The Muse and the Fairy Tale (New Hampshire Bears #1) (20 page)

Kyson,

There’s no such thing as fairy tales.

-The Author-

I handed the book to him. As he read the words I wrote, my heart broke again. Why was I such a smart person on some subjects, but not when Mr. Right was standing in front of me?

“Okay.” He sat the book down on the table, and I watched him walk away.

“You wrote what to him?” Caryn’s face seemed shocked. “Why?”

“Because I love him.”

Caryn looked baffled. “Meadow, why don’t you explain that to me?”

“I’m crying all the time. I mean, I’ve cried more in the past two weeks than in my entire life. He just got Angela out of his life, and she was horrible. He doesn’t need me jumping into his life with all my baggage.”

Caryn pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “Meadow, I’m aware this is only our second session together. Also, I pride myself in being a good judge of character. However, I am going to take a moment, take off my professional cap, and say, what kind of shit are you thinking?”

“Well…” I had nothing to say. I’d already said it. “I don’t want to mess up his life.”

“He came to you. He’s texting you. He loves you. You love him. I don’t see what the problem is, and you’re giving up your fairy tale.”

“What if he dies?”

Caryn shook her head. “Meadow, death is a sentence we all have, we just don’t know when it’ll be over.”

I closed my eyes, knowing she was right.

“Tomorrow Kyson could get on the ice, hit the boards, and be paralyzed for life, but does it mean you would love him less?”

I opened my eyes. “I’d still love him no matter what.”

“Then why are you pushing him away?” Before I could answer, she continued. “Let me ask you this, what if Kyson was hit by a puck in the head and died? How regretful would you feel right now?”

My stomach dropped. It could happen. Then again, something could happen to me. Kyson would never know how I felt then.

“I’m going to give you homework, Meadow.”

“What?”

“I want you to go and talk to Kyson. You need to tell him everything.”

“You’ve only just met me, and we’ve barely talked about my other relationships. Why are you pushing this on me?” She seemed to be rushing to conclusions.

“Kyson.”

“Huh?”

“Kyson was the one and only name of all your relationships you’ve mentioned. He’s the only one you’ve talked about these two session. Is there someone more significant in your life you want to discuss?”

There was no one else who mattered but Kyson. Maybe, I could talk to him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kyson

My heart hurt when I left Meadow at the bookstore. It killed me to see the words she’d written on the book. Deep down, I knew she didn’t mean it. I knew she was still working through a lot. I don’t know how I knew, but I felt it.

I placed another order of roses for Meadow. Even though Harlow and Maxima told me to plant myself on Meadow’s porch, I knew it wouldn’t work. I had thought of the same plan. But Meadow was different. She wanted a fairy tale, not a guy banging down her front door.

I wanted to show her I was her Prince Charming. I didn’t care if I had to send flowers every day for the rest of my life; I was going to prove to her I was the one.

“I wouldn’t send that message,” Keaton said, looming over my shoulder on the bus.

“What? Why?” I picked a quote when I’d Googled William Shakespeare. He was supposed to be romantic.

“It’s from Romeo and Juliet.”

“And what’s your point?” I thought it would be fitting.

“Dude, they died.” Remington easily explained as he popped into the conversation. “You don’t want to put a death quote on a card you’re sending. Aren’t you supposed to be winning her back?”

“Good point. What should I put then?”

Keaton romantically sighed. “In the words of the great Marvin Gaye:
let’s get it on
.”

Remington and I both groaned. “Just forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own.” I turned back to my iPad and the pending order on the screen.

Dearest Baby.

I miss our fairy tale.

Yours,

Kyson

“You’re a sap,” Keaton teased and sat back down.

I ignored him and looked out the window as we made our way to the hotel. It wasn’t snowing in sunny Alabama where we were to play the Blacksmiths, and I welcomed the sunshine. I could see Meadow and I taking vacations here, visiting the small shops around, and trying all the food.

That was my fairy tale.

When we reached the hotel, we all shuffled off the bus, I was rooming by myself this time. We’ve got a couple players injured, leaving me without a roomie. I laid out my suit for tomorrow’s game and made sure it wasn’t too wrinkled.

Knock. Knock.

I was certain it was Keaton saying he was hungry. He always complained about not eating enough. I swung the door open, and my mouth dropped. It wasn’t Keaton. In front of me was Meadow.

“Hi.” She gave me a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” My body was in shock; she was less than two feet from me. The last time I saw her, she practically threw our relationship into the trash, but here she was.

“Oh sorry, um, I should have called.” She started to rush away, but I pulled her back to me.

She wasn’t getting away this time. “I’m just surprised you’re here.”

“I need to talk to you,” she whispered.

I led her into my room and right to the chair by the window. Even though I wanted to throw her on the bed and bury myself in her, I knew I needed to restrain myself. At least, until after she talked to me. I took a seat on the side of the bed and looked at her. I waited for her to start talking.

“Thank you for all the flowers. My house smells like a rose garden.”

“You’re welcome.”

We fell back into silence, and I desperately wanted to scream for her to hurry up and tell what was going on. But I remained quiet.

“A couple weeks ago, I started seeing a therapist.”

Even though I knew she was, I didn’t acknowledge this. I don’t want anything to ruin her being here.

“Actually, only two sessions, but she’s very intuitive and pretty much reads me like a book. No pun intended.”

I smirked at her small joke.

“I never went and talked to anyone after Mom died. I thought I’d handled everything fine. But looking back at it now, I didn’t do a very good job.”

She pushed her hand through her blonde hair and took a deep breath.

“Shortly after Mom died, I stopped dating. I mean, I tried to date, but I found something wrong with every single guy. I decided then just to keep it casual with guys and hold out for my fairy tale. I made up the fairy tale because I knew no one could meet my extremely unreachable standards.

“When I started writing, full-time, I locked myself away with my fictional characters and shut the real world away. I tried online dating, but that was a bust after a few dates. So again, I grabbed hold of my fairy tale.”

I wanted to hug her as I watched a tear roll down her cheek, but I stayed rooted in place on the bed.

“My life was just the way I wanted it, until I met you, Kyson. I didn’t have to feel anything until you came into my life.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be offended, but I held my tongue. She harshly wiped her cheeks.

“I fell in love with you. You were funny, smart, kind…hot. Everything I’d searched for. Yes, you’re ten years younger than I am, and I realize it bothered me.”

“Baby, it’s just a number.” I tried to reason with her, but she held up her hand.

“Let me get this out.”

“Okay.” I backed down. “Go ahead.”

“I know it’s a number, but it mattered to me. When I came to your apartment, I knew I’d overreacted, and my apology was sincere, but seeing her,” she shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I should have never let her into the apartment.”

“Kyson, I broke when I left you. It was the first time I’d felt what my mother told me all those years ago. I had a broken heart. The world had ended in my mind, because you weren’t in it. I locked myself away because I felt I couldn’t go on.”

“I was the same way,” I confessed. “I wanted to break everything, hit everything, and none of it would have fixed the hole in my heart because I’d lost you.” I choked on my words.

“I’m scared, Kyson. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t make it.” She sobbed, and I grabbed her, gathering her in my arms.

“Oh, baby.” I kissed the top of her head as she nestled into my chest.

I rocked her back and forth, basking with her in my arms, but I hated seeing her hurting. I’d give up anything for her not to cry.

“Hey,” I lifted her chin to look up at me. Her blue eyes were sad and the worst I’ve ever seen them. “I want to ask you something.”

“What?” She sniffed.

“If your mom knew what was going to happen to her, would she still have married your father?”

Meadow laid on my chest. “Yes, I think she would have.”

I held her tightly. “Meadow, I’m not leaving you. I can’t promise you I’ll turn into Edward Cullen and live forever, but I’m down for tearing this headboard up right now.”

She tried hard not to laugh, but after a second, she let it out. It was a great sound. “Thank you.” She stroked my cheek.

“I love you, and I can’t be without you either.” I leaned down and kissed her. She still tasted of cherries.

“I’m not done talking.” She pulled back. “I acted rashly and I’m sorry. I should have believed you, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

“Let’s do this.” I adjusted my body and was able to get her on her back. “I want to start over, right now. A clean slate.”

“You and me only.”

“Well,” I shook my head. “Kian, Remington, and Keaton might be around more.”

Meadow smiled. “I could live with that.”

I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and ran my hand down toward her neck. “You’re my fairy tale.”

“You’re my muse.”

Epilogue

Meadow

“How are you feeling now?” Caryn smiled.

“Amazing. Great. Overjoyed.” I beamed.

“You seem to be very happy. Want to tell me what happened?”

I told her everything. I made the decision to see Kyson when I left Caryn’s office last week. I knew he was on the road, but thankfully I was able to get a plane that arrived around the same time as his.

Of course, I didn’t know which hotel he would be in. Harlow was able to contact Keaton and they forwarded all the information to me. If it hadn’t been for them, I wouldn’t have known Kyson’s room number.

“What happened after you told him everything?”

“We laid in bed and held each other until he had to go to the game.”

“I’m glad you took my advice. However, I would suggest you continue to come to sessions because you still have a lot to talk about.”

I nodded. “I didn’t realize until now how much I’d held in. I mean, my previous therapy was talking to fictional characters.”

“That’s fine. We all have our own outlets. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Do you have one?”

“Yes, I love to knit.”

“Really?”

“Does it shock you?”

“A little. I guess I’m used to the stereotype of an older woman sitting in her rocking chair, knitting away.”

Caryn laughed. “That is the typical stereotype. I promise, I don’t own a rocking chair.”

I giggled. Caryn was much too young to be described as an
old knitting lady
.

“How about next week we go further in depth about your dad?”

I nodded. “Any homework?” I joked.

“Yes. Enjoy Kyson.”