The Faker: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Boston Hawks Hockey), Gina Azzi [pocket ebook reader .TXT] 📗

“I miss you too, Torst.” Her words are exactly what I want to hear but the emotion underlining them, the hurt and the thinly veiled anger, causes my stomach to twist.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away, Ri. You were right when you said I didn’t ask what you wanted. I thought I knew better and I did what I thought was best without ever considering your thoughts.” I blurt out the truth, needing her to know that I realize just how epically I messed things up between us.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “It seems to be a theme in my life.” I frown but before I can ask, she volunteers the information. “My dad.”

“Are you guys talking again?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I should tell her I’ve had eyes on her since she landed in New York but right now, I don’t want to rock the boat. The truth is, I’ll never not worry about Rielle. Panic seized me when she left Norway with no access to cash, no plan, no nothing. Immediately, I called a guy I know in the city to keep an eye on her. He keeps assuring me she’s fine and still, I can’t let her safety go.

“Yes. We’ve been spending some time together. I’m staying with Jesse, my brother, in the city. Reconnecting with my family has been good for me.”

“Good. That’s great, Rielle. I’m…I’m really happy for you.”

“I’m happy for you, too. Mending things with your dad, fulfilling your promise to Farmor.” Her voice cracks and I wince.

“Yeah,” I agree after a moment.

She’s quiet for a long beat. “Too bad we couldn’t fight hard enough to fix us, huh?”

The sadness in her voice squeezes me like a vice. “Rielle, I—”

“Made your choice,” she finishes for me.

“Don’t think. Just answer. What’s your choice?” I blurt out, my curiosity getting the better of me. My fingers nearly tremble from clenching the phone so tightly.

She sighs. “Me. Right now, I choose myself. I have to.”

Disappointment rocks through me even though on some level, her answer pleases me. I want her to put herself first. It’s what I’ve always wanted for her. But then why the hell does her confirming it hurt?

“Good, sweetheart. You deserve everything. The best.”

“That’s what I keep hearing.”

I flinch at the hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Rielle—”

“I’m not okay, Torsten. But I’m getting there.” She disconnects the call.

I hold the phone in my hand and stare at it.

An incoming email from Bill lights up my screen.

Subject: Divorce papers?

I swear and throw my phone down on the bed.

I’m in love with my wife. I love Rielle Carter Hansen. And even though I have to, I don’t want to divorce her. I want her forgiveness and her love. I want to be her choice.

23

Torsten

At the beginning of June, I fly back to Boston to sit on the bench and cheer on the Hawks as we play in the Stanley Cup Finals.

“Missed you, man!” Panda smacks me on the back when I enter the locker room. A general cheer goes up and I grin and thank the guys for welcoming me back with open arms.

I know if it wasn’t me, a guy who’s given most of my life to this team, and I wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t have been given the green light from the Hawks to stay in Norway and settle Farmor’s estate. But now, the team knows I’m not returning, that this is my last season, and that my life is headed in a new direction, across the Atlantic.

To be received so warmly from the men who’ve been my family for more years than my own is touching and fills me with emotion. I sigh; I am getting too damn soft in my old age.

James wraps an arm around my neck and for the first time, I think I understand a fraction of the sheer devastation he felt losing Layla. Because of Claire, I know Rielle is happy and whole, working at a photography studio in New York. Her happiness brings me comfort. To think the world could spin without Rielle would gut me and I realize now just how broken my old friend is.

I place James in a headlock and he laughs, punching me softly in the ribs. “Don’t want to hurt you, old man.”

I snort and drop my hold.

James lifts his chin at me. “How are you holding up? All healed?”

I nod, letting my shoulder rotate. It still clicks and cracks but it’s functioning again. Not that I’ll ever skate onto the ice as an NHL Hawk and give it a test, but it works for my everyday use. “Knee’s doing okay too,” I tell him.

“Good. It’s good to see you.”

“I’ll be cheering louder than anyone in the stands for you guys tonight.” I smack the back of Easton’s head.

He turns to me and grins. “Don’t waste up all your lung capacity in one go. It’s only the first game of the series.”

I flip him the middle finger but agree, “Fair enough.”

Easton watches me curiously for a long beat and drops his voice. “She’s doing okay, man.”

My chest seizes at the mention of Rielle, even though he didn’t say her name. My guy still gives me regular updates about Rielle’s safety but it’s not the same as knowing her thoughts. I think of her all the time and wonder how she’s coping with her new norm, her relationships with her family members. “You sure?”

“Yeah. She’s happy in New York. Claire misses her fiercely, but Ri needed this separation from Boston. From reminders of you.”

I frown at his word choice. Does she hate me that much? Will she ever forgive me for the sham of a marriage I dragged her through?

“Rielle needed a change of scenery. Some time to grow. Some time to heal,” East continues, tapping me on the chest as he stows the last of his belongings in his locker. “Let’s go win the Cup.”

I tip my head and force a grin. “Hell yeah.”

I follow the