Breakaway

Chapter 21 - Breakaway

DANA

Dad was waiting for me at baggage claim. He was a slightly more wrinkled, salt-and-pepper version of Brenden, towering over most of the people milling around and waiting for their bags or their loved ones.

I ran straight into his arms as soon as I saw him.

He nearly jumped, I startled him so much, but then he hugged me back like he had when I was a little girl, practically lifting me off my feet in his exuberance.

"I missed you," I said when I could catch my breath.

"I missed you, too," he said, but I knew there was so much more behind that simple statement than just missing me over the last six weeks.

We went to the baggage carousel to wait for my suitcase. Dad handed me a mug of coffee, which I immediately started guzzling. The sun wasn't up yet after my red-eye. I hadn't been able to sleep on the plane. Every time I'd shut my eyes, I'd thought about Eric—how he would hold me when we flew together, how it felt to sleep in his arms, how safe I felt when he held my hand. It made me want to cry.

I couldn't keep crying, though. I'd made my choice. I'd done this with a full understanding of what might happen, even if I didn't understand how a broken heart would feel. Now I had to deal with the consequences.

"Your brother already called this morning," Dad said. "Wanted to know if you're here. He was worried when you weren't home last night."

I hadn't told any of the guys I was leaving. They'd become a sort of family to me since I'd been traveling with the team.

Brenden would come back to Providence for the summer, though. He had to stick around Portland for a few days, go through exit interviews with the coaches and Jim Sutter, that type of thing. But then he'd come back. He always did.

Eric would probably be back at some point, too.

His first couple of years in the league, he'd spent most of his off-season in Providence. But how long he stayed had gotten shorter each year. He'd bought his house in Portland and stayed there a little longer. He had commitments with charities in the area that he'd stuck around to help out.

He'd started training with a big-shot personal trainer in Minnesota. That usually took at least a month or two out of his summer—a month or two less that he'd potentially be around Providence.

I half hoped he wouldn't come home at all this year. It would be easier for me to get over him if I didn't have to see him so soon. But at least I could console myself with the knowledge that he shouldn't be around much if he even came at all. After everything I'd put him through, he might just stay away the whole summer—especially since all of that had soured his friendship with Brenden.

I eyed my dad over my mug. He didn't look upset with me. Just concerned.

"I didn't tell him I was coming home. I didn't want to distract any of them from finishing the season out strong."

That lie sounded hollow even to my own ears, but Dad just nodded. "Your mom's got your room all ready for you."

My subletter wasn't supposed to be out of my apartment for two more weeks, so I was going back home, at least for a little while. "Thanks, Dad."

He saw my suitcase come onto the conveyer before I did and grabbed it. We walked out to his car and drove into the rising sun.

"Jim Sutter told me you got back on the ice," he said, trying too hard to sound casual.

"I did. It felt good." I didn't miss the little smile on his face. "He said something to me I've been wondering about. He said he owed you. Made it sound like a really big deal."