Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
“You did. Right on his jawline,” I add, watching as his figure fades into the distance.
“Well, that was the cherry on top of my night. The only thing that could have made it better is if his right hand was mangled beyond recognition, leaving all of us free of sad faces this Christmas,” she says, her grin reminiscent of the Grinch. I can’t help but chuckle at her dark humor, and for a moment, I manage to push all thoughts of Marshall aside.
As the night wears on, it becomes evident that it’s well past Cole and Barrett’s bedtime when we finally decide to leave. I bid Cole farewell as Easton fastens him into the car seat. “Dream about firetrucks that dance to Christmas music!” I say, my voice light and playful.
Jackson offers me a soft goodbye, his demeanor quieter than usual.
Easton walks me to my car, the night air crisp around us. “Text me when you get home. Maybe you’ll even call,” he suggests, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.
“I will,” I promise, feeling a flutter of warmth in my chest.
He leans down, brushing his lips against mine in a gentle kiss. “Let’s plan another date this week. Bye for now,” he whispers, before stepping back.
I follow Sydney home, my mind still swirling with the events of the evening. As I pull into my driveway, my headlights illuminate a figure slumped on my porch. He raises his head slightly, squinting at the sudden brightness.
“Syd, I need you to come over. Like, right now,” I call out, my heart racing. I hang up, knowing she’ll be on her way in an instant.
I step out of the car, dread pooling in my stomach as I approach my door. I swallow hard, trying to steady my nerves.
“Did we somehow emit a Soames beacon tonight?” Syd mutters under her breath, catching up to me.
“We definitely need to disable it. What are you doing here, Julian?” I ask, my voice steady despite the unease churning inside me.
“I need to talk to you,” he says, his eyes red and puffy, as if he’s been crying.
“About what?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.
“About how you need to get revenge on two coaches and my brother,” he declares, standing tall before us. “Why didn’t you expose him for lying to everyone? It wasn’t a one-night stand. You thought you were actually dating him. You never knew about Brooklyn.”
A wave of despair washes over me at his words. “How did you find out?” I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“My mother… Brooklyn sent her everything the night of… the night she died. All the messages, the photos you gave her, pictures of five or six other girls over the years, a recording of her confrontation with him where he finally admitted everything. The bastard even told her he was going to spend the night with you after she broke things off. She threw his ring at him, and he got furious. He told her you were coming to pick him up and that he was glad to be with you.”
A gasp escapes Sydney’s lips as horror washes over me. “That’s why she… I always wondered why she did that.”
“I’m so sorry, Luci. I’m so unbelievably sorry for how I treated you,” Julian says, a tear escaping down his cheek. “I believed him. I mean, what kind of jerk would lie about something like that?”
“Your brother,” I say bluntly, the words tumbling out with a weight I can’t ignore.
“Exactly. A conceited jerk,” Syd scoffs, her disdain palpable.
“I confronted him last night. He tried to deny everything until I showed him the video Brooklyn took. Then he laughed. That monster laughed about you being blamed. He said you deserved whatever came your way because Brooklyn was dead and you were still alive. He only cares about himself. He claimed that if the truth came out, it might tarnish his precious reputation. Humphries always acted like his daughter was some kind of saint. She could have killed you!”
“It sounds like she had her own motives-your brother’s life. I would have just been icing on the cake, I guess. Do you want to know why he treated me so poorly? Your coach. Did he ever tell you before you accepted his mantle of bullying?” I ask, my voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within me.
He shakes his head, confusion etched on his face. “Because he knew Brooklyn would be painted in a bad light. You’ve given me the last piece of the puzzle. She was intoxicated and tried to commit murder or manslaughter-whatever legal term they’d slap on it. He told me it wasn’t fair that his daughter was gone because her boyfriend was with someone like me. That I ruined everything for her and Marshall. Forget the fact that Marshall lied and used me. I was the other woman, but I had no idea. Neither did some of the other girls. I wonder if Humphries knew he had so many affairs. Once people found out what happened, they would talk badly about Brooklyn, and she wouldn’t be here to defend herself. It was better for people to hate me because I was still breathing. He actually said that. I became a pariah, and anyone his brother could influence would treat me like trash while she remained the golden girl martyr. Irony is more bitter than truth, I swear. And your brother threatened to ruin my life if I ever said anything. I was in the hospital for two weeks, severely injured, and he came by once I was conscious, threatening to hurt me again. What a stand-up guy.”
Julian hangs his head, tears continuing to fall. My heart softens just a fraction. “He fooled me too. I believed his words once. He’s your brother, Julian. You had no reason to believe me over him if I’d said anything. I didn’t, knowing he was Marshall Soames, the star quarterback, and I was… how did he phrase it? Oh yes, the throwaway foster kid that no one wants or will believe.”
Julian winces at my words. “You called me that too. I get why you thought he was telling you the truth. I could even forgive you for that, and I do. You should be able to trust your brother. What I can’t understand or forgive is why that meant you had to be such a cruel bastard to me. Pouring cold water on me after your friend tripped me. Constantly trying to intimidate me. Do you know what it feels like to be seen as less than a real person? As a throwaway, merely because you have no family? I guess that’s beside the point. Whether or not I’m worth the paper my birth certificate is printed on doesn’t mean you should treat me like trash. And you did that on your own. You could have supported your brother by simply ignoring me. Not being my friend. Instead, you took pleasure in tormenting me, all at the behest of an adult. Your coach, someone who is supposed to inspire you to be a good role model. I doubt he knows the meaning of the word. I’d watch myself if I were you. You’re heading down a path that could lead to your own destruction if you keep letting others dictate your actions.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flash drive. “Here. I brought you this. It could help you.”
“What is it?” I ask, curiosity piqued.
“The video of me confronting him, along with everything Brooklyn sent my mother that night. This is going to create a whole new level of drama at my house once I blow this up in their faces. My dad has no idea. He abhors cheating and thinks my brother is still dedicated to Brooklyn’s painful memory. My mother covered up this crazy nonsense. I think you should expose all of it.”
“Your family has enough money, Julian, to make anything like this disappear. They’d spin it to make me look like some obsessed, crazy person who he rejected for his one true love,” I reply, feeling a wave of hopelessness wash over me.
“I’m truly sorry, Luci.”
“Don’t be. Be better for the next person who gets mistreated,” I say, my voice firm. I don’t tell him that I forgive him because, in this moment, I don’t. I’m all out of forgiveness.
“I’ll do better than that, Luci. They won’t get away with this. I can make sure it’s believed,” he insists, determination shining in his eyes.
“No, Julian, they will bury you and your future career. They’ll paint you as the jealous brother. They’re not worth blowing up another life, one who’s been manipulated just like you,” I warn, my heart heavy with the weight of his words.
“Don’t you want them to pay for what they’ve done to you, Luci? Don’t you want revenge? Justice?” His voice rises, caught up in the overwhelming betrayal he feels.
“Revenge isn’t what you think, Julian. It doesn’t always help. And justice is a joke. People like me get burned by justice. Your coaches would receive a mere slap on the wrist. They could deny they ever said anything about me. All hearsay. Your brother would continue to play, make millions, and women would still line up at his door. There’s no scenario where you releasing this harms them. Right now, you’re seeking revenge for your betrayal by him and the shame of believing his lies. This isn’t about doing something for me, so don’t try to paint it that way. Go home and take some time to process what happened.”
“Luci will swing by to pick you up after school today. I should be home a bit earlier than usual from practice,” I say to Cole, wrapping my arms around him in a warm embrace at his classroom door, the familiar scent of crayons and chalk lingering in the air.
“Daddy, can Luci join us for dinner?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with hope as he glances over at Mrs. Hutchins, who is busy organizing papers at her desk.