Somewhere around the statement when Avery said, "She tried to rectify it," my blood literally froze in my veins and the back of my neck prickled with unease. A tight ball of anxiety lodged deep within my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
"What do you mean," I say, enunciating my words slowly to try to control the shaking of my voice, "she tried to rectify it?"
Avery rolls her eyes at me. "Please...don't play stupid. I'm talking about her calls to you after you left and the way you ignored her. Refused to call her back."
"And an email?" I ask, my throat so dry and gritty feeling.
"Of course an email," Avery huffs out. "But after you didn't respond, she gave up."
"I didn't get any voicemails," I assert confidently.
"Liar," she hisses at me. "I suppose you'll deny her email too. She reached out to you and you turned your back on her."
I drop my arms away from my chest and stand up even straighter, towering over Avery. I lean down, and with rage filling me, I growl at her, "I didn't get any fucking voicemails, and as far as an email..."
My mind races back to that time. Seven years was forever ago, but I'm not surprised I didn't see an email. I wasn't a big email communicator, and as soon as I got to Pittsburgh, I was given an email with the organization. I handed that out to my family to use and that was that. I was lucky if I checked it once a week and my old email was left in the dust.
I could log on to it now. I'm sure it still exists, but I don't even fucking remember what the password is. Would there be an email from Vale spilling her guts to me from long ago? Would she tell me she lied about not loving me? Would she want me back?
The idea of it is almost too horrible to bear, because that means there was so much time fucking wasted. So much misery that could have been avoided, and oh, fuck...my refusal to give in to my renewed feelings for her. All borne of my inner demon-child who was still bitter and angry, and perhaps wanted to punish Vale.
Turning my back on Avery, I scrub both hands through my hair, trying to think. How did I not get her voicemails? My mind races, trying to remember what was going on in my life those first few weeks after I got to Pittsburgh. I started training camp, moved into an apartment. Went out partying with my new teammates, fucked around and tried to purge Vale from my mind.
And then it hit me as clear as day. I had lost my phone on one of those early nights living the high life in my new city. Had gone out, got drunk, fucked some chick, and ended up staying all night at her apartment. I snuck out the next morning and it wasn't until about midday that I realized I didn't have my phone. I assumed I left it at her place and didn't want to go back for it. So I went out with my new money burning a hole in my bank account and bought the newest and most high-speed smartphone out there. I got a new number, proud of my new Pittsburgh area code, and I only gave it out to my teammates and family.
"Son of a fucking bitch," I groan out as I look up toward the sky, clasping my hands on top of my head. My lungs constrict and I feel on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Are you seriously trying to act like you didn't know?" Avery asks skeptically, but I can hear the heat has gone of out of her voice.
I don't turn back to look at her, but continue staring up at the sky. It's dark and cloud covered, not even the moon visible. It makes the gulf between me and Vale seem very bleak at this point.
"I lost my phone not long after I got to Pittsburgh," I say quietly. "I got a new one. New number."
"But her email," she presses.
"Never saw it. Got a new email too," I say, the urge to bend over and vomit now hitting me hard. "Got a whole new fucking life and never looked back."
"Oh," Avery says quietly, and I can clearly hear the pity in her voice right now.
"That sucks, dude," Oliver says.
Yeah, this fucking sucks, and my knees almost buckle as I realize that Vale had already forgiven me for that. She let that go and didn't hold it against me. She was honestly trying to make a new and fresh start with me. She gave in to feelings and emotion, and she let herself love me again without an ounce of regret or fear, even thinking I had ignored her attempts.
She's completely the bigger person of the two of us. That's one thing Avery got right.
Spinning around, I look at Avery, daring her to lie to me. "Where is she?"
She blinks at me in surprise but immediately says, "At Dave's house. They're decorating their Christmas tree."
I spin back around and trot down the steps, reaching into my pocket for the key to the rental car I got at the airport. Calling over my shoulder, I say, "Tell your mom I'm sorry but I can't stay for dinner."
I hear Oliver's laugh, hearty and pleased, and then I leave that all behind.
I've got some major groveling to do if I'm going to get my girl back.
Chapter 28
Vale
"I can't believe how good these cookies are," I say as I take another one from the plate sitting on the coffee table. Just one more, I promise myself.
"Makes up for the completely dried-out pork roast, right?" my dad says with a chuckle as he carefully places a metallic green glass ball on the tree.
"It wasn't that bad," I say kindly, but oh, wow...it was bad. No wonder I'm eating my fifth cookie of the night.
"Baking is apparently my forte," he muses, choosing to accept my kind sentiment about what was possibly the world's worst roast.
"You be in charge of baking, I'll take back cooking duties."
"Deal," he agrees, and reaches into the box for another ornament. As he places a hook through the small wire loop, his voice takes on a bit of a dreamy cast. "I know you probably can't remember, but decorating the tree is one of my best memories of your mom. She loved this stuff so much."
I smile sadly, because my memories of her are so faded. It just seems like it was always dad and me together, my memories of her coming at the hands of dad's sentimental recollections. But I know their love was true. He never sought anyone else after she was gone, preferring not to fight a losing battle in the quest to find that perfect love again.
And boy, do I understand that sad thought. I know I might be shortsighted at the moment, but I can't imagine finding anyone else like Hawke. I think he was the perfect one for me. Well, at least I thought that until I realized his power of forgiveness just isn't that strong, and unfortunately, that's a deal breaker.
I chew on my cookie and pick up an ornament from the box. It's silver with frosted snowflake patterns, and twinkles at me merrily from the white lights that are glowing brightly on the tree. I try desperately to call forth some Christmas spirit, try to remember how I used to love this time of the year and would just be warm and gooey inside from the peace that seems to permeate the air.
Unfortunately, I feel cold and hollow inside, and I know that I'm only going through the motions to appease my father. But that's okay. Like he said, we have a lot to be celebrating this year. And hopefully we'll have the year after, and the year after that. I need to be happy with those unique and special gifts.
A knock on the door has both Dad and me turning that way. He arches an eyebrow at me and I shrug my shoulders. Piper gets up from her place in front of the fireplace and trots down the hall, her tail wagging eagerly at the prospect of company.
"Probably Avery," I muse as I place the silver ball on the tree and brush the remaining cookie crumbs from my hands onto my jeans. "She probably just wants our cookies."
"I'll go put the rest on a plate and start a kettle for some tea," my dad says as he turns to the kitchen.
I saunter down the hallway, grinning as Piper's tail starts wagging even harder as I get closer. I give her a quick scratch on the butt and grab the door handle, twisting the knob and pulling it open.
And there stands what I think may be a mirage. Tall, piercing blue eyes, trimmed beard set over a gorgeously fantastic face.
Hawke.
I blink and my mouth parts, a soft gasp of surprise whispering out.
"Hey," he says
quietly, his eyebrows furrowed in what looks to be pain.
"What are you doing here?" I blurt out as Piper steps onto the porch. She shoves her muzzle into his crotch, tail wagging a hundred miles an hour. Hawke bends to gently push her head back and scratches it absently while his eyes never move from mine.
"We had games in Ottawa and Montreal. I made a quick jump over here to visit Oliver and his parents."
"Oh," I say, but not really understanding why that puts him on my front porch. I shove my hands in my pocket and drop my gaze, not a clue as to what to say.
My heart is beating fast, his proximity to me disconcerting. My brain whirls with possibility but refuses to believe even for a moment that he's here to tell me he's made a mistake. I know Hawke...once you shut the door on him, he doesn't knock back on it.
"Can I come in?" he asks, and my head snaps up.
"What?" I immediately ask, and then realize that's stupid. I back up and make room for him to pass. "Yes, sorry...of course, come in."
Hawke steps past me and I catch a whiff of subtle, spicy cologne and fresh cold air he drags in with him. I close the door and turn to find him walking into the living room, Piper trotting alongside full of puppy curiosity.
"Hawke?" my dad asks in surprise as he returns from the kitchen and sees him.
"Hey, Dave," Hawke says hesitantly, and I know he's wondering how my father feels about him...the man that broke his daughter's heart a second time.
My dad just stares, seemingly at a loss for words. I walk slowly into the living room, my hands tucked into my pockets again to hide the fact they're slightly shaking.
"Those cookies look great," Hawke says as he nods toward the plate in my dad's hands.
"Want one?" my dad says, and then shoots a questioning glance my way. I just shrug my shoulders and hold on to my silence.
"Actually," Hawke says as he turns to me, his gaze wary and needful all at the same time. "I need to talk to Vale."
"Okay," my dad says a little more exuberantly than needed. He sets the plate of cookies down on the table. "I think I'll just head down to the pub for a beer with the boys. Give you two some privacy."
I don't say a word. Not even a friendly reminder to my dad that he can only have one beer. I just watch as he grabs his coat from the rack in the living room corner and shrugs it on. He steps up to me, kisses me on the cheek, and whispers, "Don't be too tough on him. That boy is here to apologize."
I blink in surprise but give him a soft smile of understanding. I'd like to say I'm angry at Hawke, and maybe I am just a little, but I have no desire to rail against him. I just don't have it in me to compound the pain either one of us is feeling. Besides, Hawke carries enough of that for both of us.
Once my dad is gone, Hawke glances at the tree. "It's nice."
"Yeah," I agree quietly. "Dad wanted to get it up early...celebrate, you know?"
Hawke nods and strokes his beard, cutting his eyes back over to me. "I saw Avery a bit ago."
"Did she slap you?" I can't help but asking, because that would be so Avery.
"Sort of," he says, and I cock my head in curiosity, but he doesn't make me wait for it. "She told me you tried to call me after we broke up. Sent an email. Felt like a slap."
My jaw drops open and I narrow my eyes at him. "You sound like it was a revelation to you."
"It was," he agrees somberly. "And it had the force of a punch now that I think about it."
"You didn't know?" I ask incredulously. It's not that I don't believe him, it's just that this now starts to make complete sense.
"I didn't. Not until about fifteen minutes ago."
"I don't understand...how?"
"I had lost my phone; got a new one with a new number. I never checked my email. That shouldn't surprise you. Got a new email, which I never checked either, but that's moot...you didn't have it so you couldn't have reached out that way."
Hawke never knew I tried to make things right?
More important, Hawke wasn't purposely ignoring me. He wasn't trying to hurt me back. He was just...ignorant of it all.
"No wonder you couldn't let it go," I muse in wonder as I look down at the carpet. Looking at him hurts a little too much. "I mean...I knew I'd hurt you badly, but now I get it. You really did think I cut you out completely. Shut the door and never looked back."
"That's what I thought," he agrees, and takes a step toward me. His legs come into view and then I feel his hands on my shoulders.
"Vale," he says softly, and I tilt my face up. "I didn't know, but trust me...had I known, I would never have ignored you. Granted, I probably wouldn't have seen the email, but had I got those voice messages...please believe me, I would have called back."
"I believe you," I say automatically, but take a step back from him. His hands drop and he winces as if the distance hurts. "But if you're here to tell me that changes things--"
"It changes everything," he whispers.
"No," I say with a shake of my head and a surge of anger. "It only reinforces that my love survived hurt and betrayal but yours wasn't strong enough."
"It may not have been strong enough," he says with determination, and his hands come back up to my shoulders. He grips me gently, pulling me a little closer. "It may have been buried...even shrouded so I couldn't see it, but it was there."
"No," I say in denial, refusing to believe that it could be so.
"Yes," he says harshly, digging his fingers in reflexively. "I was ignorant, stupid, whatever. But don't tell me that it's not love. Don't you dare try to tell me what I feel right now. You have no right."
"No right?" I ask incredulously, my hands coming up to slap his chest. I start to push him backward then my fingers curl into his shirt. I pull and give a shake. "I have no right to doubt you and your feelings? You...the man who thinks it's good enough to fuck me and take everything I had to give, but couldn't even recognize what was standing right in front of him."
"You have no right," he says as his hands drop to circle around my wrists, holding me pinned there, "because you are the woman who forgives above all else. Even when you thought I had received those messages...when you thought I had just cut you off without a backward glance, you forgave me and you opened yourself up to me again. I refuse to believe you won't do it a third time. You still love me, Vale. I know you do. And I love you. So much it physically hurts when I think that I may have fucked this up for good. I am begging you not to close that door again. To give us another chance."
Tears pool in my eyes, something that would ordinarily embarrass me, but I blink without hesitation and let them break free. They make warm trails down my cheek that immediately chill in the air. "I'm scared," I say in a small voice. "I laid myself out there, opened myself up, and when you didn't give it back, you can't begin to imagine how badly that hurt."
"You're wrong," Hawke says as his arms wrap around my upper back. He contracts, pulling me all the way in so my cheek turns to rest against his chest. "I do know how it feels. I'm not playing the blame game, but just reminding you...you told me once you didn't love me, and I remember that feeling so sharply, it feels just like yesterday. So I know...I know how bad it feels, but I'm also here to tell you, we both have the power to make that go away for good."
"How?" I ask, still wanting to rebel against this notion because it's so terrifying, but finding myself snuggling into his embrace. "How do we have the power?"
"Do you really love me?" he asks gently, one hand stroking my back.
I nod into his chest. "Yes."
"Do you believe I love you? Do you accept it?"
"I don't--"
He doesn't let me finish my doubtful thoughts. He pulls back, frames my face with his hands. His thumbs dry the tears from my cheeks and he leans in to whisper a gentle kiss across my lips. My eyes close in a silent sigh, and when I open them back up, he's staring at me intently.
"Vale," he says with quiet resolve. "I've always loved you. Even when I thought I hated you, I always loved you. It's w
hy I was never in another relationship. It's why I couldn't leave you alone when you came back into my life. I may have been too stubborn to give a name to it, foolishly hiding behind a mask of anger, but you have to know, thinking back over the last few months...everything we've shared, and talked about, every time we've made love, or just held each other. Every joke and smile and every fucking moment of amazing silence between us. You have to know...you have to admit, that was my love for you. Think about it. Search deep. Tell me you know it."
Tell me you know it, he pleads desperately.
And I realize...I do know it.
I knew it with utter clarity that night by the airport where he brought me out to toast my dad's amazing miracle, and when he made love to me wrapped in cool November air...
I felt it. It wasn't in anything he said. He didn't give me promises or sweet words of encouragement. I just...felt it. It's why I was so compelled to tell him that I loved him. I was sure of our feelings for each other, so much so that I took the risk of getting hurt. I put myself out there, and yes, he did hurt me because he couldn't say it back right then, still too burdened down with the ambiguity of our stupid past, but definitely...I knew it just as sure as I know the air I breathe is a necessity.
"You loved me," I say in revelation. "You just wouldn't believe it yourself."
"Yes," he groans in relief. "I was scared."
"Hurt," I add.
"Stupid," he says with a smile and I smile back.
"A little slow on the uptake," I offer kindly instead.
He laughs, bends to kiss me again before agreeing. "A little slow, but I'm caught up now."
My hands come up, clasp onto his wrists. I stare into the blue depths of his eyes, filled with love, happiness, and the relief that comes with knowing all is right in my world.
"So where do we go from here?" I ask him.
"Anywhere we want to," he tells me, and this I believe as well.
Epilogue
Hawke
Brian Brannon's house is a monstrosity. Which is good, because you need a place built like a palace to hold all the members of the Cold Fury organization for a Christmas party. It's his traditional party held every year on Christmas Eve, as long as the Cold Fury isn't out of town on a road trip. This year, we're here and ready to celebrate the holiday as teammates and friends.
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