I haven’t spoken to Rosie in two days, and I feel like my insides are on my outside. It’s terrible, and if I never felt like this again, it would still be too soon.
The worst part is, I can’t do anything to fix this. It’s all on her.
I meant it when I told her I’m all in because I am. I love her. I love her more than anything or anyone in my life. I hope my mother never finds that out, but it’s true.
That said, until she figures out what she wants, I can’t do anything about it.
“You look like the shit my dog took on the floor this morning.”
He’s probably right. We just beat Calgary 2–0. I should feel good, should feel like I’m on cloud nine, but I don’t. I feel like crap.
“When did you get a dog?” I ask Miller as he takes the spot beside me.
“I picked her up yesterday.” He pulls his phone out and flashes me a picture. “I have no idea what she is, definitely a mix of pit bull and something else, but isn’t she gorgeous? I’m in love with her.” He slides the phone back into his pocket. “I got her so Macie would like me best again. She’s so obsessed with you after you let her have a playdate with Carl, and I refuse to be shown up by the likes of you.”
I flash him my teeth, pushing my tongue through the hole there. “I still have this, you know, and she loves seeing how much of stuff I can fit in there.”
He holds his arms out. “Punch me, then. Knock my tooth out. I’ll fall right on that grenade.”
I shake my head, grinning for the first time in days. “Shut up, Miller.”
“Aw, you’re just saying that because you’re worried. Don’t worry, Fitzy Baby, I’ll always love you even if Macie doesn’t.”
“Leave him alone, Miller,” Greer says from across the room.
The guy in question sighs, then rises to his feet. “Fine—but I’m only going because I have to go meet Scout. We’re going shopping for toys and stuff for little Mooseknuckle.”
“You cannot name your dog Mooseknuckle.”
He scoffs. “Says the guy with the female cat named Carl.”
He shakes his head like I’m the crazy one, then walks out of the room. I’d never tell him this, but I kind of miss him when he goes. He might just be the best distraction there is, mostly because it’s easy to laugh at him.
“How you holding up, man?”
I drag my eyes across the room, unsurprised to find a scowling Greer looking my way. He shouldn’t be scowling, not after that shutout win, but of course he is. He always is. That’s just who he is.
I sigh, then drop back into my cubby. I could lie to him. I could tell him I’m fine and things will be fine, but I don’t have it in me to lie.
“Not good, Greer. Not good at all.”
He nods. “I get it.”
“Do you? Your perfect girl is probably waiting for you to come home to your perfect life with your perfect daughter-to-be. Mine is…” I trail off, not willing to admit I have no clue what Rosie is doing. I wish I did, but I don’t. I want to reach out to her so badly it’s hard to concentrate on anything else. It’s fucking weird living in this limbo.
Greer huffs out a laugh. “It’s not perfect.”
“No? You’re telling me you two aren’t madly in love, then?”
“Well, yeah, we are, but we aren’t perfect—not by a long shot.” He sighs. “We bicker daily. I’m a grumpy asshole, and she’s stubborn to her core. Also, Macie can be annoying as hell sometimes because she’s a kid and kids are the worst.”
“I’m not sure you’re allowed to say that now that you’re dating a girl with a kid.”
He shrugs, not caring. “Just being honest. Relationships aren’t always easy. In fact, they kind of blow sometimes. Even when things are amazing, they don’t stay that way. It’s like hockey: it’s just grinding and working hard every day, hoping the result is what you want.”
I laugh sardonically. “Thanks for the relationship advice. It’s just what I wanted from a guy who only started believing in love this year.”
He narrows his eyes. “Well, maybe you’ll like hearing it from a guy who almost lost everything he loves by letting his emotions get the better of him and nearly ruin everything.”
“If you think I’m the one who did that, you’re wrong. It wasn’t me. It was her. She’s the one who is all… I don’t even know what she is.”
“And you think she does? Someone from her past—someone who broke her heart once—just came back. She’s probably going through some shit you can’t understand. Maybe she just needs space to figure things out.”
When I don’t say anything, he goes back to knocking things around in his cubby. It’s several tense minutes before he looks my way again, giving me a hard stare.
“What.” It’s not really a question, mostly because I’m over questions today. I just want him to say whatever the fuck he has to say, then leave me alone to wallow.
“You know she doesn’t love him, right?”
I nod. “I know that.”
That’s the thing. I do know. I know she’s over him. I know it’s not him she loves.
But I’m not so sure she loves herself either.
“Okay. Then you know she loves you, right?”
I don’t say anything because I don’t know that. I want to believe she does, want to believe it so fucking badly, but it’s hard to at the moment.
Greer sighs. “Just give her some time, man. Give her space. As much as it sucks, she needs that more than she needs you.”
His words hit me right in the chest, the pain spreading throughout my body.
Ah, hell. Who am I kidding? That pain has been there for days, and with each minute that passes with me not knowing what Rosie is doing, it gets worse.
“Look,” he says, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Things with Rosie will work out. I know they will.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Are you kidding me?” He sweeps his arm out wide. “Look at this damn team, man. We’re dropping like flies, another one of us falling in love every damn day—even me. I never in my life thought I would be here, madly in love with a woman I sure as fuck don’t deserve, but I am. Wright, Rhodes, Lowell, Smith, and Miller are too. All those relationships turned out fine, and if you let it, yours will too.”
He walks over to me and pats my shoulder twice, clearly uncomfortable with comforting me. It would make me laugh if I didn’t feel like such shit right now.
“She’ll come back to you. Just be patient.”
I nod. “Thanks, Greer.”
“Yeah, course. Any time.”
He gives me a sad smile before taking off, leaving me alone in the locker room trying to figure out my life.
I’m glad he has faith it will all work out.
Me? I’m not so sure…and I’m not sure I’m ready to find out.
I’ve been sitting at my computer for the last hour staring at the black screen in front of me. I’ve managed to power it on twice before shutting it off each time.
Now, the blue light at the bottom of my monitor is taunting me, and it’s taking everything I have not to yank it from the wall and chuck it out the window. I’ve been itching to see Rosie, and I know this is the only way I can see her. Another two days have passed without hearing from her, and we’re now sitting at four days way too fucking many.
It’s harder than I thought going without her. Sure, we haven’t been together that long, but she’s been in my life daily for a year now. Suddenly not seeing her…it feels wrong, like my entire universe has been flipped around and I don’t know which way is up or down. I went from a fourteen-game point streak to nothing in back-to-back games, and I haven’t had a strawberry since I dug into the strawberry pie she made for Thanksgiving, not even my usual after-game smoothie.
Everything is off and all wrong.
It’s crazy how everything I thought was so boring about my life suddenly didn’t feel boring anymore with her by my side, how all the things I didn’t like about myself suddenly became my favorite things because they were her favorite things. She made me feel like I belonged, like I was good enough.
I fucking miss her, and I need to see her.
Even though I don’t want to invade her privacy and want to respect her space, logging into my old account feels like the only option to see her. Besides, I just want to make sure she’s okay, check in with her. There’s no harm in that, right?
Meow.
I look over just in time to see Carl strut into my office. She’s been avoiding me for the last few days too. Girls always stick together, right?
She makes her way across the room, surprising me when she rubs against my leg.
“All right. Come on,” I tell her, bending down to pick her up.
Meow.
“I know.” I scratch under her chin just like she likes. “I miss her too.”
Meow.
“I wish I could see her.”
Carl hops out of my arms and onto my keyboard.
“Hey!” I try to shoo her away, but she ignores me like she always does. “Get off there, you little shithead.”
Suddenly the fans of the computer spin to life and the monitor turns on.
Meow.
I grab Carl, tucking her back into my lap, then hovering my finger over the sleep button on my keyboard.
Meow.
“Hush,” I tell her. “I’ll lock you in the pantry again.” Though I’m sure she would love that since I bought her a fresh loaf of bread this morning. She’d be damn comfortable in there.
I go to click the button, but I’m stopped by the little paw that reaches out, swatting at my hand.
“Carl, I swear to god, I’m going to—”
The words die on my lips when I look down.
I’m possessed again. I have to be. That’s the only reason for the mouse to be in my hand because I sure as hell don’t remember grabbing it.
“Might as well,” I mumble.
I click on the internet icon, then navigate to the site I promised Rosie I’d unsubscribe to. Technically, I did. I stopped following her account—but I didn’t delete mine. It’s not because I plan on using it again to watch other women, but just in case she and I ever want to experiment.
I log in, then hold my breath as I type in her username with one hand and hit go on the search bar.
This user cannot be found.
“What the…” I sit forward, reading the message again.
Nope. It still says the same thing.
“Maybe I typed it in wrong.”
I hit backspace several times, then type it again: R-O-P-L-A-Y-I-N-G. I hit go and the page refreshes.
This user cannot be found.
It’s wrong. It has to be. There’s no way she can’t be found unless…
“She deleted her account.”
Meow.
I’m pretty sure Carl’s latest vocalization translates to, No shit, idiot. Now give me a treat.
But why? Why did Rosie delete her account? And what does it mean? Is she done streaming? Is she done with…me?
Emotion claws at my throat with that thought. I don’t want her to be done with me. I want her to figure out what she wants and I want her to want me, but more than that, I want Rosie to be happy. If that means she doesn’t stream and she goes back to whoever she was before and tells me to get lost, I guess that’s okay with me too.
But really…really, I hope she chooses me, because I damn sure choose her, and I’ll choose her every day for the rest of my life if she’ll let me.
I just need her to believe that too.
