Read Online Their New Beginning (Oh Captain, My Captain #5) by Lindsay Paige, Mary Smith, Rebecca Cartee - Free Book Online Page B
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if you want, I guess so.” He shrugs, closing the book.
I don’t have a lot of time to get ready. I quickly brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a ponytail. I run over to the closet and slide into my favorite ripped jeans and my Gamblers T-shirt. On the back, it says The Wife and has Jax’s number eighty-seven on it. I grab my purse, phone, and jacket as I head out the door to meet Jax in the car.
He heads toward the rink, and I look over at him. He’s in his dark blue suit, one of my favorites, with a bright yellow silk tie.
“I’m sure you don’t remember, but I didn’t think I was going to like hockey when you dragged me to that first game. Do you remember?”
After a few seconds, he answers. “I remember. You didn’t know what the hell was going on unless someone scored,” he chuckles. “I remember trying to impress you. I’ve never wanted to score as badly as I did that night. I wanted it to be my best game ever since it was your first game.”
“You didn’t score,” I remind him. “But I was impressed that you stayed on your feet when you kept getting slammed into the boards.” I giggle, remembering how many times he had been hit that night. It was like he had a target on his back.
“It was hard, that’s for sure. I didn’t want to fall in front of you, yet.”
The car grows silent as we get closer to the rink.
“Jax,” I know that I shouldn’t say anything because he needs to focus on his game, but I need to know. “Will we ever get there again? Will we be the couple who got married one morning and didn’t care how everyone said we were crazy?”
“I don’t know, Avery, but I hope so.”
My heart thumps with anticipation of thinking we could be what we once were. I remember Regina’s words. I made a mistake. I want to fight. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’m sorry, Jax. This is my fault. I know it. I should have been an adult and talked to you. I shouldn’t have let it go on as long as it did. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was being selfish. I put myself first, and that wasn’t right. I hope you can forgive me.”
“We’re both to blame. I’m sorry, too.”
“I’m sorry I yelled earlier. You had the right to ask all those questions. You needed to know I’m not knocked up nor do I have some disease. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
He glances at me. “I’m sorry for calling you a whore. I don’t think you are one.” He takes a deep breath, and I can see the pain on his face. “And I’m sorry for making you cry.”
For the rest of the drive, we stay in quiet. I want to hold his hand so badly. I want to touch him. I haven’t had sex with my husband in almost seven months. I miss him.
He pulls into his place at the parking garage, parks, and we walk inside. There are several other players and family members around us.
“Good luck, Jax.” I lean in closer to him, smelling his cologne. “Try to score; Ashton’s up by one.”
He smirks at me. “I’ll try my best.” He leans toward me and I think he may kiss me or at least give me a hug, but he doesn’t. Jax looks at me for moment and then walks away.
Somewhere in all the darkness of yelling, name-calling, and pain, there’s light at the end of it all. I know that he can still feel the love and pull between us. I stand there, watching him stroll down the long corridor, running his hands through his mop of messy black hair, knowing that I’ll continue to do anything for him and our marriage.
As I sit in the players’ family box, a lot of the wives, and kids too, talk to me. I never felt like I fit in because Jax and I don’t have kids. Even though everyone is very kind to me, I could always tell they looked at me differently because I’d kept my career. After telling several of the wives that I’m no longer a nurse, they seem more open to me.
I’m a ball of nerves when the lights go down and the team skates out onto the ice. Like always, my husband, number 87, is
I don’t have a lot of time to get ready. I quickly brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a ponytail. I run over to the closet and slide into my favorite ripped jeans and my Gamblers T-shirt. On the back, it says The Wife and has Jax’s number eighty-seven on it. I grab my purse, phone, and jacket as I head out the door to meet Jax in the car.
He heads toward the rink, and I look over at him. He’s in his dark blue suit, one of my favorites, with a bright yellow silk tie.
“I’m sure you don’t remember, but I didn’t think I was going to like hockey when you dragged me to that first game. Do you remember?”
After a few seconds, he answers. “I remember. You didn’t know what the hell was going on unless someone scored,” he chuckles. “I remember trying to impress you. I’ve never wanted to score as badly as I did that night. I wanted it to be my best game ever since it was your first game.”
“You didn’t score,” I remind him. “But I was impressed that you stayed on your feet when you kept getting slammed into the boards.” I giggle, remembering how many times he had been hit that night. It was like he had a target on his back.
“It was hard, that’s for sure. I didn’t want to fall in front of you, yet.”
The car grows silent as we get closer to the rink.
“Jax,” I know that I shouldn’t say anything because he needs to focus on his game, but I need to know. “Will we ever get there again? Will we be the couple who got married one morning and didn’t care how everyone said we were crazy?”
“I don’t know, Avery, but I hope so.”
My heart thumps with anticipation of thinking we could be what we once were. I remember Regina’s words. I made a mistake. I want to fight. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’m sorry, Jax. This is my fault. I know it. I should have been an adult and talked to you. I shouldn’t have let it go on as long as it did. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was being selfish. I put myself first, and that wasn’t right. I hope you can forgive me.”
“We’re both to blame. I’m sorry, too.”
“I’m sorry I yelled earlier. You had the right to ask all those questions. You needed to know I’m not knocked up nor do I have some disease. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
He glances at me. “I’m sorry for calling you a whore. I don’t think you are one.” He takes a deep breath, and I can see the pain on his face. “And I’m sorry for making you cry.”
For the rest of the drive, we stay in quiet. I want to hold his hand so badly. I want to touch him. I haven’t had sex with my husband in almost seven months. I miss him.
He pulls into his place at the parking garage, parks, and we walk inside. There are several other players and family members around us.
“Good luck, Jax.” I lean in closer to him, smelling his cologne. “Try to score; Ashton’s up by one.”
He smirks at me. “I’ll try my best.” He leans toward me and I think he may kiss me or at least give me a hug, but he doesn’t. Jax looks at me for moment and then walks away.
Somewhere in all the darkness of yelling, name-calling, and pain, there’s light at the end of it all. I know that he can still feel the love and pull between us. I stand there, watching him stroll down the long corridor, running his hands through his mop of messy black hair, knowing that I’ll continue to do anything for him and our marriage.
As I sit in the players’ family box, a lot of the wives, and kids too, talk to me. I never felt like I fit in because Jax and I don’t have kids. Even though everyone is very kind to me, I could always tell they looked at me differently because I’d kept my career. After telling several of the wives that I’m no longer a nurse, they seem more open to me.
I’m a ball of nerves when the lights go down and the team skates out onto the ice. Like always, my husband, number 87, is
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