pillows. Fucking, damn pillows.
I rolled over onto my back, propped the pillows behind my head, and flipped through the channels, finally settling on a soap opera of all things. Like I needed more drama in my life.
After five minutes of the nurse revealing she was married to two of the doctors in the hospital and having an affair with two more, I flipped through more channels and found the Food Channel, always my personal favorite outside of the hockey channel. Even the sight of peaches flambeau with a soft flame burning didn’t lighten my crappy mood. Next up was another French dish I couldn’t pronounce, but it looked damn good.
My stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten since last night. While my heart might be damaged, my appetite wasn’t. I thumbed through the room service menu and ordered soup, salad, and a club sandwich. That should do it.
Once I hung up, I paced the floor, going over the previous night in my head, but I didn’t come up with a better solution. Lanie was where she needed to be.
If I pulled a “Steele” and made a list, everything would be in favor of Delaney staying here: safety, following her dream, new job, old friends, family, etc. On my side would be one thing—I loved her.
I’d thought it’d always be enough, but it wasn’t.
Losing her made me sick to death, but I’d done the right thing—the only thing. Maybe last night didn’t have to be goodbye. Maybe someday our paths would cross, and we’d be given another chance.
Maybe.
But for now, my heart was truly broken.
My phone buzzed. It was Lanie. My heart quickened with the insane hope she’d decided to go with me, but that was a stupid thing to think. She was lost to me.
Lanie: Where are you?
Me: At the airport.
Lanie: You didn’t say goodbye.
Me: It’s better this way.
Lanie: I’m on my way. We have to talk before you go.
My finger itched to tap out where I was, but I held back. I wouldn’t do this to her. She’d hate me at some point for destroying her dreams. Her hatred would be harder to live with than not having her at all. I tapped out my answer. The only answer I could give her.
Me: Sorry, the plane’s already boarding.
I love you, and only you, forever, I whispered, but I didn’t put that statement into a text.
I shut off the phone, not in the mood to communicate any further. There wasn’t anything further to say other than torturing both of us. Our relationship had been doomed from the beginning. I’d probably always known that, but I’d fought it. Now I didn’t have any fight left in me. It was time to go home and pick up the pieces of my life.
At least I still had hockey.
Without hockey, I didn’t know what I’d do.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Rip
~~Delaney~~
I sat back in the plush leather seat of the Town Car and sighed. The streetlights began to blink on. It was that timeframe between dusk and darkness, where the lights didn’t really help yet with visibility.
“Where to, Ms. Delaney?” the driver asked. Hennessy had been driving my father around for years, along with other duties as assigned. No one called him by his first name. In fact, I didn’t remember what his name was.
“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to meet my father at the Empire.”
Dad’s friend, the senator who offered me the job, would be dining with us tonight to discuss the specifics of the position. I should’ve been excited, but I wasn’t able to bust through this funk I was in since Kaden left.
“You look as down as your boyfriend did early this morning.”
My head shot up, and I leaned forward, eager for even a tidbit of news regarding Kaden. “My boyfriend? You gave him a ride to the airport?” I didn’t want to say much in front of my bodyguard, who sat directly in front of me.
“No, actually, he wasn’t able to get a flight out until tomorrow. I gave him a ride to the Marriott at the airport.”
The Marriott?
He’d told me a few hours ago that he was boarding the plane. He’d lied to me. He hadn’t wanted to see me. I knew why. This was hard enough without me making it harder by being wishy-washy.
I didn’t speak for the rest of the drive as I was too busy living in my own head. Hennessey pulled the car onto the street and in the direction of the Empire. Regret pummeled me as I debated whether or