by Abby Burch
I lead her to one of the outdoor sofas in the middle of the terrace and decide that tonight, I’m not going to tell her, but rather show her that I love her.
For the first time in my life, I don’t have sex with a woman - I make love to her.
23. Brenna
The next couple weeks go by quickly. Ryan has several away games, and I begin to get a feel for what it will be like during the regular season when he's traveling constantly. Thankfully, I've been spending a lot of time with Morgan. She's fun and quirky, and her hockey knowledge is extensive, to say the least. She's been helping keep me sane when Ryan is away.
I drop by the bar where Morgan works Friday evening after I get off work. The Velocity are playing in New York tonight so we decided that I would stop by and watch the game at the bar while she works. It's only a couple blocks from the arena so I find it easily.
The bar is surprisingly large on the inside, with a small-town coffee-shop vibe. Strings of lights hang across the ceiling. The walls are covered in an eclectic mix of local art and chalkboard paint, and the large, mismatched sofas and chairs scattered around the place feel warm and inviting.
"Over here, Brenna!" Morgan waves at me from across the room. She has the remote in her other hand, in the middle of switching the channel on the tv closest to the bar.
I plop onto one of the stools. "Has it started yet?"
"Nope, you're just in time!" She says. She's wearing a faded Velocity shirt and high-waisted jeans paired with black ankle boots. "New York has been really good so far in preseason so this is gonna be a tough one for the boys."
"Better start drinking now, then!" I say with a laugh. Morgan pours me a beer and slides it across the bar to me. Thankfully, the place is fairly empty, with only a handful of college students studying in the back corner, and a young couple munching on a basket of fries near the front window, so Morgan is able to relax and watch the game with me for the most part.
"So things are getting pretty serious with you and Flynn, huh?" she asks me, using the common sports-life practice of referring to someone by their last name. She props her elbows on the edge of the bar top and rests her chin in her hands.
I run the tip of my finger across the glass of beer, collecting the condensation on my skin. "I suppose you could say that." Two bouquets of flowers, a Velocity t-shirt and a Victoria's Secret gift card were all delivered to me... just this week. We have been video chatting every single night and texting at every free moment.
I didn’t think I’d miss him this much, but I do.
"How are you handling the increased media attention?"
"You are just going straight for the tough questions, huh?" I say, lifting the beer to my lips and taking a long drink from it. I set it back down into the circle of liquid left on the bar top. "I mean, it's all still very overwhelming. We're trying to lay low since our relationship is still so new. I'm also trying to not be a distraction from him making the team. I know he'd hate to be sent down to the minors."
Morgan glances at the tv, where the puck has just been dropped, and then refocuses her attention on me. "What does your family think of him?"
I clear my throat. "Well, I don't associate with my family anymore, so, even if they somehow know, their opinions don't matter."
"Shit, I'm sorry," Morgan reaches out and touches my hand. "I didn't know."
"It's okay," I say, taking another drink from my glass. It's already half-empty. "Nobody really knows about that part of my life… not even Ryan."
As if he knew we were talking about him, I see him check a New York player into the boards. It's a solid hit and New York isn't happy about it. One of their players immediately skates to Ryan and takes a couple swings at him, but they are quickly pulled apart by the officials.
"Your boy is awfully scrappy tonight," Morgan muses.
"He's got something to prove," I say softly. Although we haven't talked about it, I know his father's unexpected visit a few weeks ago threw Ryan for a loop and he’s still reeling from it. It's part of why I haven't brought up the subject of my parents - because I know Ryan doesn't want to talk about his, just as much as I don't want to talk about mine.
I still wonder about that photo I saw in his house that one morning. Sam Flynn. Why has Ryan never mentioned having a brother? Is it for the same reason I don't talk about having a step-sister?
As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I see the phone number I could never lose from my memory, and the message "I'm in town tonight, would love to see you and talk."
Fuck. Me.
I lay my phone face-down on the bar top, ignoring Morgan's slightly bemused expression. I down the rest of my beer in one go, and slide the glass across the wooden bar to Morgan. "I'm going to need something stronger."
I am simultaneously feeling pretty good and pretty bad by the time the third period rolls around. I'm sporting a hefty buzz because I switched to drinking vodka cranberry and Morgan is pouring them strong.
The Velocity are losing 4-1 in a pretty brutal game. New York is making them look like a pee wee team tonight. I know the phrase "you win some, you lose some," but this will be their first loss in pre-season this year, which sucks since it's also their last pre-season game.
My phone has also gone off with several more text messages that I am ignoring. Morgan raises an eyebrow at me each time one comes through when I don't move to check them. To her credit, she hasn't probed, but I can tell it's killing her not to ask.
Toward the end of the third period, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Confused, I spin around in my chair, and come face-to-face with none other than the guy who damn near ruined my life: Ashton.
"Hey B!" He says to me, his straight, shaggy brown hair longer than I remember it being, falling in front of his steel colored eyes. He tries to hug me and since I'm sitting on a stool at the bar, I can't dodge him, so I'm trapped. He wraps his arms around me and I stare wide-eyed at Morgan, who understandably looks confused as hell.
"Ashton," I say sharply, pulling away from the embrace as quickly as possible. "What are you doing here?"
"Didn't you get my texts? I'm in town tonight and I needed to see my favorite girl."
My head is spinning. Morgan clears her throat and thrusts her hand out to shake Ashton's. "Hey, I'm Morgan, Brenna's friend. Can I get you something to drink?"
"Nice to meet you, Morgan," Ashton says, throwing her one of his patented, charming smiles. "Jack and Coke, doll."
Morgan goes to make his drink, glancing back at me for a moment. Making sure I'm okay? I'm not okay but I can’t exactly vocalize that, even if I wanted to. Ashton gazes appreciatively at her ass for a moment before turning back to me.
"How did you even find me?" I ask him. He's standing too close to me and I feel claustrophobic.
"It wasn't hard, B," he laughs. "You weren't responding to my texts, so I texted Carly. What are you doing at this place anyway? It’s kind of a dive, don't you think?"
Morgan sets Ashton's glass on the bar in front of us with a loud thunk. I'm pissed. Why would Carly tell Ashton where I am? She calls him Fuckface, for gods sake.
Fuck Carly for putting me in this situation. Our friendship is over.
"Aren't you excited that I'm here?" Ashton asks me.
I finally look him in the eye for the first time since he arrived. I feel anger, excitement, and those familiar butterflies that have plagued me for nearly a decade. "I don't know what to feel," I answer him honestly.
I vaguely hear the horn on the tv and glance up to see that the Velocity lost 5-1 tonight. Morgan is not even trying to hide the fact that she's staring at us both. I look back at Ashton. "Did you forget how things went down the last time I saw you?"
"Of course not, B," he says, taking a large gulp from his drink. "But since some time has passed, and I'm sure you've missed me, I figured tonight we could see each other since we're both thinking more rationally."
"Rationally!?" I nearly yell. "How could I be rational after what you did?"
"B, baby," Ashton shushes me. If anyone else tried to do that to me, I'd go postal - but I immediately quiet at Ashton's voice. "Come on, let's get out of here. Let’s go somewhere and talk."
I look at Morgan. She's concerned and confused. Me too, girl.
Without a doubt, I shouldn't go. I absolutely can't trust Ashton farther than I can throw him. But part of me wants to hear him out, and maybe get some closure to that chapter of my life.
Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, I sigh. "Okay, let's go."
24. Ryan
Brenna won't answer her fucking phone.
It's 3am in New York and I'm on a fucking red eye flight back to Chicago. I bought the ticket after she wouldn't answer any of my calls or texts for two hours straight.
I'm not sure if I'm more confused or pissed off.
We lost a brutal game tonight against the New York Pirates and I needed to hear my girl's voice. Tonight was my last chance to prove to the management team that I deserve a spot on the Velocity's roster this season. I hope I earned my spot but I'm really not sure. Brenna calms me down, reassures me that I deserve to be here in the NHL. I need her tonight and she isn't fucking answering me.
After two hours, I finally called Carly. She let me know that she didn't know where Brenna was and she was trying to find her too. Carly then told me that Morgan had texted her saying that Brenna had left the bar with Ashton. Although I don’t know Carly all that well, the terror in her voice was all I needed to hop on the next flight home.
Brenna has been light on the details regarding her douchebag ex-boyfriend, but I know enough to know this guy is bad news. He's narcissistic, manipulative and whatever he did to Brenna really fucked her up. I still have to remind her every day that she's beautiful, thoughtful, talented, and perfect.
Why would she go somewhere with him, alone? Why would she not tell her friends where she was going? And why would she completely blow me off when we talk for hours after every single game?
Am I more committed to her than she is to me?
The plane can't get to the Windy City fast enough.
25. Brenna
I've been walking for so many miles tonight that my feet are going to hurt for days, I'm sure.
But nothing hurts as badly as my heart does.
Ashton and I have been walking the streets of Chicago for several hours, talking about anything and everything. Conversation has always been natural for us, so once he broke through my guard, it's been flowing steadily, like the old days. He's asked questions about me and my life, what I've been up to for the past year, if I still frequent that breakfast place over on Cicero, how Carly is doing...
Ashton never gave a shit about me, my interests, or my friends. Who is this guy and where did he come from?
Okay, I can't say he never cared. For brief times here and there, he did. Whether he was faking it or not, I can't say for sure, but there were times where he was caring, supportive, and sweet. He was a real, loving boyfriend for a while. When times were good, they were good. Those good times cover the memories of the bad times with him.
Maybe I'm an idealist, but I always try to see the best in everyone – even Ashton. So when he asked me to go for a walk, I figured it couldn't hurt. Maybe he's changed, and I should give him the opportunity to tell his side of the story. I would hope he would afford me the same opportunity if the roles were reversed.
I feel tingly with a mix of booze, butterflies, and the familiarity of two souls that know each other so intimately. My legs fall into stride with his as we walk, naturally, like it hasn't been a full trip around the sun since they last lined up with each other.
We stop in front of the iconic Willis Tower, the glass façade glittering against the sky with the reflection of city lights in the cool night air.
“Remember the first night we went for a walk?” Ashton asks me suddenly. “We tried to walk all the way here from campus.”
“Yeah. You said it would be a good workout. But neither of us realized it would have been 14 miles one way to get here,” I say with a laugh. Ashton's laugh is familiar.. comforting. He's very close to me again.
He takes one of my hands in his, sliding his thumb across mine. “What happened to us, B?”
My guard shoots back up and I take a step back from him, breaking the connection but not fully escaping his spell. “Ashton, you cheated on me. You tell me what happened to us.”
“B, baby,” Ashton grabs my hand again. I half-heartedly try to pull it from his grip, but quickly give up, focused instead on his touch. “I was young and stupid. I realize that now. I want to clear the air between us... I want to make things right.”
“So you aren't engaged to her anymore?”
“No,” he says, a bit of something to his voice... sadness, maybe? “All I can think about is you. Every minute of every goddamn day. You've always been my girl, B. You'll always be my girl.”
My heart stops.
He is holding both of my hands now, between us. All I can feel is the sensation of his thumbs rubbing my skin, and the fire in my lungs from the breath I’ve been holding.
A few people walk past, but they ignore us. “I know I hurt you more than I could ever understand but I know what a huge mistake I made, and I want to make it right. No one else will have my heart, B... only you.”
“Ashton, I-”
The words die on my lips as Ashton's mouth seals over mine. Any anger, any resolve I still had, die with those words as I sink into the comfortable numbness of his kiss. I may have consciously forgotten the minor details of him, but our mouths certainly did not forget each other. My mind is blank, caught in suspension.
Then I see Ryan's face in my mind.
I jerk away from Ashton, needing complete separation. “What's the matter, B?”
“Ashton, I have a boyfriend,” I stammer. “I'm seeing someone.” My hands are shaking.
“You what!?” Ashton yells. His voice bounces off the steel and glass edifices surrounding us. I cringe, bracing myself for the verbal assault I'm about to endure. “How dare you, Brenna? How can you be seeing someone?”
“You left me!”
“But you told me that I would be yours – forever. I thought forever meant something to you. Did you lie to me?” He's inches from my face. Even in the night, I can see the rage in his eyes.
“No, but-”
“I came back for you, Brenna. I fucking came back here when I realized what a mistake I had made. And this is what I come back to - you fucking another guy? Who is this fucker?”
“Please calm down,” I beg him. One passerby looks our way but doesn't stop. Typical Chicago.
“You know, you're a real piece of work,” Ashton snarls at me. “This guy better run while he still can. You're just going to destroy him too, like you do everything else. He won't want you much longer. You're a worthless piece of shit.”
Shaking, I try to speak, but he cuts me off before I can get any words out. "You really think you're worthy of love? You think someone could love someone like you? You're messed up, Brenna. This guy will leave you like everyone else, and don't you dare come crawling back to me."
I'm sobbing openly in the streets of downtown Chicago in the middle of the night and I don't even care. “Ashton, I'm sorry-” I'm reaching out for him, but he starts backing away from me.
“You go back to that happy little world inside your head. Keep believing that you're a “hero,” that you're actually making a difference in the world. You're nothing but fucking trailer trash and you're never going to amount to anything. I'm done with you, Brenna.”
His back is to me and he's walking away from me once again. I sink to the concrete which rumbles beneath me, the city never sleeping, even at this ungodly hour.
I thought I had already been broken a year ago when I found out he was cheating on me. I broke even more when when I found out he was engaged to the girl with whom he was cheating on me. I believed I had been broken as much as any one single person could be when I di
scovered the girl he was cheating on me with and now engaged to was my own step-sister.
Somehow, this is even worse.
I don't know how Ashton always manages to get me under his spell. I know better than to fall for his old tricks but... somehow I always get dragged back in. The timbre of his voice, the sensation of his touch, it all lulls me into complacency before he destroys me again.
The power he has over me, even to this day, blows me away.
And now I'm questioning everything.
I lay back, my shoulder blades scraping the concrete sidewalk, and sob to the sky.
26. RYAN
I search all night for Brenna, driving all over her neighborhood, the area around the bar and arena, and even scoping out Northwestern's campuses. I call her phone no less than 300 times. I want to get the police involved, but Carly won't let me, convincing me that although Ashton is scary, he isn't the type to kidnap and hurt my girl.
At least, not physically, she said.
Between myself, Carly, John and Morgan, we piece together that Ashton showed up at the bar, claiming that Carly had told him that's where Brenna was. However, Carly never spoke to Ashton. According to Carly, Ashton has tracked her cell phone before and then lied about how he knew where she was.
Carly also fills Morgan and I in on some of Brenna and Ashton's history. Specifically, how last year, Brenna discovered Ashton was engaged to Brenna's step-sister, Jenny, while he was still dating Brenna. When everything blew up, Brenna's dad sided with Jenny, telling Brenna to her face that “Ashton would have proposed to you already if he was really interested in you.” No wonder Brenna doesn't talk about anyone in her family, ever. I guess I probably wouldn't either if my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me with my step-sister for who even knows how long, to the point of proposing to her and moving with her to Texas.
At 10am, I park my car down the block from Carly and Brenna's house. I've been awake for more than 24 hours at this point, and I had played a hockey game in New York before driving the entire city of Chicago through the wee hours of the morning. I've started to fade fast, and I know it isn't safe for me to keep driving at this point. I decide to take a quick cat nap in my car, then reconnect with Carly to see if we need to get the police involved.