Burning Ice - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

I sat beside my mom in the sterile hospital room, the soft beeping of the machines in the background a constant reminder of what we'd just been told. Her hands were trembling as she gripped the edge of the bed, her face pale, drained of the color it had when she laughed.
The doctor's words echoed in my head, too sharp to ignore. Cancer. Aggressive. Treatment options, but no guarantees.
Mom's gaze drifted to the window, her eyes distant. I could feel the weight of it in my chest, the sinking feeling like the floor was falling out from under me.
"Mom," I whispered, my voice barely steady.
"We'll figure it out. I'll help you. We'll fight it together." I tired to reassure her, as much as me.
She looked at me then, her expression a mix of sadness and strength, like she was trying to reassure me while fighting her own fear as well.
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't want this for you." She stroked my head.
I shook my head, the words stuck in my throat. She was the one who needed reassurance, not me. But I couldn't seem to find the right words to make her feel better. All I could do was be there, even if the world around us felt like it was shattering.
Her hand reached for mine, a soft, trembling touch, and I squeezed it back. We didn't speak for a while, just holding each other's gaze, silently acknowledging the storm that was coming.
——
I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, the quiet of my apartment pressing in around me. It had been a few days since I'd seen that Nate guy, but he'd occasionally been on my mind, even though I knew it was stupid. I shouldn't be thinking about him. He was just some guy, right?
But that damn pull wouldn't go away, no matter how much I tried to distract myself.
I opened my browser and typed his name. What the hell was I even looking for? Some sign that I wasn't completely crazy for thinking about him?
Most of what came up were links about his family, his father, the real estate empire, the kind of legacy he came from. A few interviews with him, but nothing personal, just the typical athlete stuff. He'd been in the spotlight for years, but still, it felt like he was a stranger.
I found the article about a suspension. Fighting too much, too reckless. Typical hockey stuff, I guess. But the fact that it was there, that bit of information, it made something stir in my chest.
So much for the perfect image.
But, then again, it didn't surprise me. He didn't take me as the kind of guy to follow rules.
I set the phone down, staring at the screen. I should've stopped. I knew I should've. But somehow, I couldn't.
If it wasn't for my food being delivered, I probably would have spiraled out of control until I reached that last page on Google.
Gross and greasy Chinese food was exactly what I need right now. Only, like some curse from above, I was given a salad loaded with chicken and bacon and everything else that defeated the purpose of a salad.
I felt like I could cry from disappointment.
I slipped on some slippers and walked out to my car. I have to seemingly do everything myself around here.
I drove a 6pm to the city mall about 10 miles away, that's how desperate I was. And we all know that the mall has the best Chinese food.
The mall was practically empty except for a few janitors and teenage kids. I ordered my food and took a seat at a table. I couldn't wait to get home to eat, I needed it now.
I was halfway through a bite of sweet and sour chicken when I felt the unmistakable feeling of someone staring at me.
I turned around, and there this random man was, tall, dark chocolate, broad-shouldered, and with dimples that could probably get him out of any speeding ticket. Seriously, how did his face manage to look like it belonged on a billboard? It was the kind of face that made you want to reach out and punch it, but not in a bad way. Just in the "how the hell are you this attractive" kind of way.
He was standing right there, hovering over my table like I was the last person on Earth who could help him. I blinked, slowly chewing my food like maybe he'd just disappear if I pretended I hadn't noticed him.
"Hey, you mind if I sit down?" he said, his voice smooth like melted chocolate.
I stared at him for a second, wondering if he was serious.
"You see anyone else here? Or do you just get the urge to sit with random strangers in the food court at 6pm?"
His grin was almost too charming for his own good. "Maybe I'm just here for the sweet and sour chicken. But, if you're offering company, I'm all for it."
I rolled my eyes and shrugged, not sure if I should be annoyed or amused.
"Fine, but only if you don't steal my last egg roll." I half joked.
"Deal" he said, sliding into the seat across from me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I narrowed my eyes, still unsure whether I should invite him to stay or call security.
"So, what, you just go around bothering people while they eat Chinese at 6pm.?" I pointed.
He gave a mock serious nod. "Exactly. It's kind of my thing."
I snorted, a little surprised by how at ease he was. "Well, you're doing a great job of it." I rolled my eyes.
His grin only grew. "I aim to please."
He leaned forward slightly, like he was about to share some grand secret. "I'm Robert, by the way. And just so we're clear, I'm not a creep or anything. I swear, I just couldn't help but say hello."he said, a little too casually.
I raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. This was where the conversation usually went downhill. Some awkward attempt to justify why a random guy was suddenly invading my personal space. But I'd seen this act before. Men tried it all the time, hoping they could land some kind of connection by throwing out the "not a creep" line.
I took another bite of my chicken, not bothering to sugarcoat my response. "Uh-huh. You're really selling it there, Robert."
"I know, it sounds bad, but I promise, I'm not here to make things weird. Just thought you looked interesting." He chuckled, unfazed.
I glanced at him, sizing him up. He was cute, in a way that made him hard to ignore. Dark hair, a little scruff, and those dimples... God, those dimples. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover, not sitting across from me with a goofy grin.
I couldn't help it. A part of me appreciated the honesty. It was refreshing, in a way. So, I let it slide.
"Alright, Robert," I said, putting my chopsticks down. "I'll bite. You're not a creep. But you're definitely a little forward."
He laughed, the sound easy and light.
"I can live with that. I mean, I don't make a habit of interrupting people's meals, but you seem like someone who wouldn't mind a little company."
I leaned back in my seat, scanning him over once more. He was confident, sure, but there was something oddly charming about his no-nonsense attitude. Normally, I'd shut this down fast, but he had the kind of energy that made me want to stick around a little longer. Maybe it was his openness, maybe it was his smile. Whatever it was, I couldn't deny it was working.
"Alright, Robert. You've got five minutes. Don't make it weird." I said, picking my egg roll back up.
"Five minutes?" he laughed, looking at me like I just gave him a challenge. "You'll be wishing I stayed longer."
"We'll see about that."I smirked, taking another bite.
I lay back on my bed, the soft hum of the city filtering in through the window as I stared up at the ceiling. The night had been unexpectedly interesting. Robert had been cute, charming in his own way, and definitely not as much of a creep as he had warned me he might be. We'd exchanged socials before he left, and I'd even found myself smiling at his messages. He wasn't bad company, I suppose.
He made me laugh, kept things light. But as the night wore on and the excitement of his attention faded, there was still something missing.
I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders. The images of Robert's dimples and easy smile flickered in my mind, but they couldn't quite stick. The connection just wasn't there, not like what I'd felt when I saw him. His face flashed in my mind, and I felt the familiar fluttering in my chest.
I hadn't even seen him in over a week, but there was something about him that stuck with me. It was more than just the way he looked with his tall, broad-shouldered, with that rough edge. It was the way he made me feel. That quiet intensity that was so different from Robert's casual charm. Every time I thought about him, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever really see him again.
I let out a breath and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the pull of him in my thoughts. It wasn't like I had any reason to fixate on him. It was ridiculous, really, he was probably some kind of rich asshole who'd never even think about me twice. But there was that flicker of a moment when he did look at me in the club. That brief interaction that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I was more than a pretty face.
The more I tried to push it away, the more Nate's presence lingered in the back of my mind. It wasn't fair. I didn't even know him. I didn't even want to know him. So why was I lying here, thinking about him, when Robert had been so much easier to talk to?
I rolled over, face-first into the pillow, exhaling a deep breath as my mind drifted. For a brief moment, I could almost feel his eyes on me again, that heaviness in his gaze that had stirred something deep inside me. And as sleep finally pulled me under, I couldn't shake the thought that, no matter how hard I tried to move on, Nate was one I wouldn't forget for a while.