XAVIER'S POV

It had been two weeks. Two long, dragging, miserable weeks since I shut the door in Melissa’s face and told Katrina to leave.

And yet, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself that I was fine, that I didn’t need Melissa, that I could move on and focus on hockey and other things again—the truth kept punching me in the gut. I wasn’t fine. Not even close.

Every time I reached for a mug in the kitchen, I remembered her pouring herself tea and laughing at ...