~James would joke "if you guys were to have a kid, it would be like Russian roulette what eye colour it would get. With your green and blue and your brown and purple eye".~
Now I know what you're thinking and no, just because my family is rich, that I have the perfect life, because I don't. I have been told all my life to sit and look pretty, not to have an education because guys feel threatened when in the presence of a girl with knowledge or that reads. My daddy pays for everything I own until they find me a suitable man to marry and have my own family. And yes we are in the 21st century, I know hard to believe really. All I want is to be a writer, journalist I don't care as long as it involves books or writing, that's why I left, as soon as the trust fund hit my account I booked my plane ticket to Missouri and have never looked back, that was three years ago now. I haven't changed at all looks wise only personality, I'm a lot less of a push over now, I got a job at a newsroom in Missouri where I write lengthy game descriptions for the St.Louis Blues ice hockey senior team. This season however I've been asked to take a more hands on approach and write up club statements, interviews and media for the team, of course I accepted it did mean I will be travelling with the team.
What could go wrong?
~Ice hockey love story~
~St.Louis Blues~
Never in a million years did I think I would cross paths with him again.
Michael Woods.
The boy who broke my heart. The boy who picked hockey over me. The boy who left me behind.
After giving three years of my life to him, it was all over after his college graduation. He went his way and I went mine. But I never imagined landing a job at his agency when I moved to Boston four years later, let alone as his assistant.
A job that's meant for me to service him, do as he asks, and give him all smiles.
So, I play the part. I play the nice, kind, sweet assistant in public and ignore him like my life depends on it in private.
The thought of getting close to him again terrifies me because I know. I know that once I let him again, I'll never be able to let him out. And if I do, it'll be at the cost of my heart, and this time he'll leave it broken beyond repair.
I used to think he was forever mine.
But hockey changed everything.
What would he do now if he had to make that choice?
Me? Or hockey? Or both?
.
.
.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of death by accident and depression