Wild Heart (Viper's Heart Duet Book 2) (19 page)

I won’t stop worrying all night if I don’t make sure.

I took out my phone and sent him a quick text.

Do you need your pain meds tonight?

My heart raced as I stared at the screen, waiting for his reply. I was mad as hell for the way he’d treated me, but that didn’t mean my feelings walked out the door with him. I still loved him a lot. More than anything, I wanted him to text and say that he needed the meds and would come back for them, then maybe stay and talk to me.

My phone lit up and I swiped the screen.

Viper:
      
No

Gutted by his one-word text, I put my phone away and turned my attention back to Matthew and Maura. I’d spent most of the day crying and feeling sorry for myself, but I still had a few hours left before they went to bed to make up for it.

While Matthew and I played Candyland and Maura “helped,” Taylor nosed around my mostly empty kitchen to try and find something to make for dinner. It was no secret that cooking was just not my thing, even after Viper spent a year trying to teach me, so when she offered to whip something up, I didn’t argue.

Just as our third game was finishing, Taylor called us to the table.

“How did you do this?” My eyes took in everything she’d made in less than half an hour. There was a huge bowl of alfredo pasta with shredded chicken, a giant bowl of broccoli, and biscuits that were still steaming from the oven.

Taylor looked at the table and shrugged. “It really wasn’t hard.” Her eyes lifted to me and she giggled. “Close your mouth and sit down. You just need to practice. You’ll get it.”

I watched in awe as Matthew and Maura shoved bite after bite of noodles, chicken, and broccoli in their mouths without me begging them to eat. My appetite wasn’t near as large as theirs, but I ate a little and pushed the rest around my plate while we all talked.

After dinner, I gave the kids each a quick bath and dressed them in clean, cozy pajamas. I tucked them into bed and went back to the kitchen, surprised and relieved to find Taylor already had the table cleared off and dishwasher running.

“Wow.” I shook my head as I gawked at my sparkling kitchen. “I swear you were a mom of twelve in a past life.”

She let out a loud laugh as she pulled her hair wavy blonde hair up into a ponytail. “Well, let’s get this started. I’m probably going to want to stab him in the eye, but I want to hear what happened anyway. Let’s pour some wine—wait—pour
me
some wine and lay it all out.”

We sat on the couch for a long time, and I told her everything. About how Viper had been acting since his injury, the phone call and his reaction to the news—every single depressing word. I was able to hold it together just enough to get the story out, even though my voice shook. She sat stunned, her mouth hanging open and her blue eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them.

“I don’t even know what to say,” she finally responded.

I exhaled loudly. “So . . . that’s why I called and asked you to get Matthew, because it had just happened and I was too upset to drive.”

She scooted closer to me and took my hand in hers. “You should have just told me then. Not only would I never judge you, I would’ve been here hours earlier to help.”

“I know that, but to be honest, I was nervous to tell you that I was pregnant, and I feel horrible about it now.”

“Why were you nervous?” she asked softly.

I shrugged. “I was married to your brother, made a life with your brother, had babies with your brother.”

“You were, but your relationship didn’t end because you or him stopped loving each other and gave up. He died. It’s horrible and sad, and I think about him every day, but he died. You didn’t. Life goes on, and you’re allowed to fall in love and make a new life that was just as great as the one you had with him.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile, then added, “And even though I’m not going to be blood related to this baby, you bet your ass I’m still going to be cool Auntie Tay and spoil the crap out of him or her.”

A small laugh broke through my sadness. “How is it that you’re younger than me, never been married, yet you seem to have it all figured out?”

“Ah.” She waved her hand and sat back against the couch. “My head is still in the clouds with Isaac, and I still want everyone to be in love all the time. I’m sure it’ll wear off eventually.”

“I sure hope not.” I looked across the room at the bookshelf in the corner that held dozens of picture frames and memories. Some of me, Viper, and the kids. Some of me, Mike, and the kids. Some of Viper and Mike. Hopefully I would be adding to that shelf, not taking pictures off of it.

“So . . .” Taylor said after a minute. “What are you going to do about Viper?”

I picked my water bottle off of the coffee table and took a long drink, trying to think about my answer. “I don’t know what
to
do,” I finally said as I screwed the cap back on. “The things he said and they way he said them—totally not okay. But I
do
love him, and I do want him to be here with me. I don’t know, Taylor. It feels like . . . he got on the plane for that road trip as one person but came back as someone totally different. And I miss that other guy, but I don’t know how to find him again.”

Taylor’s eyebrows lifted quickly. “Wow. That was . . . wow. You know him better than anyone though, Michelle. If there’s anyone that’s going to bring him out of this, it’s you.”

Part of me hoped that she was right . . . but not only did I not know how to bring him back, I wasn’t sure how much more rejection I could take.

Driving home from Michelle’s felt weird. Not only was I on pain meds and not supposed to be driving, I hadn’t been home to
my
house in a really long time. A couple of months, at least. When Michelle and I got serious, I’d started spending a night or two at her house a week, but over the last year that had gradually increased to every night. Since then, I only ran to the house to check on it maybe once every couple weeks or to grab something that I needed. All of my buddies gave me a hard time and told me to sell the house since I was never there, but for some reason I couldn’t. I liked having an escape hatch if need be. But turning into the driveway, opening the garage, and pulling my car in felt foreign.

I didn’t want to deal with my feelings or think about anything that had happened that day, so I went straight into my bedroom and never left.

The next morning I woke up to my knee throbbing. Michelle had texted to see if I wanted my pain meds, but like a stubborn douchebag, I’d said no. As I sat on the edge of my bed, I regretted not going to get them. I regretted a lot of things about the day before, actually. While I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole baby thing, my response to Michelle, and the things I’d said to her, wasn’t something I was proud of, nor could I take it back. I’d acted like a first-class asshole, and she’d had every right to tell me to leave . . . and slap me.

As I limped to my bathroom, I prayed that I had Advil or Tylenol in the cabinet; otherwise, I’d have to come up with plan B.

“Boom!” I called out when I pulled the mirror back and saw the bottle of pills. I tossed three in my mouth and swallowed them without any water, then went in search of food. I wandered aimlessly around my kitchen. It felt weird. Every piece of furniture, every appliance, every coaster in the house was mine, but I hadn’t walked around and actually
looked
at everything in so long, it felt like I was in someone else’s house.

I didn’t even bother opening the fridge because anything in there wouldn’t have been good anyway, and the pantry wasn’t much better. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked the time to see if I could run and grab something to eat before my therapy appointment. I would only have enough time for food or a shower, and I chose the shower.

“Morning,” I said dryly as I walked past Gina, the receptionist at the physical therapy center. I propped my crutches up against the wall and climbed onto the exercise bike. I looked toward the ground and closed my eyes as I pedaled through the pain and stiffness in my knee.

“You’re five minutes early!” Sherman bellowed from across the room, making my head snap up. With his signature jolly grin plastered to his face, he crossed the room toward me and I shook my head with a laugh. He had on a bright orange Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts with white socks pulled up to his calves.

“Sherman, these outfits of yours. Let’s just say you’d lose terribly at hide and seek.” I sat back and wiped the sweat from my brow.

He paused and put both hands on his hips, striking a pose. “I know, don’t I look fabulous?”

A couple women a few stations over laughed. “You always look fabulous, Sherman!” one of them called out.

“Thanks, doll!” He waved as she blew him a kiss.

My eyes slid from Sherman to the women and back again. “You sure are popular around here.”

“You have
no
idea. Everyone loves me, especially the ladies.” He lifted a hand to the side of his mouth to block them from hearing and lowered his voice. “If you ever need pointers on how to get girls, you just let the Ole Sherm know and I’ll teach you my ways.”

I laughed out loud, so hard my shoulders shook. “Is that so? I’ll remember that one.”

“Okay, you ready to get started?” He clapped his hands enthusiastically. I’d barely had two sessions with Sherman and I could already tell that the man never ran out of energy. He was upbeat and energetic to the point where you couldn’t help but smile when you were with him. It was contagious. And not only was he like that the whole hour with me, he was like with everyone in the center, even other people’s clients. People were constantly coming up to him and giving him hugs or high-fiving him.

Sherman was hilarious to be around, but he was really good at what he did. If I gave him shit about an exercise, he pushed back harder. He explained everything he was doing and never treated me like a dumb jock.

After an hour of more quad sets, what felt like a million straight leg raises, and my new arch nemesis the prone hang, Sherman told me to follow him over to a table in the corner.

“Hop up!” He smacked the top of it loudly.

Confused by what we were doing next, I slowly lifted myself onto the table.

“Lie down and put your leg up on this, please.” He lifted a green plastic wedge up and gently put it under my knee to elevate it.

“What are you doing?” I asked, folding my hands and tucking them behind my head.

“We didn’t do it the first day because you were being a bit of a drama queen, but we’re going to do electronic stimulation of your knee today.” He stuck four sticky things to my knee and attached them to the machine next to him. “What e-stim does is stimulate your quad muscles to contract, stimulate your nerves to decrease pain, and increases blood flow all over, which, as you know, speeds up recovery. Some therapists don’t use it and think it’s a waste of time. Personally, I say it doesn’t hurt, and if it aids in the healing process and gets you back on the ice sooner, why not?”

“This is weird,” I said, staring down at the sticky pads on my knee.

“You’re weird,” he mocked as he put one bag of ice under my knee and one on top of it. “Okay, here we go.”

He pressed a few buttons and my leg instantly felt tingly.

“Whoa!” I sat up on my elbows. “That feels really weird. Is this gonna hurt?”

Sherman pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes. “Really? You’re a professional hockey player
and
you go by the name “Viper,” yet you’re worried about a little electricity on your knee? Big baby.”

I glared at him and opened my mouth to respond just as my quad muscles started contracting. “Holy shit!” I stared down at my leg, watching the muscles clench and relax, knowing that I had nothing to do with it.

“Trust me, you’ll grow to love this.”