Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Your family knew?”
“Yeah… they knew and supported me. They knew we were headed for a divorce, and they stood by my side.”
“But that didn’t happen,” Ava says softly. “Because Melissa got sick.”
“Her cancer made all the anger between us moot. Instantly, it was gone. She was terrified, and I was crippled with guilt, so there was no longer room for us to be mad at each other. I immediately moved back into the house to help her through it. Both of us put aside our differences so we could concentrate on her getting better.”
“I think that’s a beautiful decision you made.”
Maybe, maybe not. “When we found out she wasn’t going to get better and was going to deteriorate, I left hockey so I could be her full-time caretaker.”
“You gave up everything,” she murmurs. “Melissa was a very lucky woman.”
A surge of self-loathing hits me, but I continue with my honest purging to Ava. “What’s funny is that everyone thought I was such a saint, sacrificing my hockey career. But honestly, I had to think about it really hard. I had great moments of selfishness where I thought it would be easier for me to just go my own way. In the end, I couldn’t let her go it alone. I might not have loved her the same way, but I still loved her. And I had to do the right thing.”
“It was absolutely the right thing,” Ava assures me.
“But the problem is that Connie saw me give that all up for Melissa, having no clue we were on the brink of divorce. She’s got this romanticized version of events in her head that Melissa was it for me and that I can’t move on. That I’m stuck in grief the way she is. It’s exhausting trying to validate her and stay true to myself at the same time. And then I feel guilty that I don’t feel the way she does.”
“Don’t,” Ava says, sitting up straight and going to her hip to face me. “You went above and beyond for Melissa. You did your duty as a husband through sickness and health. Grieving is so personal, and you cannot expect your grief to be the same as Connie’s.”
Reaching out, I take Ava’s hand, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. “My grieving started in earnest when we found out she wasn’t going to get better. She was so sick, and it took weeks for her to die. Weeks that I was bereaved so that by the time she let go, I was relieved. Not because I could have my life back, but because she was free and without pain.
“Her mom didn’t want her to die and would sit at her bedside begging for her to hang on. I always wondered if Melissa could hear her, but she was deeply sedated because of the pain. Connie would leave, and I’d spend hours talking to Melissa telling her the exact opposite. That it was okay to let go and leave the suffering behind. When she died, most of my heavy grieving had been done. Not all of it, but most. Connie went deeper and just can’t seem to climb out of it.”
Ava raises our intertwined hands and kisses my wrist before settling them back down on my stomach. “Melissa was her child. It’s going to be so much deeper and more hurtful, and it’s wrong for her to think it’s the same for you.”
“I know. I need to have an honest conversation with her, but now isn’t the time. Tomorrow is the anniversary of Melissa’s death.”
“I knew that from the article I read.” Ava lifts her gaze, eyes gentle and sympathetic. “Nine years, right?”
“Nine years.” I lift our hands again before us to study the tenuous bonds before sliding my eyes to hers. “And while I don’t grieve deeply anymore, that experience has changed me. You know I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy—not my style—but I don’t allow myself to go very deep into a relationship.”
“I think I’ve figured that out,” she says. I detect no sadness or disappointment in her short acceptance, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved.
“After I stepped back into the dating world, I didn’t find anyone who made me want to try for something deeper. I have care to give to another person, and I’m wired for monogamy, but there’s never been love. In my short-lived relationships, we never seemed to be on the same journey. They always wanted to progress, and I seemed to stall. I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this. I just want to be transparent about my past.”
Ava pulls our hands down but doesn’t release her hold. She tilts her head. “I am not going to assume that your inability to love again was because Melissa was the one and only for you. But I will assume when you’re ready for it again, you’ll know it. Or you’ll know that you’ll never be ready.”