I might’ve taken the easy way out by asking Miles to open Rêverie for us, but that didn’t mean I could afford to make mistakes. Necessary or not, I was on the safe side by mentioning it.
“He might not put strawberries on our plates, but I still had to say something… just in case he forgot,” I replied.
“The day my dad forgets I have an allergy that will mostlikely kill me, I’ll have to assume he suffers from memory loss.”
“You never know when the day might come.” I shrugged while Brooke chuckled.
Since we have now ordered our breakfast, I set the menu aside. The menu was a handwritten piece of paper withverylimited options to choose from. Rêverie didn’t usually serve breakfast. In fact, they didn’t open this early, so it was a miracle Miles even prepared a menu for this morning.
As we waited for our food to be served, Brooke and I couldn’t stop talking. She told me all about what she did the past weeks when we were apart in much greater detail than on our phone calls. And in return, I told her about my progress, even when I was sure Luan and Grey kept her updated at all times.
There were times when I talked to her about my progress on the phone, but I was usually more interested in hearing Brooke talk, hearing her voice, and allowing her to distract me for an hour a day. But I suppose hearing my side of how I was doing rather than Luan or Grey’s view of it was still a huge difference.
She held my hand as I spoke and smiled at me with pride as if fighting my way back into some version of my old life was a huge accomplishment. Perhaps it was.
By the time all of our breakfast was served by the one single waiter Miles had asked to work early, Brooke had begun talking about what I’d missed while I was… physically present but far gone in my head.
It was a lot to process, but I suppose it was better for me to find out about my possible expulsion from St. Trewery’s hockey team now rather than later. Apparently, Colin even took his time to talk to my coach, which old me would’veprobably been pissed at, but at this point, I was just glad Colin could buy me some more time.
“Ming asked about you,” Brooke told me as she used her fork to play with her scrambled eggs instead of eating them. “Obviously, he’s heard about the news, which to be fair, wasn’t that unlikely, seeing as it was plastered all over the Rangers’ social media. I didn’t want to lie when Ming asked how you’re doing, but I also didn’t want to tell him how unwell you’ve been, so I told him that you just need a bit of time to yourself for now.”
Brooke went out with Ming and Rina a lot while I was rotting away on our sofa, which I sort of remembered. At least it didn’t sound too unfamiliar hearing about it.
I nodded to myself, unsure of what else to do or even say. I expected Ming to be worried. Well, perhaps not worried but definitely slightly concerned about my well being seeing as I skipped out ona bunchof practices and classes, not just one or two, or even a whole week. It had been over a month.
But either way, I never meant for Brooke and my date to turn into her updating me on everything I’ve missed. I genuinely wanted to spend time with her without thinking about the past weeks. She lived through it, I existed. There was no need to talk about it now.
“Perhaps you should give him a call whenever you feel like you’re ready to talk to anyone but our families.” Brooke finally set her fork aside just to take a sip of her water. “By the way, he refuses to let anyone sit in your spot at the cafeteria.” She chuckled softly. “I tried to sit there last Tuesday, and I swear, he almost yelled at me. Well, notyelledbut he didn’t sound like the usual, preppy Ming like I know him. Guess he really misses his best friend. I get it though, you’re his ice hockey wife.”
My eyebrows shot up, a hint of laughter bubbling insideof me but I didn’t dare let it out yet. If I laughed, Brooke would stop talking, and I really enjoyed listening to her speak. “His ice hockey wife?”
“You know what? That would be an understatement. You’re his wife. Period.”
I nodded slowly, carefully, like I didn’t quite want to grasp what she was implying. “So, he’s my… husband?”
“Nope.” Brooke shoved a forkful of her scrambled eggs into her mouth. “You’re his wife.”
“But I—if he’s my wife… and I’m his wife? I don’t understand. Why isn’t he my husband?”
She sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “Because WAGs are usually women.”
“Luan’s not,” I argued.
“Because there’s no such thing as WAG in male version, which, frankly, is stupid because there are quite the number of gays in professional sports these days. But anyway, let’s not get political.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders to keep it from falling into her food. “Luan’s also a wife. If Luan—and all the other guys—belongs to all the wives and girlfriends, so do Ming and you. Easy as that.”
“Who says Luan belongs to them?”
“All the Rangers’ partners who have adopted him as part of their group… and Grey.”
We held eye contact for no longer than a second before we both burst into laughter.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t enjoy the moment because I was rudely interrupted by my phone ringing.
Just to check it wasn’t important, I glanced at my phone only to find my agent’s name spread across the screen. My eyebrows dipped for merely a second, but I suppose it was long enough for Brooke to notice.
“Something wrong?” she asked, her voice more high-pitched this time which told me she was worried.
I looked up, shaking my head. “It’s just Anthony. He’ll probably tell me he doesn’t want to work with me anymore or something.” Frankly, I wasn’t even allowed to be mad about it.