by Anna Sugden
Jenny shook her head. “Jake will be as frustrated as you are.”
The mantel clock chimed. Eleven-thirty.
Her phone remained silent.
“If that’s true, why hasn’t he called, or even texted?”
“I guarantee Jake hasn’t changed his mind about you.” Jenny eyed the sole remaining brownie wistfully, then pushed the plate away. “He thinks you’re perfect.”
A chill went through Maggie. “I keep telling you, there’s no such thing. I’m not perfect.”
“All right, he thinks you’re perfect for him. He won’t walk away because your situation is too challenging.”
Maggie wished she had her friend’s confidence. “We’ll see.”
Jenny rose, stifling a yawn and hugged Maggie. “If you haven’t heard from him by morning, I’ll go to his house and beat some sense into him.”
Once Jenny had gone, the sisters tidied up the kitchen.
“I can’t believe Jake will let you down.” Tracy wiped the counter.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I know I am. This rubbish will die down. Your solicitor will sort Lee out. Life will return to normal. You and Emily will get residency.” Tracy grinned. “You’ll live close by, maybe even with Jake, and everything will be perfect.”
There was that bloody word again. Perfect.
Maggie knew better than to count on everything working out. Still, that little flicker of hope hadn’t been extinguished yet. Maybe this time would be different.
When Tracy went to bed soon after, Maggie returned to the living room. The clock marked midnight. As each chime echoed through the quiet house, a dark prescient feeling hovered over her like a gathering storm cloud.
“Enough.” She grabbed her mobile and dialed.
No answer.
When it clicked through to voice mail, she hung up and tried again. Still no answer. This time she left a message asking him to call.
After ten minutes, she tried again. When she still had no joy, she called Tru.
“Hey, Maggie. What’s up?” His cautious tone sent an uneasy shiver down her spine.
She bit her lip. Whatever was wrong, she had to know. “I’ve been trying to reach Jake but keeping getting his voice mail.”
“Uh...he didn’t feel well and left.”
So Jake didn’t want to speak to her.
“I see.” She tried to sound calm, though she was close to shattering.
“We’re sharing a ride to practice tomorrow. Can I give him a message?”
Unwilling to appear needy, she declined. She snapped her phone shut. She wanted to toss the bloody thing against the wall, but switched it off and laid it on the table before heading upstairs to bed. That way, she wouldn’t spend all night waiting for the phone to ring and dying inside when it didn’t.
After a restless night, during which she’d slept only fitfully, Maggie made herself wait until she’d seen Emily off to school before turning the phone back on.
No missed calls.
“Nothing?” Tracy stood in the doorway.
Maggie shook her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
“Go over there.”
“I will, later. He has practice shortly, and I have work to do.”
“Don’t worry about work. I’ll cover for you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll face him in my own time. On my terms.” Maggie hugged her sister, then went upstairs.
She deserved better than Jake’s silence. Had the right to the truth, delivered in person. If their relationship was over, so be it. Her heart ached, but she stiffened her resolve. Better to know than to cower with dread. She was stronger than that.
Squaring her shoulders, she switched on her computer.
Maggie worked until the early afternoon, skipping lunch because she couldn’t face food. Unable to focus, she did routine tasks that required little thought. Ibuprofen kept her throbbing temples from becoming a full-fledged headache.
By two, she’d had enough.
Arriving at Jake’s house, Maggie was surprised to see the reporters had gone. Another juicy story must have broken.
There was no answer when she rang the doorbell.
She checked her watch. He should have returned from practice by now. Should she leave or let herself in? Not prepared to let him keep avoiding her, she used her spare key to open the front door.
The house was dark and still. His training bag lay next to the stairs.
Jake was here?
She called out, but there was no response. With growing apprehension, she realized where he’d be.
Maggie walked into the darkened den. As her hand reached for the light switch, a rough voice stopped her short.
“I’m honored. It’s the paparazzi’s darling—The Divine Miss H.”
* * *
“MAKER’S MARK. ROCKS.” Jake held up his glass. “Want one?”
Maggie pursed her lips. “It’s a little early for booze.”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll get some tea.” The hurt in her brown eyes sent a fiery arrow into his gut.
His hungry gaze followed her out of the room.
What the hell was wrong with him? All he had to do was tell Maggie it was over. No need to be a jackass. Yet the harsh words had spewed from his mouth like lava from a volcano.
Why? He’d never had a problem closing out a relationship before. Usually glad to end things, he was always civil and able to move on without a backward glance. His heart had never caught the way it did every time he thought about a future without Maggie. He drained the glass and poured another.
With the glass halfway to his lips, he stilled. The problem with booze was it didn’t numb you quickly enough. Before you got to the happy oblivion it promised, you had to go through a nasty phase of total clarity and truth.
This was his moment of clarity. His truth was simple. He hadn’t been in love with those other women.
He was in love with Maggie.
A bubble of pure happiness welled up inside him.
Even as he savored the feeling, another truth hit, and damn if it wasn’t as cold and hard as the crystal tumbler he drank from.
That didn’t change anything.
Pain speared his chest, bursting the bubble and leaving shards of ice in its place. Time to head for oblivion.
To love.
Jake raised his glass in a mock toast, then tossed back the drink. Amber liquid burned its way down his throat.
Love sucked.
Maggie returned and perched on edge of the sofa, cradling her mug. “You haven’t been to practice?”
“Nope.”
“What about JB?”
“He’s out.”
“What’s going on, Jake?”
He hadn’t expected her to tackle him head-on. “What?”
“I’m not an idiot. One minute, you’re desperate to show the world we’re serious about each other. The next, you won’t answer my calls.”
That, ladies and gentlemen, sums up the sorry state of Jake Badoletti’s life.
Damn, his glass was empty. He poured another drink.
“You saw the U.K. coverage.” Her words were a statement, not a question.
“Yeah.”
“You assured me your plan would work.”
“I was wrong.” About so many things. About getting a second chance. About being able to change.
About deserving a woman like Maggie.
Her silence was damning. Finally she said, “That’s it?”
He shrugged, unable to share his thoughts.
“What happened to standing by me? Fighting with me?”
This conversation was killing him. He downed his drink. T
he bourbon soured his stomach but he didn’t care. “I need to focus on hockey right now.”
“I don’t see how the two things are related.”
“You watched the game?”
She nodded.
“You, me, this situation is a huge distraction I can’t afford.”
“You’re blaming your poor play on me?” She looked incredulous.
“I told you, I need to focus.” That line sounded as tired as he felt.
“So you’ll play better if we stop seeing each other?”
She made him sound like a temperamental child. She didn’t understand how much he’d agonized over his decision. The gut-wrenching torment that decision was causing.
“Yes.” He swallowed hard to shift the tightness in his throat, then forced the damning words out of his mouth. “I’m not interested in you anymore.”
“Really? Could have fooled me.” The wobble in her voice belied her cool expression.
“I don’t mean physically.” No way could he deny the attraction that sizzled between them. “It’s complicated.”
“Try me.” Her words were clipped. “I deserve the truth, Jake.”
A glint of copper caught his eye. Adam’s lucky penny lay on the table. The broken chain—Jake had ripped it off after the game—was reproachful.
She was right. He owed her the truth.
Jake reached past the internal turmoil, slowly being numbed by bourbon, and grabbed onto a festering kernel of self-disgust. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
Maggie arched an eyebrow, her distress stark in her eyes. “A stupid cliché is the best you can do?”
He shot her a frustrated look, which she met squarely.
“Why don’t you just admit it?” Her voice broke on the final word. She cleared her throat. “I’m not good enough for you.”
His heart contracted at the irony. “I’m a liability to you.”
“Right.” Her lips twisted.
He started to reach out to her, wanting to take her in his arms and comfort her. He dropped his hand. He couldn’t let his feelings for Maggie derail him. This was too important. Drawing on a strength of will honed by years of professional sport, he channeled the emotions roiling inside.
“Without me in your life, this will blow over.” Jake inhaled a raspy breath. “I’m already responsible for ruining one life. I won’t have yours on my conscience, too.”
“You’re talking about Adam?” she asked softly.
“He was a good man who didn’t get the chance to live the life he deserved. Adam died too damn young and I...didn’t.” His voice caught. “I let him down.”
“How?” There was no censure, just curiosity. “I thought he was driving.... His mistakes caused the accident.”
“He was.” His mind went back to that night. Relived each heart-stopping moment. “But something wasn’t right.” He visualized the sheen of sweat on Adam’s skin, the tremor in his hands. His friend’s wild laugh echoed in his ears. “Hadn’t been for weeks.”
He explained about Adam’s erratic behavior. “I deliberately avoided the problem, made excuses instead of confronting him. His weird actions that night were the last straw. I planned to tackle him about it after...” He drained his glass, welcoming the fiery burn as punishment for his guilt. “I never got the chance.”
“I’m sorry. I understand your pain.” Her gentle voice soothed him.
For a moment, he reveled in its warmth. Then he remembered what he had to do and rolled his shoulders to shake off the mantle of comfort.
“What happened made me realize I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become, so I tried to change. I’m determined to be the best player I can. Nothing, no one, can get in the way of that. I owe it to my parents and my team. I owe it to myself.” He met her steady dark gaze. “I owe it to Adam.”
“What about me?”
Hell, yes. He owed it to Maggie, too. “I’m the wrong guy for you.”
“In what way?”
Before he could speak, Maggie let out a choked laugh. “Never mind. You think I’m not capable of knowing what’s best for me.” Beneath the bitter words, anguish shimmered.
“You don’t understand...”
His words trailed off miserably, as he realized he’d skated into a trap.
“I let myself fall in love with you.” Her voice broke. “I thought you were different.”
His heart twisted as a tear trailed down her cheek.
She was in love with him? “I’m nothing like your ex.”
“Yet, like him, you’ve always known better.” Her watery smile was sad. “I won’t have my life dictated to me by any man. I need someone who believes in me the way I believe in him.”
She paused, probably waiting for him to reassure her.
The words wouldn’t come. Better to let her leave angry, disappointed, than to hurt her anymore.
“I thought as much.” Maggie rose and walked slowly to the door. “Good luck.”
It sounded like goodbye.
The pain that seared through him was crippling. Jake poured another shot—a double—but knew bourbon couldn’t soften the edge of his misery.
He’d done what he had to. He and Maggie were finished. No more worries, no more distractions. He could focus on winning the Cup.
He slammed the glass down, shattering it. A puddle of amber liquid spread over the table, then dripped to the floor. The fumes made his stomach rebel.
Maggie was better off without him. If only he could find a way to convince himself that he was better off without her.
* * *
RAGE. FRUSTRATION. HURT.
The tumult of emotions coursing through Maggie kept her going through the drive home. Once inside the house, her knees gave out and she slid to the floor.
She had no idea how long she sat there, slumped against the door. Cold seeped through her clothes, chilling her to the bone, but she hadn’t the will to move. Numbness gradually replaced pain.
She’d been a fool to hope that what they’d shared would be enough to overcome any problems. A sad laugh escaped her dry lips. Wrong again.
“What’s wrong, Mummy?” Emily’s voice pushed aside Maggie’s self-pity.
Averting her face, she tried to compose her expression. Perhaps Emily wouldn’t notice the misery shadowing her mother’s eyes.
No such luck. Emily knelt beside her. “Did you fight with Mr. Jake?”
There was no point lying; she’d find out soon enough. “Yes.”
“But you’re still going to marry him, right?”
Shocked, Maggie blurted out, “Married? Why would you think that?”
“Everyone’s been talking about it since Thanksgiving. How you’re ‘in love’—” Emily rolled her eyes “—and you’ll get engaged soon.”
Maggie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “We won’t. From now on, I won’t be seeing Mr. Jake at all.”
Emily’s face fell. “You’re not friends anymore?”
“No.”
Her daughter was silent for a moment. “When I fall out with my friends, you tell me to make up with them.”
Hoist by her own petard. “Sometimes, you can’t do that. Especially if they hurt you.”
“Like Daddy did?”
Maggie nodded, her throat tight.
“Mr. Jake didn’t hurt you like Daddy.” Disbelief rang in Emily’s tone. Maggie’s wasn’t the only heart he’d wormed his way into.
“No, sweetie. He’d never do that.”
“Then why can’t you make up?”
How could she explain? She didn’t want to bad-mouth Jake, but she needed Emily to understand this couldn’t be resolved. “We don’t get along anymore.”
“You don’t like each other?”
&nb
sp; “Not really.” Like? No. Love? Unfortunately, yes.
“Doesn’t Mr. Jake like me?”
Maggie’s heart squeezed. She hugged her daughter. “Of course he does. Even though we’re not together anymore, you’ll always be special to him.”
“Maybe you’ll change your minds.”
“We won’t.” Maggie’s tone was gentle but firm.
Emily tilted her head. “Does this mean we have to go home?”
Maggie deliberately hadn’t mentioned the forthcoming custody battle. There was no point upsetting Emily until the situation was clearer.
“Do you want to go back to England?” she asked cautiously.
“Nope. I want to live here. Can we?”
“We’ll see.”
“Okay. Can I watch The Aristocats?”
She’d barely nodded before Emily ran to the living room and started the DVD.
Maggie got to her feet slowly and went to stand at the living room door.
Emily turned. “It’ll be okay, Mummy.”
Her daughter’s innocent words tore through the numbness, exposing the raw emotions.
Choking back the tears, Maggie dashed into the kitchen and almost ran into Tracy.
Her sister handed her a glass of wine. “I figured you could use a sympathetic ear.”
The last vestiges of Maggie’s control vanished. Tears spilled over as she slumped into a chair. The whole miserable story flooded out.
“It’s déjà vu. I’m so stupid,” Maggie said brokenly.
“You’re not. Jake’s not Lee.”
“Breaking up with me for my own good is no different to Lee running my life.” She dashed a tear from her cheek. “Falling in love with Jake was another foolish mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t. Jake’s the idiot. Who sacrifices a lifetime of happiness with the most wonderful woman he’ll ever meet for the possibility of a moment of glory?”
Maggie sniffed. “You’re biased.”
“Sure, but it’s still the truth,” Tracy huffed. “Jake’s thrown away the one person who could help him see that he’s a good man. He’s so wrapped up in guilt about what happened to Adam, he’s lost sight of the kind of bloke he is. Jake said it himself—he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Dumping you is just another way for him to protect you.”
