrive.”
Gunnar squinted, trying to discern what might lie behind the smokescreen. “Is that a—shit, a mechanical bull?”
The haze cleared enough to show a brown legless bull torso surrounded by a padded wall.
“I told you I was going to set up something awesome! That Green Beret dude probably would have organized a bar crawl or maybe an army assault course. Which might have been fun, actually.” He gave that thought a moment’s consideration. “But a bar crawl? Like that’s good enough for a Rebel. Don’t think so. What are you drinking?”
Half a beer in, all Chicago-based team members but Hunt had arrived and were standing around, admiring the bull. Cal Foreman had started a book on who would stay on the longest.
“You sure Hunt hasn’t just decided he’d prefer a quiet night in with his best man?” Gunnar took a swig of his beer and eyed Theo.
“You think you can hurt me with your cruelty, Double-O? I’m impervious to your blows. Hunt knows I’m the real best man, but he’s got to give props to his army buddy. Dude probably saved his life or something.” He pulled Gunnar aside to let Jorgenson get closer to the bull. “So, heard you moved out of Sadie’s.”
“I never moved in. I stayed over a couple of times to keep an eye on things.”
“Riiiight. Also heard the ladies told you to take a hike today.”
“Nothing gets by you.”
Theo squinted, or maybe his eyes were filled with dry ice. “Want to tell me what’s going on before we get trashed and don’t remember a thing?”
He opened his mouth to say “bring on the booze,” but bit it back. Theo could probably handle some of the truth. As he seemed to share everything with Elle, maybe Gunnar could hear how Sadie was doing.
“I can’t be what Sadie needs. She knows that, and if she doesn’t, she’ll figure it out. She’s a smart girl.”
“Is she? She thinks you’re worth the trouble, so not sure how smart she is.” Theo’s expression was neutral, not matching the dig. Unsure how to respond to that, Gunnar moved on.
“Yeah, well, she’s leaving soon. She has a life somewhere else.”
“Maybe that life could be here. But then you’d have to get over yourself.” He didn’t even smile to soften it. Not like Kershaw at all. What was happening here?
“I never promised her anything.” All the excuses were coming out, one by one. “She agreed to the terms.” Now he sounded like his agent.
“God forbid anyone changes their mind, huh?”
That wasn’t Gunnar’s problem. He’d laid his cards on the table. If she didn’t like the hand, she shouldn’t have played it.
With the haze and the bull and the weird vibe, it felt like he’d entered an alternative universe with a different, less amiable Theo. “Kershaw, do you have a problem with me?”
“I don’t get you, Gunnar.”
Theo calling him by his actual name? “What don’t you get?”
“I saw how you were around Sadie last weekend in Michigan. Sneaky looks. Handsy as fuck. Coffee in bed. You were so into her. And not telling her outright what day it was? That wasn’t protecting her, it was protecting you.” He poked a finger in Gunnar’s chest.
Gunnar opened his mouth to protest, but Theo was still talking. “And this Secret Service detail is kind of ridiculous, don’t you think?”
“I know. That’s why I stopped.”
Theo shook his head. “I mean it’s ridiculous that it was your go-to in the first place. So you’re not saying it, but you’re doing it. You can’t use your words to say how important she is to you, so you’re doing all these things that prove she’s important to you. You’re so crazy about her that you can’t help yourself!”
You can’t have it both ways. I can’t be important and unimportant.
So she was important. She was a fucking treasure, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. If that happened again … Christ, he’d barely made it out the last time.
In fact, he hadn’t. He was still pinned in place in that car three years ago.
“Hunt! About fucking time!” Theo squeezed Gunnar’s shoulder, a gesture of conciliation, and moved forward to welcome Levi.
Gunnar wasn’t drunk enough for this.
But everyone else was. Apparently the entire shindig would happen here, which suited the crowd because this place had all a party needed: booze, buffalo wings, and a bull. The smoke had cleared—literally—but Gunnar’s mind was still a fog.
He stood near the bar and watched while Kershaw held on to the bull for dear life. Sensing a presence, he turned and found Dante.
“This must worry you,” Gunnar said.
“Why?”
“Your valuable assets being thrown with considerable force from some height to the ground.”
“Seems harmless enough,” Dante said just as Kershaw was launched from the bull and hit the padded floor. He rolled over, holding his side and laughing his head off. Sure. Harmless. “Can’t play it safe all the time,” Dante added.
Someone else who wanted to poke that sore spot. �
�What the hell does that mean?”
Dante assessed him. “Heard you’re not with Sadie anymore.”
“Christ, you lot are chatty little fuckers.”
“You seemed to be getting along at the party. To be fair, I noticed you didn’t spend much time with her but you never stopped looking at her.”
“So I liked looking at her.” Like.
“And you stepped in pretty quick when Kaminski mouthed off.”
“She was my guest and he had no right to talk to her like that. Of course I’m going to be there for her.”
The curve of Dante’s lips was a smug gotcha. “You know what else I noticed? Sadie never took her eyes off you. Whenever you got within two feet of a small child, she was ready to jump in.”
“Really, that’s your amazing conclusion? We made eyes at each other at a party?”
Dante half shrugged. “That’s simpatico couple stuff. Teamwork isn’t just for sports, amico.”
So they couldn’t stop looking at each other.
So they had each other’s backs.
So he might have made a terrible mistake.
Fuck.
Her last words to him echoed in his muddled brain.
When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me.
Why was talking so important? Actions had always spoken louder for Gunnar. On the ice, putting a ring on Kelly’s finger, witnessing the birth of his children, protecting them with every ounce of his being.
But in the end, actions had proved squat. He couldn’t protect them. Trapped in that car, he couldn’t do a single thing. Hours had passed, with him falling in and out of consciousness, and every time he woke up—then and now—he was still fucked. He couldn’t control a thing and that knowledge leaked like blood from his heart every single day.
Except.
He didn’t feel as wrecked these days. He didn’t feel as numb. Sadie had done that. She’d put her own needs aside to tend to his, and wasn’t he the selfish prick? He couldn’t give her anything, especially not the love she needed. He barely had enough for himself.
He barely had enough … Something went flash-bang in his head, something he couldn’t label, but it made him shake like that stupid mechanical bull.
“Back in a second.”
Dante nodded absently, his indulgent gaze on Cade who was now in the saddle.
Gunnar headed to the restroom, but instead of going in, he wandered down a corridor until he found the exit to the alley. Then he left. For some air. For a quiet second to catch his breath and figure out why the status quo was bad and he couldn’t just be.
He took out his phone and started typing.
For her bachelorette party, Jordan wanted less of a blowout and more of a chance to spend time with the significant women in her life. Sadie felt honored to be included, though this was more to do with keeping Sadie company than any strong feelings on Jordan’s part.
They’d begun the night at Dempseys, a bar owned by the firefighter husband of Jordan’s friend Kinsey (and appropriately populated by hunky CFD bartenders) then took a hired limo to Smith & Jones, a high-end restaurant in the West Loop, where Kinsey’s brother-in-law was the executive chef. Connections, I have ’em, Jordan said.
The food was amazing. Apple-bacon pierogis. Burrata and butternut squash. Tandoori lamb chops. All night, the girls did a lovely job of keeping her mind off a certain someone. They talked about careers, goals, happiness, and largely skirted the subject of men. It was wonderful. Her heart still ached.
When would she feel like herself again?
Her phone pinged and she checked, worried about Lauren and hoping her sister would text to let her know she was having a good time over at the Isners.
She started at the identity of the sender. Not Lauren.
Her heart beat like a trip hammer as she scanned the first words of the text message.
Gunnar: You asked me once if I missed us. What we used to have and how we connected before. It seemed simpler then, just two strangers checking in, getting to know each other, becoming friends. I had no idea it would get so complicated. That knowing you IRL would hurt so much.
Sadie’s hand shook. This was what she’d asked for—a soul reveal—and now she had it she wasn’t sure she could handle it. But she had to. Woman up!
She stood, a little too quickly, and Jenny reached to steady her.
“You okay?”
“Yes! Fine!” The words sounded squeaky. “I need to take a walk, get some air.”
“Want company?”
“Nah, you stay. I’ll be back in a few.”
She left the table, conscious that everyone was watching the brokenhearted woman as she stumbled away. Her phone pinged with another message. When she got to the restroom, she locked herself inside a stall and read the text.
The thing is I didn’t miss us. Because I felt like we had a new “us” in this moment, if that makes sense. I was two different people. The guy who talked his heart out to Angel in those texts, then the guy who wanted to lose himself in a gorgeous woman with a smile that slayed him. Combining the two would force me to take a step I wasn’t ready for. Admit that I might be moving on. How could I do that to the people I love so much?
I used to dream about them all the time, but it stopped when I first moved to Chicago. Hockey helped. Drinking helped more. Then I met this woman, this bright, funny, amazing, annoying woman, who set my body on fire and my brain on empty. The dreams returned, but with variations. In these versions, I have chances to do things over. My arms aren’t pinned and I can reach the door handle. My phone hasn’t fallen under the seat but responds to voice commands. Kelly isn’t breathing like her lungs are full of blood but is conscious and barking orders. (She was kind of bossy.) Janie is chattering on, wondering when Daddy is going to take her home. And Danny …
Danny, his beautiful boy. Sadie swallowed, dreading what would come next.
I dream about my son in the back seat of the car, sucking his thumb. He’s always asleep in the dream even though he wasn’t that day. That day, he was chatting about the clouds. He loved clouds, was always seeing shapes and faces in them. In some versions of the dream, I can’t see him. I know he’s there but it’s as if he’s hidden behind a screen. In other versions, he’s asleep before the accident. When we crash, when we go off the road, I hear Kel and Janie, but not Danny. I can’t hear my son’s voice anymore. I don’t remember what he sounds like.
The coroner’s report said he died immediately. They were both in booster seats, strapped in tight, but a branch knocked out the window and killed him outright. Kelly had internal injuries. She knew she wouldn’t make it. She told me she was sorry she pushed back on a third kid. I wanted more and now, now it doesn’t matter.
Janie lasted a couple of hours longer. My little princess had the heart of a fighter. I tried to sing to her that Johny Johny Yes Papa song. She used to love it when I’d sing it with her name instead. Janie Janie Yes Papa.
But after a while, she went quiet, too.
That was the worst of it, Sadie. How quiet it got. How the silence accused me when I was the only one left to hear it.
Sadie wiped away the wet on her cheek. She’d asked for it, hadn’t she? If he could say it, she could read it.
That’s why I went to the cabin in New Hampshire. For the quiet. For the accusing silence. So I could dream about them. But that wasn’t enough and I started texting Kelly, needing to talk to her. Needing to pretend that she might walk in the door any minute and the nightmare was over. It felt good to keep that connection alive. It felt good to pretend.
Then you answered.
And I knew she wasn’t coming back. None of them were. I only had the bad dreams where my daughter’s screams still echoed in my ear, my son’s refused to come, and my wife was definitely fucking dead.
Sadie clutched at her chest. Her thundering heart would break its confines any second now and splatter all over this restroom floor.
Should she respond? Did he need to kn
ow she was reading it right now? Could he tell? Probably.
Inserting herself wouldn’t help. She wasn’t his therapist. She was here to listen, not fix his problems.
Waiting for the next heartbreaking reveal was excruciating. So many times, her fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to jump in. A painful two minutes later, he texted again.
You know what happened next. We started talking and I started looking forward instead of back. Forward to your bad jokes and check-ins. Forward to waking up instead of longing for the night to come. Forward. I hung on to every word of my guardian angel. That’s you. Angel. The funny Angelino and my angel rolled into one. I returned to hockey, moved to a new city, kept busy. I acted because action kept me sane. Play, coach, eat, drink, fuck. Don’t think.
Easier said than done. Have you ever tried to stop thinking? I mean, really try. It’s impossible. Every day I wonder why I got pissed at that driver behind me. Why I didn’t pull over to let him pass. Why I put my hubris above the safety of my family.
All these small decisions.
I wonder why you got Kelly’s number. Why we exchanged texts instead of blocking each other. Why I came back to Chicago to coach a youth hockey team. Why we didn’t have vegetarian sandwiches that first day. Why I believed Lauren’s pretty outrageous story about her big bad sister.
Something beyond my understanding pushed us together, Sadie. Something within me, and completely knowable, pushed us apart.
The longest minute of her life passed while she held her breath.
I miss them and it hurts. With you, it didn’t hurt as much, and I resented that. I resented the way my body reacted to you. I resented the way my heart awoke from a winter of hibernation. I resented pleasure and laughter and joy, all emotions I feel with you. I wanted the pain. It keeps me sane. Embracing happiness is a kind of insanity, don’t you think?
If by happiness, he meant falling in love, she had to agree.
I don’t know where to go from here. If there’s even a place for us to go. I just know I don’t want to do this without you. I can’t do this without you.