The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(79)

“I love you.”

He rubbed his chest with his fist, like my words had punctured something. “I have to go.”

I waited until I heard the front door close before I burst into tears again.





*



Two unbearable weeks passed while I waited for Mica to come home. He didn’t call. He didn’t text. The only time I got a glimpse of him was on TV when he was playing hockey.

Somehow this man had become my everything. And now, with surgical precision, he was separating us. The pain was overwhelming. I was hormonal, in denial and unable to come to terms with the fact that I was pregnant. None of this felt real. I didn’t have the energy to think about how much this baby would alter my life. All I cared about was Mica.

I didn’t understand what was happening with him, but there was more to this than him not wanting to be a father. There were some strong emotions driving him away. Emotions I didn’t understand.

Finally, desperate for answers, I called Yelena.

“What’s wrong?” She instantly heard the pain in my voice.

“Mica left me.”

She made a sound in her throat. “Talk to Yelena. Tell me what is going on.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Ahhh,” she exhaled. “I understand.”

I needed her to help me understand. “He won’t talk to me. He left and he won’t communicate with me.”

“I was hoping he’d tell you this himself.”

I could hear the begging tone in my voice. “Tell me what?”

“It starts with my story. If you can be patient and listen.”

I was all ears. “Yelena. Tell me everything.”

“When I met Mica’s father, I was a young girl with stars in my eyes, and his wealth dazzled me. I wanted the diamonds and the parties and the exciting lifestyle. And for the first few years, he gave that to me. It was a magical time.”

I listened intently.

“After Mica was born, my husband expected me to slow down. He moved us from Moscow to a local village because he thought it would be a good place to raise a child. We had so many fights. I wanted to party. I didn’t want to stay home with a fussy baby while all my friends were living a lifestyle he now forbade me from joining. Finally, my husband hired Nadia as Mica’s nanny. We hired her to help me, but I used her as an escape so I could jet off with my friends to places like Morocco and Spain.”

She sighed. “Mica grew bigger, and I grew more distant. Soon I became the mother that would swoop into town to take him to the zoo or go to the ocean, but Nadia was there with him for every tear and every step. I knew my marriage was over, but for the sake of Mica, his father and I tried to keep up pretenses. But when I found out that Nadia was pregnant with my husband’s child, it was time to end it. I kicked up a fuss, mainly because of my pride, but I agreed to a divorce. I knew how to throw a party, but she knew how to make a home. And who can compete with that?”

“What happened?” I breathed.

“There was an accident. My husband was out of town, and Mica was out skating. Nadia, still pregnant, slipped and fell on the ice.”

I covered my mouth, trying not to react out loud.

“At first it seemed okay, but then it wasn’t. Mica was alone with her, in the middle of a storm, in the middle of the night, when she started to experience terrible complications. He was with her when both she and the baby died.”

“Oh my God.”

“The cooks found him in the morning. They said there was so much blood it looked like someone had been murdered. And he was sitting on the bed next to her body, holding that dead baby. For two weeks after that, my son didn’t speak. Not one word.”

“Yelena.” Tears streaked down my face as I imagined what Mica had endured.

She continued her story. “Worse, in his grief, my husband blamed Mica. Questioning him again and again about the fall on the ice, asking him why he didn’t go for help immediately. Mica was ten. He was a child. And Nadia was the adult making the decisions that night. My husband’s foolish blame caused irreparable damage to their relationship. Mica refused to speak about the incident and would not let anyone mention her name. He threw himself into hockey, and my husband retreated into his work.”

Her voice sounded so resigned. “They both loved Nadia, and they both mourned her. Their life, their home, their happiness had died with her. They were so sad. No one could touch that sadness. I did the only thing I could do. I moved back home and took my place as wife and mother. But we were all broken. My husband lashed out at me, and I let him. Penance for my sins. And I lashed back, because someone had to pay for all this pain and hurt we now lived in. And Mica? He absorbed all of it into his heart. The damage we did to him I feared was irreversible.”

My voice trembled as I blurted out my own trauma and fear. “He left me. He doesn’t want me or this baby.”

“He’s scared, Charlie. More scared than he’s ever been. Those memories have become his worst nightmare. After that night, he told me he would never get married and he would never become a father. Now he is married and you are pregnant. I understand his fear.”

I did too. “I love him.”

“My son loves you more than life itself.”

“So what do I do?”

“You go and talk to him and you make him come home. And together you conquer this fear of his.”