Page 65 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Twenty
Maddox
My heart races, the traitorous fucker. But I go on because she needs to know. I’ve kept the secret from everyone since we found out fifteen years ago, but now there’s a need to share and I’m not sure why—or I refuse to admit why—but I’m sure that Harper needs to know.
“I went through a battery of tests that confirmed I inherited the gene for my dad’s heart condition. Luckily my two sisters didn’t inherit the trait. But I’m officially at risk for Dilated Cardiomyopathy and I’m monitored regularly for signs of the condition.”
“Oh.” Her voice is strangled. “What is dilated cardio…?” She waves a shaky hand, her emerald eyes sparkling with endless compassion.
“It’s a condition where your lower chambers, the ventricles, enlarge over time. I don’t have symptoms—yet. But I have an increased risk for the condition, which can cause life-threatening heart rhythm abnormalities.” I pause, trying to control the sadness, trying not to feel overwhelmed and looking to lighten it up. But I can’t sugarcoat this for her. It’s too important.
“Translation—I’m at risk for sudden and premature heart failure. Like my dad. But don’t worry. I have regular checkups to look for possible symptoms and signs. They’ll put me on medication, or a pacemaker if need be, as soon as anything shows up and that usually prevents the acute symptoms, I’m told.”
“I—Jett, the agency never knew. What does the team think of this?” She turns away but I hear the sense of betrayal in her voice.
“Nothing. They don’t know. I have my own private cardiologist in New York. They do cardiac testing and physical examinations periodically. Eventually, when and if symptoms show up and I need to take medication to prevent acute enlargement of my heart, that will be the end of my career.”
“I’m so sorry, Maddox.” She puts a hand on my chest, right over my heart. Fuck. “It’s good that you know about the condition. So you can prevent it.” Her shiny emerald eyes look up at me, struggling for hopefulness. I try shrugging it off, like all this means nothing, changes nothing, because it doesn’t, does it? We were never going anywhere.
My genetic makeup hasn’t changed.
And I have to make her understand that. Right now.
“Knowing is a double-edged sword, Harper. I’m taking steps to prevent early heart failure like my father had, but I also have a responsibility to make sure I don’t pass down the inherited trait.” I heave an uneven heavy breath. “So no children for me. Ever.” She flinches. I clamp down on the surge of protest in my gut and drop the final bomb.
“No family means no marriage.”
Her eyes go wide and tears spring like she’s the goddess of sadness. I squeeze her close, trying to absorb the shock, the sense of loss I know we both feel.
This is the exact thing I’ve been trying to avoid since I was twelve, the reason I’ve been avoiding serious women all my fucking life.
“That’s too drastic.” She pushes away, breaking my tight embrace. “You said neither of your sisters inherited the condition, so it’s not—”
“It’s not up for discussion. I had a vasectomy when I turned eighteen.” Her mouth closes and her cheeks redden as if I’ve slapped her. “So you see, I’m a permanent bachelor. Lifelong and committed. Not one of those guys who talks a good game and changes their mind first time they fall…” I swipe my hand through my hair and clear my throat.Am I falling for Harper?
Does it even matter?
As soon as the season is over, we’re over.
She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, tears streaming, and I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.
“Maybe it was a mistake to tell you,” I croak past my emotion.
“No, that’s not your mistake,” she says, and she shoves off me and practically leaps from the bed like she’s going over the boards and skating away. She gathers her things as she heads for the door and, unlike what other women might do, my sugar buns closes the door gently after her, completely containing the fury she must feel.
Without ever telling me what my mistake is.
But I know. I should never have seduced her, should never have given in to the temptation.
* * *
I’m almost surprised she’s still here in the morning, but the smell of coffee wakes me before the alarm I set for early practice. When I reach the kitchen, she’s standing there waiting, wearing her brown pinstripe suit, her emerald eyes sparkling and emotional energy arcing and grabbing me by the throat.
“Do you want something to eat?” she asks. I shake my head. I want to go to her, to take her in my arms and hug her, tell her… I don’t know what the hell I want to tell her.
“When was the last time you had a checkup with your cardiologist?” she asks out of nowhere. Well maybe not exactly nowhere. She’s obviously been thinking about my condition all night. Fuck.
“It’s been a while,” I say, guilt pinching my conscience because I know I missed an appointment since the move from NOLA. Needing to keep my secret, I’d been reluctant to reschedule until the end of the season with Harper dogging me. “Don’t worry. The end of the season is only two months away.” She frowns. Of course.
