any solid decisions,” my agent says. “You’ll be flying out to Dover this upcoming week. I’ll make all the arrangements online and get back to you.”
“Yeah, that sounds just wonderful,” I mutter sarcastically.
Once I wrap up with my agent, I place the phone back down on the counter with a clunk.
I’m afraid to look over at Becca.
I know what I’ll see in her eyes—hurt, disappointment, disbelief, and a myriad of other emotions I can’t even fathom at this point.
That’s why I just stare at the granite countertop until my vision gets blurry.
It’s only when Becca comes over and places her hand on my back that I realize I can’t avoid the inevitable.
So I turn to her.
There are tears in her eyes, plus all the emotions I anticipated.
Neither of us says a word.
There’s no need.
We both know our relationship has just been dealt a potentially devastating blow.
Keep On Running
I was right to be scared.
I knew this relationship was too good to be true.
I should never have opened my heart.
I should’ve kept on running, like when I bolted from the theatre.
Somewhere deep inside, I knew it then—Lars and I are doomed.
Fate is freaking out to get me, I swear.
But it’s not so easy to just take off.
I’m in it now.
I go to Lars, placing my hand on his bare back.
His skin is so warm and smooth to the touch.
It reminds me that he’s here… but most likely not for long.
He turns to me.
He sees the tears in my eyes, the despair, the question of what do we do now.
At last, he shrugs.
He’s as broken about this as I am.
Finally I whisper, “I tried to be strong and will them away. My tears, that is. I just couldn’t do it.”
As one lone traitorous tear escapes, trailing down my cheek, Lars brushes it away with his thumb.
“Me leaving is not a sure thing,” he says. “You heard my agent. The Sharks are just ‘interested’ at this point.”
“Yeah, right, just interested…” I trail off, laughing bitterly.
I am having none of this pep talk.
“Let’s not sugarcoat it, Lars,” I snap. “You’re probably going to end up leaving Ohio for good.”
Softly, he admits, “I can’t lie. There is a strong chance that will happen.”
“A better than strong chance,” I counter. “You said it yourself—the Comets could save lots of money by unloading your contract. And the Sharks would finally have the great receiver they so badly want and need.”
“Becca—”
I shake my head, holding up a hand. “Can we drop this subject? Please?”
“All right, sure. Do you want to eat breakfast still?”
“No.”
My appetite is ruined, so Lars shuts down all the cooking.
After we place the sausage muffin sandwiches he made into plastic containers, we put them in the fridge.
“Do you want to go to the living room?” he asks.
“Sure.”
I am numb.
Once we’re seated on the sofa, Lars leans back and runs his hand down his face. “Becca, please, don’t shut me out.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“But you are. I feel it. And we don’t even know what’s happening yet.”
“That’s true.” I sigh. “I guess this is life, huh? Always throwing curveballs.”
I feel a fresh round of tears coming on, and Lars, noticing, says, “Hey, let’s focus on something else. Like our good times, okay?”
“How do you mean?” I ask, sniffling.
“I don’t know. Let’s do a little reminiscing. Thinking of all of our fun times always lifts my spirits when I’m feeling down.”
Blinking over at him, I ask, “You think about us to feel better?”
Scooting closer, he places his hand on my knee. “I do, Becca. I reminisce about us a lot. And you know what?”
“What?”
“It works. Doing so makes me feel better every time.”
“Okay”—I lean the other way from him so I can rest my back against the sofa arm and stretch my legs across his lap—“let’s do it.”
Chuckling and squeezing my calf, he says, “Okay, we’ll start with this one, one of my faves. Do you remember our first night at the theatre?”
I laugh. “How could I ever forget?”
“Right?”
“So what about it?”
Raising a brow, he asks, “What did you really think of me at first?”
“Ah, that’s an easy one. I thought you were super hot.”
He looks at me doubtfully. “You could see all the way to the back of the theatre in that dim lighting?”
“Enough to know you were sexy, yes.”
“Is that why you came back to sit in the last row with me?”
“Hell, yeah!”
“I kind of knew that,” he replies smugly.
“Hey!” Sitting up, I playfully smack his arm.
Smirking, he tells me, “You weren’t exactly subtle, Becs.”
“Lars!” I