You Had Me at Hockey (Bears Hockey #2) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,82

it all about you?”

My frown intensifies. “What the fuck?”

He meets my eyes. “We all went through hell, Josh.”

He used my real name, which means this is serious shit. “I know.”

“Do you? It sounded like you hadn’t really thought much about anyone else but yourself and how miserable you were.”

I open my mouth to defend myself again, then slowly close it.

He has a point.

All these years, I’ve held on to my own suffering. I knew in my head that others had been impacted too, but now shame crawls over my skin.

“I’m not saying you didn’t have a right to be miserable.” Easton holds up a hand. “Obviously you did. I knew you’d been busted up pretty bad, but I was dealing with my own shit too.” He tips his head back briefly, then meets my eyes. “I felt…the same. I didn’t blame you, but fuck…I lost my brother, my dad, then my mom. My whole team. And my best friends.” He meets my eyes and my gut churns at his words. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

My throat thickens. I keep my face sternly impassive, my body tense. My thoughts bounce around in my head. He just said he’s sorry. All these years I’ve nursed the bitterness inside me, blaming him and Hunter for abandoning me when I was so low. Nobody can change what happened. But…hearing him acknowledge that he hadn’t been there for me and that he was sorry…and knowing he couldn’t be there…makes me feel like shit.

I thought I’d feel better if I heard that from him.

Instead, he’s making me look inside myself and see that I was selfish too. I never thought much about what he or Hunter were going through. I just wallowed in self-pity.

I nod, trying to swallow. “Fuck, man. I’m sorry too.” That’s all I can get out for a moment, so it’s good that our lunches arrive. I pretend I’m fine, arranging my cutlery, letting the waitress refill my water glass. I stare down at the bowl in front of me, not even sure what I’m looking at.

Then I lift my eyes and try again. “I was selfish,” I admit. “At first I was too out of it from the head injury and the surgeries. I knew Bryce and your dad had died. I didn’t know about your mom. I’m sorry.”

He nods. “We were kids. Teenagers.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you either,” I add quietly.

“You were in the hospital.”

“I could have done something. I could have tried to call you. I thought of it, a few times, but…I felt like, what was the point. I was messed up. I didn’t have the energy.”

“I get it. I do.”

Our eyes meet. And I know…he does get it. I’ve been so fucking pissed at him for years, and yet he’s the only other person in my life who truly knows.

“All I had left was hockey,” he says. “I felt like my mom didn’t care enough about me to even try to cope. It took me a long time to learn that she couldn’t help it. She has to be on medication all the time now. She just couldn’t do it. Same as you couldn’t get out of your hospital bed and drive to Regina.”

I nod. “Fuck. That really sucks.” It sinks in that he’s gone through his own hell, thinking his mom didn’t even care. “But I get it, about hockey being all there is. It’s been more than a game. It helps me forget the world, all the real-life pain and problems.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

There’s another moment of shared understanding as we both nod. A connection I haven’t felt with anyone else since before the accident. And the last time I felt this, it was with him and Hunter.

Okay, anyone else except Sara. But the connection I feel with her is different. It’s not based on a shared passion for hockey or a shared painful past. It’s based on something else…she gets me on a different level, knowing that I feel different from other people because of what happened to me…because she feels different too. And yet, we match…perfectly.

Fuck. I close my eyes. I have to shove those kinds of thoughts away, especially right now, talking to Easton.

“I was selfish, too,” Easton continues. “I just wanted to get drafted. My whole life at that point was focused on that day. Then…it wasn’t how I’d imagined it…with my parents there, even Bryce, celebrating with them and with my friends. Nobody was