Zack(30)

She thinks the reason I’m distant with her is because I’m mad at her for taking her seat belt off? I mean, sure…I was, in that very moment, but that was aggravated by fear. I know she wasn’t intentionally trying to do something stupid. I seriously had not given that any particular thought since then.

“I’m not mad at you,” I tell her sincerely as I glance back down to the table to pick my next shot. I’m fucking insanely attracted to you, I think, and it’s driving me crazy, and crazy makes me cranky, but definitely not mad.

Kate lets out a huge breath of relief and I hear her murmur, “Good. That’s good,” as I bend over to take my next shot. I sink it cleanly and start walking around the table to reach the cue ball on the other side.

Just as I bend over to eyeball my next shot, Kate says quietly, “I’m really sorry about what happened to your wife.”

Pain rumbles through me over the sincerity in her words and I close my eyes briefly to get it under control. “She wasn’t my wife,” I correct her.

“Oh,” she says softly. “I didn’t know…I just assumed.”

And I’m sure she didn’t know that. I didn’t publicize my relationship with Gina. I kept her and Ben out of the press as much as possible, not wanting it to invade my privacy. We were together for a long time…since attending high school in Nova Scotia. She was my first love. Not my only, but my first, and my longest and most definitely my deepest. Minus a two-year separation we went through when I first got drafted into the NHL, we’d been together ever since. Seven years we lived together and shared our lives together.

But we never got married, did we?

I know she wanted it, not that she would ever come right out and ask. We had discussed it once after Ben was born, and I was clear that I wasn’t ready for it. She never brought it up again. Didn’t mean I didn’t see wedding magazines lying around the house. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t gush on and on when a friend of hers was getting married. I know she craved that last bit of commitment from me, and yet…I just couldn’t give it to her.

This also causes me pain now that she’s dead. Because of my uncertainty, she died without having something that she probably very much deserved.

Guilt causes waves of despair to wash over me in such magnitude that no amount of tequila could ever dry it up. I need to redirect…change the subject…push this all back down and bury it again.

Standing up from the table, I ignore my shot and walk toward Kate. Her eyes are sympathetic and her head is cocked to the side in slight curiosity, since I didn’t take my turn. She hesitantly reaches a hand out, assuming I’m coming over to her to give her the cue, but I keep it firmly grasped in my hand.

I stride right to her until we are toe to toe and she has to lean back so she can look at me. I’m impressed she’s not intimidated.

“Let me ask you something,” I say softly as I stare down at her, the alcohol making me bold and probably a bit stupid. Her eyes are open and patient. Reaching a hand up, I tug on the tight knot her hair is wrapped in at the back of her head. “Why do you keep all this hair hidden?”

Her eyes go round in surprise and her cheeks turn pink. Taking a step back, she dislodges my hand and it falls away. Her own hand comes up and nervously pats at the back of her head, making sure no stray hairs came loose. “It’s just easier,” she says nervously.

“No,” I say immediately, shaking my head in denial of her answer. “That’s not it. Easy would be just putting it up in a ponytail with a rubber band. You take time to wrap it tight, and I bet there are a million pins in there holding it in place. You’re purposely hiding it, and I want to know why.”

Kate shrugs. “It’s just something I’ve always done.”

“Why?” I press her.

“I don’t know,” she says, her voice getting high with frustration.

“You do,” I correct her, stepping in closer. “Why do you hide it?”

She swallows hard and starts to chew on her bottom lip.

“Tell me why, Kate,” I order her softly. “It’s beautiful. I want to know why you hide it.”

From me, I add on in my head.

Kate lets out a soft gasp of surprise, and fuck…I’m surprised myself I just admitted that to her, but I’m in too deep now. I want the answer.

Stepping in until there’s only inches of space separating us, I reach up and grasp her jaw lightly. Leaning in, I whisper, “Why?”

She closes her eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. When she opens them back up, I see the open book of Kate that I’ve come to appreciate. The honest and blunt Kate.