Chapter 3

1578 Words
"With pleasure. We're leaving so you can be alone with your best friend. Your ego." She had stormed out of his room, taking his parents with her and they'd fled back to San Antonio. He had plenty of time to feel sorry for himself in his apartment while he healed. He refused to ask anyone to drive him to rehab after he was released. His teammates were all busy with friends and family now the season was over. He was pretty sure they didn't want to be saddled with hauling his ass around. Besides, he didn't need them lecturing him about how to get on with his life. Instead he became best friends with Uber. He liked the first driver enough that he scheduled him for pickup and delivery at the same time four days a week. None of it, of course, improved his disposition, especially when all the rehab still left him with a slight limp. If he went home to his place in San Antonio at least he could avoid running into any Rage fans. But then what? Did he even have anything waiting for him there? As he sat there, more alone than he'd ever been in his life, he heard the echo of Brenna's words. Something she'd said poked at him like a sharp stick. "You walked away from the best woman in the world." At the time he hadn't had room in brain for anything except feeling sorry for himself. But now the image of Lizzie St. John popped into his mind. Lizzie, with her one dimple, her masses of black hair and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Truth to tell, thoughts of her had been popping into his mind a lot since he got hurt. All these years he'd done his best to suppress his memories of their last night together and his frustration that she couldn't see what his goal was and what it took to reach it. He'd never stopped to appreciate how lucky he'd been to find her. From the time they began dating in high school, through all their college vacations, she'd been there with him. For him. She'd listened to him go on forever about hockey and his dream. She'd learned enough about the game to discuss it intelligently with him. They had it all - a great relationship, great s*x. He'd just automatically assumed she'd understand when he told her everything was on hold until he achieved his goal. "It won't be forever," he kept telling her. "I have to do this. Can't you see?" "See what? A selfish little boy who doesn't have room in his life for anything but this obsessive need to play hockey and win some trophy? And why is that, anyway? What's so damn special about it that you'll put your entire life on hold until you win it? That you think I'll put my life on hold and wait until you get around to me." He'd given her a helpless look. "You don't understand." "Other athletes manage to have personal lives," she pointed out. She knew about Miracle on Ice. Knew how focused he'd been on his career. Why couldn't she understand that any future they might have had to be put on hold? When he had finally made a team that won The Cup, his obsession could take a back seat to everything else and they could plan a future together. He'd be ready to build a relationship. With her. Why couldn't she see that? Now that he'd reached that point, he had to face what an arrogant ass he'd been. Putting his career above everything else in his life and not appreciating what he had. It never occurred to him that she would move on. Not his Lizzie. Despite what she said, he had an arrogant certainty she'd just hang around waiting for him. His problem was he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind and that bothered him. Disturbed his focus. Maybe if he saw her it would satisfy him, he could tuck her back in the mental corner where she belonged for the moment and he could get back to work. But every time he called she told him she was busy. Then he was stunned when his sister told him she was seeing someone. He'd had to battle a big dose of jealousy. Two years later he heard she had broken up with whoever she'd been busy with so he called, hoping to see her, maybe have dinner. But again she had someone in her life and it wasn't him. Why should he be surprised? She was bright, beautiful, and had men trailing after her with their tongues hanging out. A couple of times he'd run into her out at dinner with someone and it was all he could do to be polite to her date. Again the word jealousy popped into his head, but how could that be? He'd walked away and apparently given up any claim to her. Now he saw that she'd gotten on with her life without him. Apparently he was a stupid fucker, as his sister never hesitated to point out, if he expected her to just wait around for whenever he succeeded on his quest for the holy grail of hockey. He asked himself the same question over and over. Why couldn't she see he wasn't ready yet to give a woman a permanent place in his life? Why was that so hard to understand? But dealing with the reality of her with someone else ate at him, and unfamiliar emotions plagues him at odd times. Shutting that door in his mind took more effort than he'd expected. Year after year passed and his goal seemed further than ever out of reach. It took him so much longer to get out of the minor leagues than he'd expected. Even then, he got traded twice before racking up the kind of playing time he wanted with the Rage. And worst of all? All these years, no matter how he tried, he'd never been able to get Lizzie out of his mind. Looking at it now he figured that was his punishment for shutting her out of his life. Now, when it might be too late, he realized they'd had something special. He was a first class dunce - make that egotistical jackass - to have thought they could just put their situation on the shelf until he decided the time was right. Today, with the emptiness of his life stretching before him, it finally struck him with painful clarity what an ass he'd been, on so many fronts. Lying in the hospital, alone, his career shattered, his relationship with his family fractured, he'd realized something he'd avoided all these years. He was in love with Lizzie St. John. Yes, in love. L.O.V.E. Why the hell had he been so stupid? Okay, he had The Cup. So what? He had no one to share it with, and by no one he meant her. He'd stopped calling her because it irritated him when she blew him off for someone else. By now she'd probably built a great life for herself with some guy. And he, selfish bastard that he was, had...what? An injury that forced him out of the game and a heart that ached for the woman he'd tossed away so carelessly. Was it possible he still might have a chance with her? Would she even talk to him? Worst of all, if he called her would she think it was only because his career was over and he had no other options? Man, his world looked bleaker than ever before. As he sat there, indecisive, his phone chimed with an incoming text. From the team office. Great. What more could they do to him? He opened the text. "Don't forget June 29 is your day with The Cup. That's the end of next week. Get hold of Bear Thompson and make arrangements for him to hand it over." The tradition was that when a team won The Cup, every team member got to have it for one day. He could do whatever he wanted with it as long as he didn't damage it or lose it. His first reaction was to tell them they could just pass it on to whoever was next in line. As he thought about The Cup, he suddenly remembered all the stories other players had told, abut their day with The Cup bringing love into their lives. An idea popped into his head. It was stupid and idiotic but it just might be the key to unlock Lizzie's heart. Prove to her that she wasn't second best now that he was off the ice for good. That she'd always been first. He'd just been too stupid to recognize it. But first he had to end the pity party and go home and make nice with his family. He would attack this with the same fervor he used in hockey. Only the prize this time would last forever, if he could win it. "Okay" he typed. His finger hovered over the screen for a moment but then he pushed the icon to send it. That done, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for his apartment. It was a long drive to San Antonio and his leg wasn't in the best shape. He'd better pack and get on the road.
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