Icebound: Chapter 33

“You what?”

My entire body stiffens while I replay the words over and over in my head like my favorite song.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I don’t care if it’s an alcohol-induced confession, it’s everything I’ve wanted to hear, and I need to make sure I’m not imagining this moment.

The goofy smile falls from his face like what he’s about to say is of the utmost importance. “I said, I love you, and I want to keep you forever. Shit, that sounds bad, but you know what I mean.”

“Rhode…” I tangle my hands in his hair. “What about a family? What about everything you want? I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. You’re setting me free.” His fingers tighten around my waist. “I only want those things if I get to have them with you. If it means waiting, then I will.” His glassy eyes bouncing between mine like he’s nervous. “Do you want them with me or not?”

“Yes, of course I want them with you. I’m just not ready for them yet. I still want all those things, but it doesn’t change that I’m leaving.”

“What if I came with you?” he slurs. “To Argentina? I’m shit at pottery, but I’ll make a vase for you. I want to be with you for always.”

A laugh bubbles out of me at his blurry words. He’s painting a pretty picture with his idealistic dreams, but I’m not going to latch onto an alcohol-laden promise.

“Okay, Rhode. You can come with me.”

“No. I’m serious,” he mumbles, pulling back to frown at me with half-lidded eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“Okay, okay,” I say to soothe his drunken rambling. “You can come with me to Argentina, and we’ll build a life together there.”

He buries his head in my neck, his shoulders loosening. “Good, because I know I’m a little drunk, alright, a lot drunk, but I love you so damn much. I think you’re honest, even though you lied about being a doctor, but pottery’s better, and I love that you stand up for me, and you make me feel like my life isn’t over. This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, so you don’t have to say it back, and right now, your head’s spinning, or maybe it’s my head, and I think I’ll forget if you say it, and I don’t want to forget hearing you say you love me.”

He hiccups.

I laugh.

The man’s so drunk and so silly and so mine.

As I stroke his hair, I realize Rhode Tremblay could’ve so easily stayed a stranger. If I hadn’t walked in on Gwen and Isaac that night, if she’d never been with him in the first place, I wouldn’t have met this incredible man.

Our lives would’ve been orbiting around each other, maybe crossing, but probably not. My throat tightens as I stare at his smoky lashes fanning across his cheeks.

Rhode blurts out those three little words like they’re too big to be contained while I’ve locked my love for him in a treasure box. I thought if I never said the words, I could take them back, but I don’t want to be the type that hoards love for no one to see.

I want to love loud.

I run my fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands in that way that always makes his cerulean eyes darken. “I know the punchline.”

His brows come together. “What punchline?”

“To our terrible joke.” I press my smile to his warm whiskey lips. “The doctor falls in love with the plumber.”

Rhode blinks like he’s trying to process my words, but when his brain seems to make the connection, a huge grin cracks across his face, lighting him up with contagious happiness. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you, Rhode Tremblay, and when you wake up tomorrow with a pounding headache, I’ll say it again to remind you.”

His lips slam into mine with so much force, we nearly tumble off the couch.

The kiss is demanding. Raw. Real.

Our tongues tangle in what’s becoming a familiar dance. We eventually run out of air and pull back to catch our breath. He presses his forehead to mine, thumbs brushing my cheeks.

Nose to nose. Chest to chest. Heart to heart.

Rhode looks how I feel, a bit stunned. A little hungry for more.

After we kiss and love each other thoroughly, very thoroughly, we drift off to sleep, naked in each other’s arms.

We wake up the next morning the same way, and the day after that, and the day after that, until one morning, Rhode’s gone. There’s a note on his nightstand, scrawled in his surprisingly romantic handwriting.

A press conference? He’s been working his ass off in rehab every day this week, and I hope this means he’s announcing his comeback next season.

Grabbing my purse, I head back to my place to get more clothes since I can’t live in Rhode’s sweats, no matter how good they smell. I text Gwen to let her know I’m on my way, but she doesn’t respond.

She’s barely talked to me over the past three weeks, and for the first time, thanks to Rhode’s constant pestering, I’ve been trying—calling, texting. I get nothing back.

When I get to our apartment, I jiggle my keys in the lock, swing open the apartment door, and step into a smoky haze. A cough erupts from my chest. The shrill wail of the fire alarm pierces through the smoke cloud, drowning out every other noise.

“Gwen!” I shout, running into the kitchen. She’s bent over the oven, and thick, pitch-black smoke billows out from its opening. “Holy shit. What happened?”

“There’s a flood,” she screams, opening cabinet after cabinet. “What do you think happened? My food burned. Get the extinguisher!”

At least she’s making jokes. I plug my ears. “Where’s the fire extinguisher?”

“I don’t know!” she screams over the alarm. “Check under the sink!”

Wincing at the high-pitched wails, I rummage through our cabinets, pulling out everything but the kitchen sink until, finally, my hands close around the red tube. “Got it!”

“Open it!”

“How?”

“Read the instructions!”

I scan the label. P.A.S.S. Pull. Aim. Squeeze. Sweep. Pulling the safety pin, I follow the instructions. White foam bursts from the extinguisher, dousing Gwen and smothering the flames. I spray until she looks like a snowman, the fire’s gone, and the alarm stops blaring.

With a huff, she swipes the foam from her face. “You were supposed to aim at the flames!”

“You were supposed to know how to cook!” I retort.

“I didn’t know the plastic from the meal container was flammable!”

We stand in the kitchen-turned-foam battleground with heaving chests, glaring at each other in a standoff. Gwen’s covered from head to toe. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look like an utter mess.

A giggle bubbles out of my mouth, and once it starts, laughter spews from my lips like a geyser. The relief from the situation hits me in full force.

She’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

Gwen’s laughter joins mine, and we quickly escalate into uncontrollable snort-fits. It’s the type of laughter that keeps rolling, getting bigger the longer it lasts.

We’re laughing until we can’t remember why we started laughing.

We’re laughing until we’re wiping tears.

We’re laughing until we can’t breathe.

We’re laughing at each other the way only sisters do—ugly and loud and a little mean because it’s at each other—but it’s okay because underneath all that is an unshakeable love.

When we finally catch our breath and wipe the tears from our eyes, the smoke has faded in the kitchen. We stand there, a foamy mess, until Gwen sinks to the tile, resting her back against the counter. I take a seat next to her.

Gwen stares at the cardinal by the kitchen sink window like it’s the most interesting lecture in the world.

My lips curl up at the gentle serenade, but then she yanks off her shoe and launches it like a frisbee at the glass, scaring the poor bird so it flies off.

“Gwen!” I gasp. “The bird didn’t do anything to you. Don’t be mean.”

“It was annoying me,” she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut, and then, another giggle bursts from her lips.

I bump her. “I’ve missed laughing with you.”

She picks at her nails. “Me too, but I haven’t felt like laughing much lately.”

I peer at the dark circles under her eyes like she’s been tossing every night for the past three weeks. To my absolute shock, her stare turns glassy. She swipes at her eyes but remembers she has foam on her hands and uses her shirt to wipe it away instead.

“What happened?” I interlace my fingers through hers. “Do I need to go buy some eggs from the store so we can throw them at Isaac’s house? Maybe toilet paper the trees like we’re in an old movie? Because I’ll do it. I’ll go to toilet paper war for you, Gwen.”

She sniffs. “No, we’re not doing that. That’s ridiculous.”

I clasp her hand like she could drift away. “Okay, then talk to me. You never even told me what happened.”

She stares at our hands. “You never asked what happened.”

My guilt grows claws, gnawing through my stomach. Gwen’s the one who always pushes when I pull, and I think, sometimes, I take it for granted. I thought it was her duty as the oldest, but I hope she pushes because she wants me in her life as much as I want her in mine.

“Yeah, I know, but I’m asking now.” After a minute of silence, I nudge her again. “Come on, talk to me.”

“Fine, but it’s not a big deal, so don’t scream in my ear like you always do.” She heaves a sigh. “Isaac ended things a while ago. I never told you this, but when I went to the doctor to look at freezing my eggs—”

“You did what?”

“Yeah, that’s another story. Anyway, I found out it’s going to be really difficult for me to have kids. That led to a whole thing. I told Isaac that, and he broke up with me because I guess I’m not enough. Anyway, that’s what happened. Are you hungry? We can get takeout since I burned the kitchen.”

Only Gwen could make that confession sound like a weather report. Her face is expressionless, but I know she only turns to stone when she feels the most. “I’m so sorry, Gwen, for all of it. Are you okay? You always said you weren’t sure about having kids.”

She’s quiet for a long time, twirling her thumbs. “You know, it took me having the option taken away to realize how badly I want that, but it’s probably for the best. I’d make a shitty mom.”

She spits the bitter words, and my heart overflows with sympathy. “No, you wouldn’t, and if that’s something you really want, you still have options. You can adopt or freeze your eggs. I don’t know the details, but I’ll help you.”

“It’s fine,” she sighs. “I mean, it’s not fine, but I can’t talk about this…”

“Okay, but if you ever need someone to listen, I’ve got big ears.”

She gives me a look. “What? I don’t get that.”

“Oh, um… Never mind. It’s a thing with me and Rhode.”

She smiles at that. “I’m happy you’re happy, by the way. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about everything with Isaac. Sometimes, I kind of hate myself for what I did to you. I really did think I was in love with him, but looking back, I never should’ve betrayed you like that.”

“So, why did you?” I whisper.

She twirls her thumbs. “I don’t know. You’re so much better than me. I guess I just wanted something you had because I’ve always been jealous of you.”

“What?” I jolt forward, brows soaring. “Why would you be jealous of me?”

She shoots me a wry glance. “Really, Nina? You’re funny, smart, and so brave for going against everyone and doing what you love with your fellowship. I’ve always been ambitious for the sake of being ambitious, trying to please everyone because I thought that would please me, but you’re so authentically yourself. You don’t care what people think.”

“I definitely care what other people think. I just pretend like I don’t.”

“It doesn’t seem that way.” She interlaces her fingers through mine, resting her foamy cheek on my head.

“Well, I’ve been comparing myself to you because you’re perfect and you don’t have to deal with a mess living inside your brain.”

“I’m not perfect, and you’re not a mess.” Gwen chuckles dryly. “So, we’ve both been spending our entire lives comparing ourselves to each other?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I stare down at our feet which are exactly the same size. “What a waste of fucking time.”

My entire life, I’ve watched her climb these mountains of success while I’ve been dragging myself out of a ditch, and people only clap at life’s summits even though they both take the same amount of strength.

Gwen has her flaws, but we’ve both made mistakes. She might’ve stolen Isaac and lied to me, but three years ago, I told her that I hated her daily. Neither one of us was a sister worth fighting for. I never realized how far I’ve come from the pits of my own demons.

I clench her hand in a vice. “Isaac’s such a dick. What’d we ever see in him?”

“I don’t know…” She chews her bottom lip. “He had a nice ass.”

I scoff. “Have you felt Rhode’s? It’s like squeezing a rock. I love his ass.”

“No, and I would never.” The cardinal lands on the branch outside the window again, chirping softly. We’re quiet for a while as we both listen. “So you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“I’m not.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, Gwen. I promise, but I’ll probably be mad at you again tomorrow because that’s what we do.”

“That’s fine as long as you promise that I’ll never lose you. You’re all I have left.”

I squeeze her hand. “You won’t lose me. No matter what. You’re my infinity.”

“That makes literally no sense,” Gwen blurts.

“What are you talking about?” I snap back. “It makes total sense.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense at all.”

I lift my head from her shoulder, glaring into her green eyes. “You’re ruining this.”

“I think you did that all by yourself. Infinity? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I don’t want to explain it now because it’s not going to sound as good.”

“Would you just tell me?” she barks.

“Fine, okay,” I say through gritted teeth. “What I mean is that you were there the day I was born, and when our parents are gone, you’ll still be here. Our parents don’t get the end, and our partners won’t get the beginning, but you get it all. You’re my infinity.”

I clear my throat because it’s a little tight. “But now that I’m saying it out loud, I’m kind of regretting it because I sound like a card, so go ahead. Make fun of me.”

She quirks a smile, tightly looping her arm through mine. “I’m not making fun of you. I love you.”

Happiness fizzles in my chest, bright and bubbly, and I finally say the words I’ve held back for so long. “I love you, too.”

She snorts. “Infinitely.”

I shoot her a lackluster glare. “Never mind. You’re the worst. I hate you,” I say, smiling through the hollow words.

We get up and clean the kitchen, picking up right where we left off, and I know that no matter what happens, no matter where we go in life, and no matter how much I hate her sometimes, I’ll always have Gwen, for better or for worse. Sisterhood is wonderfully horrible and terribly messy, and we might never see eye to eye, but we’ll always stand shoulder to shoulder.

We laugh and talk for over an hour until the kitchen is as fresh as our new start. My phone buzzes in my lap, and I glance at Micah’s text.

A second later, Micah sends a link to an article. Rhode Tremblay Announces Retirement Following Storied Career with Guardians in Press Conference: Wish I Could Play Forever.

My stomach drops as I speed-read the headline. I completely forgot about the press conference with the fire incident, but I didn’t realize it was about his retirement. He left out that one little detail, which would’ve been nice to know. Irritation prickles as I read the article.

“Gwen?”

“Yeah?”

I show her my phone screen, and her eyes bulge. “Can you drive me to the arena? I need to go yell at the man I love.”