Mile High (Windy City Series Book 1)

I should’ve called out sick from work today. It wouldn’t have been a lie. Heartbreak has settled into my body, and I think it might be the worst sickness of all.

I’ve been dumped before, sure, but this is different. Past relationships were nothing in comparison to the one I had with him. I’m in an unexpected stage of grieving as I try to heal from losing someone who is still alive. Someone who still lives across the street from me. In a way, I think it might hurt worse than losing someone to death. Those losses don’t necessarily choose to leave you.

But Zanders did, and now I have to grieve that he’s no longer in my life because he chose not to be.

I want to hate him. I want to despise every little thing about him because hating someone is so much easier than loving them when they don’t love you in return.

But I do love him, and that’s the worst reminder of all.

My heart has never hurt as much as it has the last few days. I can feel the pain through every nerve in my body. There’s not a thought in my mind that isn’t clouded with him. With us. It’s as if my entire being can’t associate that he’s no longer a part of me. That he doesn’t want me.

My bed has never felt so empty, and my nights have never been so restless as they have been without Zanders and Rosie by my side. My food has never tasted so bland, and the days have never felt so long. Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but it’s moving in slow motion. How am I supposed to heal when minutes tick on like hours?

I think about him constantly, and I miss every little thing about him. I miss the confidence he instilled in me. I miss his smile that could melt me on sight. I even miss the extra twenty minutes I would spend waiting for him to finish getting ready after I was already done.

But most of all, I miss how much I thought he loved me, and I wish I could’ve been enough to make him stay.

He hasn’t reached out, not a single phone call or text. It was a clean break for him, but for me, it turned my entire world into a spiraling mess, and I don’t know how to start cleaning it up again.

“You ready for this?” Indy gently asks as we wait in the back galley as the team boards the plane in Chicago.

My dull and tired eyes zone out, staring towards the entrance. “Not even a little bit.”

Round three, game three is tomorrow night. It’s the first road game since Zanders ended things, and we’re headed to Seattle. Surprisingly, for the first time in my life, I wish I was on my way back to Nashville instead.

There are some memories tied to that city that I’d rather not revisit. It’s the place where things began to shift for Zanders and me. Nashville tends to make me feel like I’m not enough, and right now, that’s the last thing I need to be reminded of. Trust me, it’s been my most constant thought. But more important than any of that, Nashville is where my dad is, and sometimes a girl just needs her dad.

“Wow,” Indy breathes out. “He looks like shit.”

Her words pull me out of my zoned-out daze, causing me to snap out of it and look up. Right there in the exit row, Zanders stands, unmoving, his eyes locked on me.

He looks dim, as if any light in him has burned out. I never thought I’d say this, but he does look terrible.

Zanders holds my stare, and the longer he looks at me as he stands motionless in the aisle, the more the unshed tears begin to burn my eyes. But I refuse to cry here at work, and I refuse to let him see how much he broke me.

His brows are creased, the corners of his lips turned down. His signature three-piece suit is wrinkled, and both the jacket and vest are unbuttoned. He needs a haircut and a shave, but regardless of how disheveled he looks, I can’t tear my eyes off him.

His face has been ingrained in my mind for days. It’s the only thing I see whether my eyes are opened or closed, and now that he’s in front of me, I refuse to look away.

But unfortunately, Tara pops in front of me, ruining my line of vision.

“I know it was you.”

My heart sinks. “What?”

“In the picture. I know that was you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the shit, Stevie. I’ve had a suspicion for a while.”

My throat is thick as I try to swallow down the truth, looking for a lie to cover it up. But my life has been nothing short of a colossal clusterfuck the past few days, and at this point, I don’t care about much anymore.

“What are you going to do? Fire me off suspicion? Go for it.”

Tara’s head jerks back slightly, seeming surprised I’d offer myself up like that. “Once I get confirmation, I will.”

“Sounds great.” My voice is even. “Now, if I can get back to my job, that’d be wonderful.” I point up the aisle. “Looks like everyone’s on board, so we should get going, don’t you think?”

Tara fixes her posture, standing up straighter as she tries to study me. “Do the exit row briefing,” she commands, turning her back to us and heading up the aisle.

“Do you want me to do it?” Indy offers.

“No.” I push my shoulders back. “It’s my job. I can do it.”

Wearing my faux mask of confidence I haven’t had to fake in quite a while, I make the trek to the exit row. I sense eyes on me, but I try to ignore the stares. There’s no way in hell these guys haven’t seen the nasty comments online, and they all know I’m the girl from the picture.

It’s embarrassing, to be honest, but I’m just trying to get through the day.

Keeping my eyes on the ground, I address Maddison and Zanders. “Are you ready for me to brief you on the exit row?”

“Stevie,” Zanders says in a breath of relief, asking for my attention.

“Are you guys ready?” I ask again. This time, my eyes find Maddison, begging for him to answer so I can get this over with and hide in the galley once again.

He feels terrible. It’s evident in the way he’s looking at me, so finally, he nods his head to allow me to begin.

Zanders’ eyes burn into me the entire time as I repeat the exact same emergency briefing I’ve given them all season. I’m almost positive they both have this memorized, but Zanders watches, hanging on every word, begging for me to look at him. I can’t, though. It hurts too much.

This used to be fun. It used to be the perfect excuse to see him right before every takeoff, but this time I hate it.

“Are you willing and able to help in case of emergency?”

I look to Maddison first. “Yes,” he answers, his eyes bouncing to Zanders, clearly uncomfortable sitting in the tension between his best friend and me.

Refusing to glance at Zanders, I keep myself distracted by staring off to nothing, waiting for him to say yes.

He knows the rules. He has to say yes before I can leave, but he stays silent, so I repeat, “Are you willing and able to help in case of emergency?”

“Stevie.” His tone is laced with desperation.

“Are you willing and able to help in case of emergency?”

“Can you look at me?” he softly asks, sitting forward.

I don’t care that his tone is sad. I have to do my job right now, and he’s not letting me. He’s the one who broke up with me, and here he is, forcing me to stand in front of him. It’s a unique form of torture.

“Please look at me,” he begs.

“Can you answer the question?”

In my peripheral, I watch him slump back into his seat, defeated. “Yeah. I’m willing and able to help.”

That’s all I need to hear, so I take off, ready to get back to my space of safety. But today, there’s not a single place on this plane that feels like a refuge. It’s smaller and more cramped than it’s ever been.

I only make it two steps before Zanders grabs my forearm, willing me to stop. Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared for the physical contact, and his touch burns my skin, reminding my body how much it misses his.

Looking down at his hand, the first thing I notice is my old, tattered ring on his pinky. Why is he still wearing it? I want him to take it off because there’s too much meaning behind it being on his hand, but at the same time, I hope he never does.

Another mistake I make is drifting my gaze north. His hazel eyes are glossed over yet hopeful for my attention. His brows are furrowed, begging for me to stay and talk to him. His Adam’s apple bobs in a thick swallow before he opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him before he can.

“Do you need something? A drink? A pillow? Something to eat? You know, since I’m just your flight attendant now.”

Maddison’s head falls back to his headrest as if my words affected him.

Zanders’ face shows the physical hurt my words cause, but most of me doesn’t care. He hurt me. It’s only fair for him to feel a tiny morsel of what I’m experiencing.

That’s a lie. I love him too much to wish him pain, but in self-preservation, I don’t know how to make myself feel okay at this moment. Or any moment, really.

“Sparkling water, I’m assuming?”

Exhaling a sharp breath, he rapidly blinks and shakes his head until finally, he releases my arm and allows me to leave.

Keeping my stare focused on the back galley, I will my feet to carry me there as quickly as possible, attempting to hold my poker face until I can hide.

“You’re a badass,” Indy compliments as soon as I step into our workspace. “But if you want to take a second to cry, I’ll cover you.”

“Okay,” my voice breaks. “Maybe for just a second.”

I spent the rest of the flight to Seattle hiding in the back. Rio popped his head in at one point, making some joke about Zanders and me hooking up behind everyone’s backs all year, but when I didn’t even crack a smile, he realized his mistake.

It seems, besides Maddison, no one on the team knows that we broke up. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but I’m trying not to read into it. At the end of the day, we’re over, so grasping at straws to give myself a little hope is only going to draw out the heartbreak I’m convinced is going to last a lifetime.

Being in my work uniform reminds me of the compliments Zanders would shower me with while wearing it, so as soon as I’m in my hotel room, I peel it off, changing into my comfiest sweats. Which, of course, reminds me of him as well. I didn’t even pack the ones he gifted me, but it doesn’t matter.

The view from my hotel room overlooks Seattle’s Great Wheel, right there by the water, but as beautiful as the whole thing is, it reminds me of the Navy Pier in Chicago. And that reminds me of Zanders’ apartment, which in turn reminds me of Zanders.

I hate that my brain associates him with every bit of my life in Chicago. I wish I didn’t think about him every second of every day. But that city is filled with him, and I don’t know how to clear him out. He’s inundated every part of my life.

In my heart, Chicago represents Zanders, but so does almost every city in North America that we’ve visited together.

Turning off all the lights in my room, I bury myself under the covers of my bed, needing the darkness to bring me some sleep. It’s only three in the afternoon, but sleeping allows my mind to shut off so I’ve been sleeping the days away, hoping it’ll help pass the time more quickly.

My phone rings on the nightstand, illuminating my pitch-black room, and I could not be more thankful to see my dad’s name across the screen. I’m pretty sure an audible breath of relief leaves me as soon as I answer the phone.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Vee! How’s my girl doing?”

“I’ve been better.”

A small moment of silence lingers between us. My dad found out all about my relationship with Zanders around the time we broke up. Though, a part of me thinks he’s known since he visited at Christmas.

“Ryan called. He was worried about you flying out for playoffs. He wanted me to check on you.”

“That’s nice of you both, but I’ll be okay.”

It might not be true, but I’m manifesting.

“Well, I promised your brother I would check in. So, what room are you in?”

“What?”

“What room are you in? I’m outside your hotel.”

Eyes widening, I pull my phone away from my ear to look at it, though I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s on FaceTime and can prove he’s in Seattle. I’m just in a state of shock.

“Really?” My voice cracks, feeling just a speck of hope for the first time in a while.

“Yeah! Let me up!”

As soon as my dad knocks on my door, I rush him with a crushing hug, needing the joy he always brings into my life.

“I missed you too, Vee.” His big bear hug holds me close before he shows off the six-pack of IPAs in his hand. “And I brought beer.”

“Thank God. I knew I liked you for a reason.”

My dad pops the top on two before handing me one and taking a seat on the couch opposite me.

“So, what’s going on?”

I breathe out a condescending laugh. “Where should I start?”

“Where do you want to start?”

I take a long swig, trying to choke back any emotion that attempts to surface. “Zanders broke up with me.”

“So, do we hate him now or what?”

That pulls a laugh from me. “I’m still deciding.”

“Did he give you a reason, or was this out of the blue?”

“I don’t know. He gave me a reason, but I don’t know that I believe him.”

My dad stays silent, allowing me to continue.

“He said he’s never going to be able to change and that I knew all along who he was, but I don’t think that’s true. I think he’s scared to show his true colors because the reputation he’s earned in the NHL is quite the opposite of what a good man he is. He’s due for a contract renewal, and he doubts himself. You know how important contract years are with Ryan, but this is different. Ryan doesn’t have to lie about who he is to make money, but Zanders feels like he has to.”

“And having a girlfriend doesn’t fit that image,” my dad states, understanding the whole situation with ease. “Does he want to change?”

My shoulders pop in a shrug. “I thought so. I was positive he would be honest about who he is once he got re-signed, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. It seems like he’s convinced himself this is the only way to keep fans invested in his career.”

“How does that make you feel?” My dad takes a long swig of his beer.

“It makes me feel like shit.” My head drops back, eyes screwing shut, needing to hold in the tears that want to fall. “In the time Zanders and I were together, he made me feel like I was his first choice. I’ve never been anyone’s first choice, and now it feels like it was all a lie. And it’s not that I want him to choose me over his career, but there could’ve been another option, and he didn’t even try to find another way.”

My dad hesitates, eyes darting around the room before they fall back on me. “I saw the headlines. Do you think maybe he was trying to protect you? Because that makes a lot of sense to me. I don’t know the guy, but from what you’ve told me of him, he’s known to be protective of the people he cares about.”

“Maybe, but I don’t need him to protect me. I’m sick of it, actually. Ryan does it too much, and maybe Zanders is doing it too, but I can stand up for myself. Those comments about me online were disgusting, and people are trash, but they didn’t upset me nearly as much as the way people were talking about him. I wasn’t even thinking about myself in that situation.”

My dad cocks his head, pride evident on his face.

“What?” I cautiously ask.

“You love him.”

“Geez, Dad.” I bury my face in my hands, needing to hide my burning tear-filled eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

He squeezes my arm. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen you like this. I know your heart hurts, and I’m not trying to disregard that. I’m just not used to seeing you so sure of yourself. I like it.”

It’s something Zanders instilled in me, to be sure of myself, to stand up for myself, but is all that gone now that he is too?

“Mom doesn’t like it.”

My dad’s lips press together as he attempts to hold back. “I didn’t want to bring her up in case you didn’t want to talk about her.”

“She’s been calling me nonstop.”

“I know.”

Silence lingers between us as we share awkward glances. It’s been nice not being subjected to the backhanded comments and the disapproving looks, but at the same time, I don’t know that I want my mom out of my life forever. I want us to have a better relationship. I want us to have the relationship we had when I was younger, and she thought I was going to follow in her footsteps. It wasn’t until I became an adult that my choices began disappointing her and our relationship suffered, but I do wonder if one day she could find the ability to be supportive again.

“Is she okay?” I finally ask.

My dad takes another long swig of his beer. “She’s coming to some realizations, and they’re hitting her pretty hard. She had a tough time seeing those headlines and knowing they were about you. But I’m not going to sit here and say she doesn’t deserve to feel the way she’s feeling.”

“They only said exactly what she’s been saying for years.”

“That’s my point. I think seeing them written down in front of her face, and coming from other people, woke her up to what she’s been doing to you.”

My dad’s words don’t have much emotion behind them, and he’s a somewhat sensitive guy who cares about his family more than anything, but the way he’s talking about my mom feels detached. It feels different.

My brows furrow. “Are you guys okay?”

His eyes leave mine. “I don’t know, Vee. This isn’t something you should discuss with your kids.”

“Well, if it’s about me, I think you should tell me. I’m an adult.”

“Things have been a bit strained, but I don’t want you worrying yourself about it.”

I sit up straighter. “Well, now I am. I don’t want you guys to have problems because of me.”

His chest moves in a sigh, his brown eyes glossing over slightly. “She’s a good person, Stevie. She’s just been lost these last few years, and she hasn’t been a good mom to you. I know that, and deep down, she knows that too. It’s hard watching her hurt you when she wasn’t always like this, you know. She was a really good mom to you when you were younger.” My sweet dad’s voice breaks before covering his mouth with his palm.

“I know, Dad.” I squeeze his arm. “I remember. I just wanted her to be proud of me the way she used to be, but I’ve given up at this point.”

He nods in understanding. “You never met your grandmother, but she was a real piece of work.” He releases a breathy laugh that has no humor in it. “She treated your mom exactly how your mom has been treating you. The only difference is you got out. You formed your own path and didn’t do every little thing she expected you to do. But your mom, she had some big dreams she put on hold to try to please her own. We got married much younger than we planned because her mother was pressuring us. She went to a college her mother chose for her.” My dad nudges me as if he’s silently asking, Sound familiar? “Now, I’m not going to put words in her mouth, but I think there’s some jealousy going on, and instead of being proud of you, the way a loving mom should be, she’s envious. But you know, I think she’s starting to see it, and the realization is hitting her that she treats you the exact way her own mother did. Who, by the way, she resents still to this day.”

I stay silent, absorbing this new information. I’ve never known much about my mom’s past or how she was raised. Her perfect little mask is hard to see behind.

“I’m not trying to make excuses for her,” my dad continues. “But generational trauma isn’t easy to break, and for the first time in a long time, I have a bit of hope that she might be able to learn and grow from this.”

I can physically see the emotional toll it’s taking on him, trying to be an empathetic husband while also standing up for his daughter. No part of cutting my mom out of my life was supposed to affect him or their relationship, but of course, it did.

Holding my beer out for him to cheers, I add, “Well, maybe something good can come out of those stupid headlines after all.”

He connects his empty bottle with mine. “Maybe.”

“I think I need another beer after that.” Standing from the couch, I grab two more from the counter.

“Speaking my language.” He takes a swig of his fresh one. “So, tell me everything else. How’s work? How’s the shelter?”

“The shelter is great. I love being there. The owner is the best, and the dogs are so sweet. As far as work goes, I don’t know how much longer I’ll have a job, so there’s that.”

“Do they know it was you in the picture?”

“Officially, no, but it’s only a matter of time until my name is released, and I’ll be out of a job.”

“When Ryan called, he mentioned there’s a couple of airlines hiring, and one happens to be out here in Seattle.”

“Yeah, but that’s off the table. I can’t leave him in Chicago. Not after he worked so hard to get me out there in the first place.”

“He wanted me to encourage you to look into it.”

That causes me to pause. “Wait. Really?”

“Yeah. If you want to.”

“Why didn’t he say something to me?”

A knowing laugh heaves in my dad’s chest. “Because it’s Ryan. You think that guy could look you in the face and tell you to move across the country without him choking back tears? That kid is a brick wall of emotion unless it comes to you.”

When that job posting popped up last week, I didn’t think twice about it. Moving away from Chicago was off the table. Zanders and I were still together at that point, and I never thought Ryan would suggest I leave the city. But nothing has helped me feel better. Nothing has helped soothe the broken heart that’s been wearing me down. Maybe a two-thousand-mile distance will jumpstart the healing process, and at this point, I’m desperate enough to try anything.

I just want to feel better. I don’t want to walk out of my apartment and see Zanders’. I don’t want to think about him every time I’m at SDOC when I notice a small repair that his donation paid for. I don’t want to relive finding him on his steps on Christmas any time I pass his building. I don’t want to think about how much he loves his niece whenever I inevitably run into them while Ella is on his shoulders. I don’t want to remember that for the first time in my life, I felt a genuine connection to friends whenever I see the Maddisons in the lobby of my apartment. I just want some reprieve from everything I lost.

My whole life, I’ve been waiting for someone else to choose me, and I constantly let myself down, holding out for others’ approval. But why am I waiting around for someone else to make me a priority when I can do it myself?

I can choose myself.

“I want to,” I say with confidence. “I want to go apply tomorrow.”