“I am pleased to welcome Kailyn Taylor as the new addition to our team.”
Kailyn. My Kailyn.
As she walks into the room, I can’t tell if my eyes are playing tricks on me with the fuzzy haze that takes over my vision. But as I wipe at them and look up again, there she is standing right in front of me, after being gone for ten years.
I can’t believe she’s really here.
Chapter 2
Jake
Ihave to blink several times just to make sure I’m really seeing her and that this isn’t another one of my dreams. She is actually here, standing in front of me.
She’s suddenly back, looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw her.
Her hair is tied up in a bun, but I can tell that it’s longer from the strands that fall so effortlessly around her face. Even from this distance with me sitting at the back wall, I can still see the hazel of her eyes as they sparkle in the dim light of the locker room. They’re still the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever looked at. Her curves are still just as I remember them, making me want to run my hands along her sides and feel her shudder at my touch.
The second she makes eye contact with me and immediately looks away, I’m brought back to reality.
Was she even remotely as miserable as I was?
Did her heart break into a million pieces just like mine?
Did she spend countless nights crying herself to sleep because the anxiety got so bad and she had no one to go to?
Her being here and looking so unbothered by my presence feels like a slap to the face.
It’s been ten years since the last time I saw her in person. Those first couple years after high school, I was invited back to the Taylors’ house for the holidays, and even though Kailyn and I were on rocky terms after our break-up, I felt like I couldn’t say no to her parents' invitation. She was dual enrolled in her junior year, and graduated at the same time her brothers and I did. She ended up getting a full ride scholarship to UCLA and immediately took off that summer, never coming back, even for the holidays.
It’s been ten years since I’ve held her, listened to her angelic voice, seen that spark in her eyes when she talked, and felt peace when she was near me.
I remember everything about her. Every moment we stole, every kiss we shared, and every dream she had. She may not remember me the same, but I never forgot about her—even when I desperately wanted to move on from the heartache of never truly having her.
Those first few years after I left for college were torture without her. I tried to drown out my thoughts of her with other women and booze. I found anyone I could to bury myself in and drank away my feelings until I was just a shell of myself.
But it was never enough to forget.
It wasn’t until Brayden gave me a reality check that I finally snapped out of my slump. I don’t remember the full details of the night Brayden found me because I was too drunk and out of it to remember my own name, but from what I was told, he found me in bed with a teammate’s girlfriend. I never wanted to be that guy, the one who slept around and ruined other people’s relationships just because I was having a hard time dealing with the loss of my own.Brayden took me back to his place that morning and let me sleep it off.
Once I was awake and had some coffee in me, I finally listened to him and got my act together.
It turns out I hadn’t actually slept with her, which was a huge weight off my chest. She had crawled into bed with me to make her boyfriend jealous, which didn’t work out so well for her. The idea that I could’ve ruined someone else’s life because I refused to deal with my own grief and feelings was the wake-up call I needed. It was also affecting my game on the ice, and I knew that if I ever wanted to even have a shot at the NHL, I needed to get my shit together.
I started going to therapy. With the encouragement of my friends and support from my dad, I stopped drinking excessively, and put my focus into hockey. Since then, I haven’t slept with anyone else. My therapist told me it was okay to move on, but it feels like she took away my ability to give myself to someone else.
I never thought that I would see her again, let alone get to truly find out why she broke my heart and left me to pick up the broken pieces of myself.
That is, until today.
I should be angry at her. I should hate her for breaking up with me and pushing me away with no explanation. While a small part of me does feel this, I’m mostly feeling a sense of emptiness in my stomach and a hole where my heart should be. She holds it in her hands, and I don’t know if I want it back.
Despite all of the heartache that transpired, I know that I’ll never regret those moments with her.
Seeing her today, and how beautiful she still is, I know that I couldn’t have forgotten her even if I wanted to. She was always the one that got away.
I’ve heard about her in passing from her brothers, stories of her life over the past ten years, and from my own personal internet stalking of her socials. I’m happy that she’s living her life and accomplishing her dreams like she wanted, because she deserves it for how hard she’s worked.
Connor bumps his knee into mine and whispers softly in my ear. “Hey, are you okay? You kinda turned a little pale there.”