Unsteady
: Chapter 43

Liam is already grinning, his face pressed against the screen door when I pull up. Just like he has been every time I’ve showed up unannounced.

Her car died on her way home the night before, and Rora called Freddy to get a hold of me at the house to go get her—because she wouldn’t ask for my help.

I’d found her on the side of the street walking home, taking a solid minute to stew in my anger and breathe so that I didn’t make her own anger that covered her fear worse.

I’d calmly stopped my car on the side and walked by her side for a little, just keeping watch over her, until she finally turned towards me. I would’ve walked beside her for miles, but I was glad she gave up the defense sooner rather than later.

She didn’t speak, only sunk her head like a reprimanded child and slunk behind me back to my car. I hated how she was shivering, getting a blanket from the truck of my car—a blanket I’d planned to call our drive-in blanket; big enough for the two of us and her brothers—to wrap her in.

We didn’t speak, but I turned on one of her playlists and let the soothing sounds of Damien Rice echo in the space between us. The space I hated that existed.

But she didn’t push my hand off her thigh as I settled it there like a brand. She sat in the quiet of the cabin of my car until the entire album finished, letting me trace patterns on her hand even as she stared at her darkened childhood home like it was the thing that tortured her each and every day. Like she wanted to burn it down.

Eventually, she got out and I walked her to the door, forcing her inside so I could make sure the heat was on inside, before offering to get the boys from Miss B’s next door myself. Partially so she could rest and stay warm. Mostly, so I could hear from Liam and Oliver exactly how things were going.

So, even if we haven’t spoken about it, she’s right behind her brother now—a gray Waterfell Wolves toque pulled down on her head, thick gray scarf looped so it covers her nearly to her eyes. She’s looking at me, a gentle expression in her eyes. Like she knew I would show. Like she trusts me.

That’s enough.

Oliver looks angrier than I’ve seen him, shuffling past his sister and me so that I don’t really know who he’s mad at most, his hockey bag swinging wildly off his side.

Liam is in another Star Wars costume, but with a thick coat overtop that makes him look like a big stuffed blue marshmallow. Sadie yanks his scrambling body back as he howls at me, shoving a little wool cap on his curls before releasing him into the snow, slamming into my legs in a hug.

“Missed you,” he mumbles.

“Miss you too, bud.” I ruffle his hat and curls before bending down to fix it. I stand back up, straightening my dark navy dress coat, and smiling at her.

She is layered in black and still—she is everything bright in my life. I love her, I’d do anything for her.

And right now that means giving support, but the space to work out her own feelings.

I wanted to connect her with my therapist, but Dr. Bard said that was a decision that Sadie needed to make on her own.

I hope she does. I just want her to feel good again.

Happy.

“Hey, Gray,” I say, my hand scratching at the back of my neck to distract myself from reaching for her.

“Hotshot.” She smiles and my knees wobble. A good mood today, then. She walks right up to me and fiddles with my collar. “You look good.”

My cheeks heat, a smile growing under her attention and the familiarity of the teasing nickname. “Yeah… I, uh—we’ve got a home game today. We usually dress nice.”

Her eyebrows dip and she lets go of me, ducking her head a bit as she says, “Oh. I, um—I can’t go. I have a group project due for my final and they agreed to meet near the rink where Oliver’s practice is. And Liam—”

The kid pokes his head out of the car, where Oliver’s already strapped him into his car seat, that I definitely hadn’t purchased before the gala when I first realized being with Sadie meant being responsible enough to handle her brothers.

“I wanna watch Rhys!”

Sadie’s exhausted. It’s easy to see in her eyes and her posture, but I can tell this will help her. Even if she won’t ask.

“My parents have seats, and they wanted to invite Liam if you needed some help.

She bites her lip. “They wouldn’t mind?”

“No.” I smile sadly at her. “They’d love it. They love them.”

“Yeah.” She nods, biting her lip.

They love you too, you just need to let them in. I want to say, but keep it quiet.

“What are you doing after your game?”

I smile again, because I can tell she’s mildly stalling. And to be honest, I’d happily be late to my game for a few more moments with her.

“What time are you done?” I ask, being a little bolder and pulling her hat from her shining hair, tucking a few strands back and smoothing them before putting it back on. “I’ll be there to pick you guys up.”

“Rhys—”

“Quiet. That one’s non-negotiable.”

She nods again, cheeks pink; whether from the weather or me, I’ll never know.

We all pile into my mom’s car, an SUV for kids—where my dad and I spent the entire morning trying to get the car seat in properly. The thing was like a fucking spaceship.

The entire drive to the local rink is twenty minutes of ABBA, with Liam scream-singing at the top of his lungs. It’s ridiculous, and loud, and yet, I can see it soften both Oliver and Sadie.

When I pull into the parking lot, before Oliver can slam out of the car, I pause and look at Sadie.

“I just want you to know that taking care of your brothers by yourself is very brave. You’re so strong and smart, and I hope I can be half as incredible one day.”

I say it in front of her brothers, because I need them to understand how brave and amazing their big sister is—and how nothing that’s coming will change that. That no one wants to take them from her, nor her from them.

“I’m here, for all of you, okay? I love you.”

My eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, locking with Oliver’s. “I love all of you.”

Liam giggles. “I love you too, Rhys.”

I unlock the car and Oliver waits a bit before getting half out of the car. He turns back to me, because he’s on my side of the car and nods. “Love you.”

My heart clenches because I know how rare those words are from him even to his own family.

He shuts the door and starts towards the ice plex entrance.

Sadie hesitates, but turns and kisses me on the cheek. For a moment I think about turning to try to catch her lips, but I stay still as she leans her mouth to my ear.

“Love you,” she repeats. “And thank you, hotshot. Now go kick their asses.”

We do.

It was an overtime game, and we didn’t play well enough for what’s coming—but I’m fucking beaming as I shower afterwards because that last goal was mine.

That, and because I know my girl saw it, because right at the glass was Aurora, decked in our colors, videoing with her phone nearly constantly. And when we came off to celebrate in the dressing room, her text was the first thing I saw.

You’re golden, hotshot. Can’t wait to watch you on my television soon.

I pick her and Oliver up, Liam fast asleep in the car seat—he’d been asleep in my father’s arms for half the game. So, the ride back is nearly silent.

I carry Liam in, laying him on the sofa and hating how cold it feels in her house. But I can tell she thinks I’m hovering, so I walk back out the front door, praying she’ll follow.

She does.

Sadie stands in front of her house, backpack hanging from one shoulder. I want to ask to stay over tonight, just to make sure they’re okay, but I hold back. Only if she asks me.

“I, um, I have a competition next week.” Her hand plays with a lock of hair and she looks more nervous than I think I’ve seen her before. “It’s three days, in New Hampshire. I missed the last one cause it was all the way in Colorado. And I was going to back out to take care of the boys, but…”

My chest squeezes. She’s asking for help.

“My parents would love it if the boys stayed with them for a few days, Sadie.”

“Really?” she asks, but I’m already striding to her.

I take her head in my hands and kiss her forehead hard, before tucking her whole body into a tight hug that I need just as desperately as she does—even if she won’t ask for it. She sinks into my arms, tension melting away.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper. “I know it takes a lot for you to ask for help. But, I’m so proud.”