The Last Letter(117)

“Yep.” He sighed. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s September,” I said with a laugh. “That means it’s been eighteen months since I went on terminal leave.” Two years since I got Ella’s first letter. “You can’t keep me on the bench forever, coach.”

“I have three more years.”

“Nah. It’s time.” I grabbed my car keys from the hook in my locker and glanced at the pictures that covered the interior door. Hiking with Ella and the kids last month. Camping this summer. Colt after he won his league semifinals. Maisie finally getting to swim in the lake a few months after she’d completed immunotherapy. Ella sitting with Havoc’s head in her lap. Ella and I were still in the friend zone, but they were my family, and this was my home. Getting the full-time slot that opened up a couple of months ago meant my new insurance fully covered Maisie, so all the pieces were finally in place. “I miss you guys. Not going to lie. You were my first family. But I’m never leaving Telluride. We both know it. Hell, Ella broke up with me seven months ago, and I’m still here. I found a home. And besides, Havoc is getting fat.”

She whined and tilted her head at me.

“It’s okay, I like you with a little curve,” I reassured her with a pat, well aware she had no idea what I’d said in the first place. “And it’s only five pounds.”

“Okay. If you’re sure, I’ll accept it. But if anything ever changes, you call me. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir. But nothing’s going to change.”

He sighed. “You’re a good man in a storm, Gentry.”

“Funny, that’s not what you said when I was there.”

“Can’t have you getting a big head on me. Later.”

“Later.” There was a click, and the line was dead.

I slipped my phone into my pocket, and then shut our lockers.

Hers read, “HAVOC.”

Mine read, “CHAOS.”

Because under it all, I was still me, and once I’d quit fighting it, I realized I was okay with that.

“Hey, Tess said to haul you home if you need dinner,” Mark offered as I hit the parking lot.

“I would, but Ella called earlier and said the kids want to have dinner, so I’m headed to her place. Tell Tess thanks.”

“Sure thing. How’s that going, anyway?” he asked, just like every other week. He’d become our not-so-silent cheerleader.

“Slowly, but going.”

“Fight the good fight.” He waved as we both got into our vehicles.

Havoc settled into her seat, and I brought the truck to life. We drove home with the windows down, Havoc sticking her head out the window. It was an Indian summer, with temps still in the upper seventies, which meant the hikers were here later than usual for the season but, since Labor Day had passed two weeks ago, it was a little quieter in the lower portion of Telluride.

I hit a button on the dash, and Ella’s voice filled my truck.

“Hey, you on your way?”

“Yep. Want me to grab the pizza?”

“That would be amazing.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. Drive safe.” She hung up, and I smiled. Not together, but we were good. Sure, the sexual tension was still there, and I loved her—that was never going to change—but I was proving myself to Ella every day, and I couldn’t help but hope that one day it would be enough to repair what I’d broken. But hey, I’d lied to her for eleven months, and I was only seven months into my penance.

Truth was, I’d wait forever.

In the meantime, it was like being married without the whole marriage part.

There were days I thought our second chance was within reach, and days she felt a million miles away. But neither of us dated anyone else, and I held on to that tiny sliver of hope that the times I caught her looking at me meant we were getting somewhere.

We had as much time as she needed.

I parked in front of the pizza shop and brought Havoc in with me while they pulled our order. The funny thing about putting down roots was that people knew me. Knew Havoc.

“Here you go, Mr. Gentry,” the Tanners kid said, handing me three boxes. “Hey, Havoc.”

“Good game on Friday,” I told him as I paid.

“Thanks! You coming next week?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said as I backed out of the doors with the pizza.

I waved at a couple of people I recognized and put the pizzas in the space between Maisie’s and Colt’s booster seats as Havoc jumped into the passenger seat. The twins would turn eight soon, which meant I’d get a heck of a lot more space back in my truck. I eyed the smashed bag of Oreos in Colt’s cup holder and rolled my eyes.

That boy was going to be the death of me.

A few songs on the radio later, I pulled into Ella’s driveway and popped the doors. Havoc flew, racing to greet the kids.

“Beckett!” Maisie called out, running down the steps.

Her blond hair had grown back with a little curl to it and was now in a bob that lined up with the bottoms of her ears. Six glorious inches of non-chemo-treated hair. We were still holding our breath, watching her blood work and CT scans, but she’d come through immunotherapy with flying colors, and now it was a waiting game while her body fought on its own.