Page 72 of Strange Love

Corey - 1994

My heart is heavy with conflicting emotions as I return to this place. The familiar streets and buildings bring a sense of comfort but also a pang of sadness for how much has changed. This town was once my home, the place where I belonged. Even after five years away, it still holds a special place in my heart, but it doesn’t exactly feel like home anymore.

As I drive from the airport, the scenery is all too familiar. The same shops and houses line the streets, with a few new buildings sprinkled in here and there. Sadly, some of the places where I used to spend time with friends have closed down or been replaced by something else. My mom has kept me updated on the happenings around here, but it’s a different feeling to witness it with my own eyes. It’s a reminder that time marches on, even when we’re not there to witness it. Everything changes.

Instead of following the well-worn path into town, I feel an inexplicable pull towards the highway that leads to the old trailer park. It’s not the nicest area, never was, but it holds so many memories for me.

As I approach, I see that not much has changed. The trailers are still clustered like a small community, but now they seem more beaten and worn down. Graffiti covers dumpsters and abandoned buildings, signs of neglect in this forgotten town.

I reflect on my past here as I drive slowly through the park. All those years, I couldn’t wait to leave and make something of myself somewhere else. And now, standing at the peak of what I thought would make me happy, success in hockey, I realize that life isn’t so simple.

The path to true happiness isn’t lined with achievements and accolades but rather with treasured relationships and unforgettable experiences. This truth becomes most apparent when something remarkable happens, and all you want to do is share it with that one person who is no longer a part of your life.

Don’t misunderstand me, I have been blessed with many opportunities. I’m on the brink of signing with the team of my dreams, and my college hockey career has been exceptional, earning both success on the ice and my degree. My circle of friends and teammates is strong, and I couldn’t ask for more over the past five years. But I’m nagged by a restless stir. It’s been present since I walked out of that barn so long ago.

Even in moments where I should feel content, surrounded by good company, admiring a beautiful woman’s presence, or celebrating a victory in the Frozen Four, there’s always a lingering sense of something missing. As much as I hate to acknowledge it, I know deep down what that something is. And while I have learned to accept this reality, understanding that dwelling on the past will not bring fulfillment, it still tugs at my heartstrings in quiet moments.

I leave the trailer park behind, but I can’t bring myself to drive straight to my mom and Alan’s house. There are a few things I need to see first, and besides, I know their house will be in chaos this morning with everyone getting ready for the wedding. I missed the rehearsal dinner last night because of a prior commitment in Boston, so I’m arriving late, and I need a moment by myself to breathe and process what it means to me to return to this town.

I pull up to Donnelly Ice Center and step out of my car. It’s a bustling Saturday afternoon, with kids running in and out of the center. My feet feel rooted to the ground when I approach the entrance like they refuse to move any closer. This place holds some of the best memories of my life, but it also brings back pain that I’m not ready to face just yet, so I sit and watch the hustle and bustle, unable to go inside.

I’m not sure how long I stand there, watching families filter in and out of a place where I spent so much time. As I watch, waves of nostalgia crash over me, stirring up emotions I keep guarded down low, far from the surface. Maybe this trip is about allowing myself to feel these things so I can finally find closure and move on with my life.

My next stop is Ivy’s childhood home. My body would've carried me to this place even if I didn’t want to come here. I know from conversations with Sarah that Ivy has an apartment now, but I can’t resist stopping and looking over where we spent so much time together, especially parked on the curb in front of her house. Those hours with her in my beat-up car, kissing and talking, are among the most intimate of my life.

After I left town, I had every intention of reaching out to her. But every time I picked up the phone to call, the pain would become too overwhelming, and I couldn’t find the courage to hear her voice again. We both needed to be alone, at least in Ivy’s eyes, and I wanted to give her that space. I did resort to checking in on her occasionally with Sarah. No details, just generally wondering if she was doing okay.

As I sit in front of the house, I’m shocked at how much our breakup still hurts to this day. Mostly because it wasn’t anyone’s fault. No one did anything wrong, yet, our time together was cut short. It wasn’t fair, which may be the most difficult thing to grapple with.

I was angry with Ivy at first. It was easier than allowing myself to feel the pain, so I blamed her for not trying harder and for not giving us more of a chance. As I got older, time dulled the sharp edges of the breakup, and I understood what she needed.

I no longer hold any anger towards her. The bitterness has faded away over time. That doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to seeing her. It will undoubtedly hurt like hell, especially if she is with someone new. That might destroy me.

There was a moment when I considered not attending this wedding at all, trying to come up with any excuse to get out of it, but Amanda insisted that it would be important for public relations and she always gets what she wants.

Finally, after wasting too much time driving down memory lane in this rental car, I pull up to Mom and Alan’s house, and more memories of my teenage years come flooding back. The familiar house where I spent most of my adolescence stands before me, reminding me how hard they worked to get me to this point.

I always wanted to take care of my mom and lift her out of the difficult place we once called home. I thought it was my job since my dad had abandoned us. In some ways, I think I also saw it as my place to take care of Ivy. But now, as I step out of the car, I realize that perhaps no one needed me to do those things.

My heart swells with love and emotion as my mother runs down the driveway, her face lighting up at the sight of me. We embrace tightly, and as she leads me inside the house, nostalgia overwhelms me. I’ve seen her over the years when she visits me in Boston, but being in our home together is different. It feels like coming full circle. She fills me in on the latest with the wedding festivities and some of the things happening around town, and I try to listen while my brain keeps reminding me on repeat that I’m about to see Ivy again.

Chapter 41

“If You Leave”

Ivy - Age 23, 1994

My heart is pounding as we gather in the bride’s suite before the ceremony. I try to focus on Sarah, but every glance at her makes me more nervous. She looks like an ethereal being, radiating beauty and joy.

Her long, dark brown hair cascades down her back in loose waves, perfectly complementing her delicate features. The use of contact lenses brings out the deep richness of her eyes, making them sparkle with happiness and anticipation.

A pang of envy hits me as I realize she’s accomplished everything she set out to do— travel, education, and marrying the man of her dreams. I can’t help but hope those things will be possible for me one day too.

The wedding planner arrives to inform us it’s time to take our places for the ceremony. My stomach twists into knots at the thought of walking into that church, knowing Corey will be standing at the front, waiting to see his cousin get married.

The music begins, and I slowly walk down the aisle, trying to keep my breathing steady and avoid eye contact with anyone in particular. But as I get a few feet from the altar, I can’t resist looking up, and my gaze immediately locks onto Corey’s towering figure. There he stands, next to Tim, Sarah’s fiancé. My feet turn to lead and I come to a stop, unable to move any closer. The sight of him is almost suffocating, and my heart feels like it might burst from my chest.

Kerri nudges me from behind, and I manage to slowly begin walking again. My feet feel uncertain beneath me as Corey’s intense gaze burns into my skin like a branding iron. It’s almost unbearable, the way he looks at me. I try to avoid his eyes, but they keep pulling me in like a magnet.