My Forever (Our Forever Book 3) Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Elena Matthews

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.authorelenamatthews.com

  Cover Designer: © Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations, www.okaycreations.com

  Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar, www.wanderaguiar.com

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Proofreader: Anna Bloom, The Indie Hub, www.indiehub.co.uk

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 9781794665194

  To Sammy aka dipshit,

  You’re the Jo to my Kaelyn.

  Contents

  Author Note

  Playlist

  Prologue

  1. Nuthin’ But a “G” Thang

  2. Midnight Ice Cream

  3. Yang to your Grey

  4. Porn and Boobs

  5. Nothing Can Ever Happen

  6. Birthday Suit

  7. A Brand New Superhero

  8. Good and Pregnant

  9. Pumping the Python

  10. Magic Drugs

  11. Bad-Boy Chase

  12. Fucking Tears

  13. The Place I Called Home

  14. All I Can Dream About

  15. You’ve Never Been Married

  16. She Isn’t Mine

  17. A Pure Angel

  18. Just Like That

  19. Second Best

  20. Showering Is Overrated

  21. Win My Girl Back

  22. My Forever

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with Elena

  Also by Elena Matthews

  When you get to chapter 17, during a particular scene, there is a certain song I recommend you listen to. It sets the scene in a way that probably wouldn’t be as effective without the song. It will be linked in the chapter, so all you have to do is click on the song name and it will take you straight to Spotify.

  Trust me.

  This song is everything.

  Playlist

  To listen to the My Forever playlist click HERE

  Chase

  The countdown is on.

  Just ten seconds to go until the end of my career as a pro hockey player.

  I’m gonna make these final seconds count.

  The adrenaline is pumping through my veins as my gaze follows the puck, my trained eye never losing sight of it. The crowd becomes rowdier, and it only adds to my exhilaration as I take in the sounds of the blades on the ice and the echo of the sticks as they collide together.

  Eight seconds to go.

  My feet skid effortlessly along the ice as I catch the drop pass from Erikson. The opposing center is on me like a fly on shit, but with a quick flick of my wrist, I send the puck through his legs to my left wing, Curtis, who then passes it to our defenseman, Parker.

  Four seconds to go.

  I circle the opposing center before speeding forward, leaving him trailing behind me a few feet.

  The other team try to snatch the puck, but Parker is too quick, and with a rapid sweep of his arm, I lock on to it with my stick.

  Two seconds to go.

  I go in for the kill, shooting with practiced precision toward the net. Loud, piercing cheers and horns erupt throughout the entire arena as I make the goal, and before I can catch my breath, helmets get discarded on the ice, and my teammates slam into me with adrenaline-filled excitement, hugging the living shit out of me. The final buzzer sounds, and the crowd grows crazier, stamping their feet on the stands beneath them, making the thundering sound echo through the arena, along with the victorious soundtrack of DJ Khaled’s “All I Do Is Win” blasting through the speakers.

  Holy shit.

  Not only did I score my final goal for the Dallas Stars, but we also won the motherfucking Stanley Cup.

  As my teammates jump around with joy, I glance around at the crowd, and seeing eighteen thousand people on their feet, cheering us on, is a sight to behold, a sight that I will never forget. As my eyes fill with an emotion I’ve never experienced before, my defenseman and friend, Todd Reynolds, grabs my face and stares into my eyes with pure, unspoken admiration.

  “You played the game of your fucking life, man. You did it! You’re living the dream!” he shouts over the ear-piercing screams of the crowd.

  He brings me in for a brotherly hug, and for the next hour, it’s simply a blur of manly hugs and a lot more praise than a guy like me can deal with. We all get a turn of handling the Stanley Cup, and then it’s time for my final farewell skate.

  It’s surreal. I hate being in the limelight, but for my final minutes on the ice, waving at my fans and fighting back the tears, I hold my head up high in triumph, proud of the NHL career I led with the Dallas Stars for the past eleven years.

  I give the crowd a final salute before heading in the direction of the locker rooms.

  The celebration continues as soon as I walk inside, and if I thought the Stanley Cup win and my retirement was crazy on the ice, it’s nothing compared to the mayhem I walk into.

  I burst out into tear-filled laughter when I’m greeted with a champagne shower, each of my teammates shaking a bottle, hollering with praise.

  “Henderson, Henderson, Henderson,” everyone chants.

  And, with pride of being part of an awesome team for so long, I take hold of the cup that’s centered in the middle of the locker room, and I raise it like the winner that I am as I continue to get sprayed on with champagne, the fizz mixing with the tears that I have no control over.

  Coach joins us, and once the excitement dies down a little, he begins his ritual speech after every game. “I usually take this time to ride all your asses about a poor game or just scream at you because I’m your motherfucking coach, and I can.” A few of us snicker at that while taking sips of champagne from the bottles before he continues, “Tonight though, I don’t have a single bad thing to say because we won the fucking Stanley Cup! You guys fought like badass troopers out there, and your hard work paid off. I’m so proud of you all—especially you, Henderson.”

  My bottom lip trembles as I struggle to keep the tears at bay.

  “In your eleven years with the Dallas Stars, I’ve never seen you play that hard before. As a veteran leader, you played the game of your life tonight, and that’s really saying something because you’re the best center this team has ever seen. You wanted to win. I could see it with the control of the puck and the arrogant moves that usually belong in figure skating.” He raises a brow, and I chuckle along with the rest of the team. “I let that go because it was your final game, and that arrogance is what helped us win tonight.” He quickly points his fingers to the rest of my team. “Now, don’t the rest of you be getting any ideas because, if I see you guys pull that ballerina shit, you will find yourself off the ice quicker than you can blink.”

  He returns his gaze to me and smiles. “I’m honored I got the privilege to coach you for so many years. I wish we didn’t have to say good-bye, but I know you have great things planned with your charity that will change the world of hockey. I’m proud of you, sir.”

  He steps up toward me and holds his hand out. He’s never been much of a hugger, always a hand-shaker; however,
I ignore his hand and just pull him into my sweaty, champagne-covered body, crushing him with affection.

  “Thank you,” I say, patting him on the back.

  After a moment, he shrugs me off and playfully taps my cheek twice with a grin. He steps back and addresses the entire locker room, “Now, hit the showers, you smelly fuckers. We’ve a night of celebrating ahead of us!”

  Whoops and hollers follow before we all head in the direction of the showers. Coach is throwing me a retirement party. He’s rented out a sports bar for the evening, so that’s where we’re all headed.

  I shoot the shit with a few of the guys while showering before wrapping a towel around my waist. I head into the changing room, and I realize that this is the last time I’ll ever get to change in here. This is a place where I geared up for games, where Coach tore me a new one. I’ve celebrated the most incredible wins and mourned over bad games. In some ways, this place is like home to me, and I’m sad to leave it behind, but at thirty-four years old, my body is finally feeling the impact of years of brutally playing the game.

  I’m tired and bruised, and I’m ready to hang up my skates.

  Well, in terms of the NHL.

  I will never get tired of the ice.

  I’m just ready for a new start.

  Opening my locker, the first thing I’m greeted with is the divorce papers I collected from my lawyer this morning.

  I let out a jagged breath, hating how my marriage has come to this. Still unable to face it, I bypass the papers and grab a clean pair of boxers. Todd sidles up to me, slapping me on the shoulder.

  “You ready to celebrate?”

  I glance at him with a nod before I whip my towel from my waist and put on my boxers.

  “Hell yes.” I desperately need a cold beer in my hands.

  “Are you driving?” he asks.

  “Sure am, but I plan on getting drunk tonight, so I’ll be leaving the car there and grabbing a cab home.”

  “You mind giving a brother a ride?”

  My eyes land on unavoidable manila envelope containing my new start as I grab my jeans.

  “I actually need to swing by the house. There’s something I need to do. How about you ride with one of the guys, and I’ll catch up with you at the party later?”

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, there’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, and it can’t wait.”

  He nods as he opens the locker beside mine and begins dressing. “Does it have anything to do with the envelope you stuffed into your locker earlier?”

  Damn, he’s too intuitive for his own good. “Uh, yeah. I’m, um…I’m filing for divorce.”

  He blinks, but he doesn’t seem surprised by my revelation. He knows exactly what’s going on and how unhappy I’ve been for a while.

  “You’re finally getting rid of the Wicked Witch of the West?” he asks with a cock of the eyebrow.

  “Hey, she’s still my wife.” My frown is automatic, although I guess I don’t have to defend her anymore.

  “But not for much longer.” He grins, and I relax, rolling my eyes. “It’s about time, man.” His face falls into a serious line. “How are you feeling about it?”

  “Honestly? I wish it didn’t have to come down to this. She was my best friend. She was my everything. I love her, but I can’t continue to watch the grave she keeps digging for herself every time she injects that shit into her veins,” I whisper, shaking my head. The rest of the team have no idea how broken my marriage is and I’d like to keep it that way.

  “You’ve done everything to help her. You’re doing the right thing.”

  Even though I agree with him, I’m nauseated at the thought of finally walking away. Through good or bad, she’s been my entire world, and the thought of that connection being severed is a hard pill to swallow.

  Once I’ve finished dressing, the changing room empties out until I’m the only one left standing. With a final bow, I say good-bye to an incredible career that’s been nothing but kind to me.

  After speaking to a few fans on my way out and signing some autographs, I get in my car and prepare myself to say a second good-bye. The commute doesn’t usually take long, but tonight, I purposely take the slowest route to the house while I reflect on my history with the woman I always thought would be my forever.

  I met Olivia when we were teenagers. It’s crazy to think it was over twenty years ago. We were just babies.

  At thirteen years old, after being in my tenth foster home in a matter of six years, I was beginning to lose faith in the world surrounding me. I was in with the wrong crowd, getting in trouble every other day. I was a real piece of shit. Yet the day I moved into my final foster home, the place I would stay until I was eighteen, was the day my eyes fell on a real-life angel. In that moment, my life was forever altered.

  I remember being guided into the living room by my new foster parents, and the instant I saw her sitting on the sofa, everything around me melted away, and I fell in love for the very first time. She was gorgeous with clear blue eyes, blonde hair and cute freckles on her cheeks.

  Of course, she didn’t feel the same way about me. It took months for her to even look in my direction, let alone utter a single word to me.

  It wasn’t until one day at school when some asshole kid decided it was fun to hit a girl when he thought no one was looking that she began to finally notice me. Just like he did to her, but with a little more force, I punched him in the face and broke his nose. I told the douche bag to never touch her again, or I’d break more than his nose. In that instant, everything changed. I got detention for two full weeks, but punching him was worth every second of the punishment because it meant I got the girl. There was nothing I wouldn’t ever do for her.

  Olivia began to see me in a different light. I became her protector and her best friend.

  The years that followed, it was only me and her. She did have a younger sister, but they often got split up in the system. We attended high school and college together. We got married at the tender age of nineteen. We were the perfect couple. I loved her more than the air I breathed.

  Then, when I hit the jackpot with the NHL, something between us changed.

  Fame is something I’ve never been comfortable with. I’ve always kept myself out of the limelight as much as possible, but with Olivia, she embraced it with open arms and quickly fell in love with everything it offered her.

  However, it wasn’t the forever kind of love. It was the kind of love that sucked you in with the promise of the world, but instead, she found herself falling down a drug-induced rabbit hole, the only promise being her next hit or whatever poison she could get her hands on.

  The girl I had fallen in love with became a stranger. The change wasn’t sudden, but eventually, over the years, it became apparent that she began to love my NHL status more than she loved me. She has never admitted it, but in the past two years, she’s chosen to party instead of spending time with me.

  She’s barely home, and when she finally does show her face, she comes back smelling of other men’s cologne, and her eyes are so lit up, it’s a surprise she can even walk straight in her six-inch stilettos.

  I know I sound like a pussy-whipped moron, staying with a woman who checked out of our marriage a long time ago, but when it comes to love, all sense of self-worth tends to go out the window.

  Because I love her.

  She hasn’t always been like this. I mean, she got me to turn my life around when I had nothing. She changed my life for the better, and with her by my side, I stopped hanging out with the dickheads I called friends and focused solely on two things—her and hockey. She was the one who encouraged me to play hockey, and her encouragement is one of the reasons I made it big.

  I’ve often thought, while watching the love of my life circle a path of destruction, that maybe, if I hadn’t pursued a career in the big leagues, or my life wasn’t one road trip after the other, we’d be the couple we once were. Maybe she wouldn�
�t have turned to the vice that broke our marriage in every way possible.

  I only ever wanted to play hockey. I’m celebrating my career today, but I’m left with a bitter taste in my mouth because that same career introduced us to dark corners of the world. It seems I bargained a lot to be where I am today.

  I haven’t just sat back and let this happen. I’ve tried to get her help. I’ve even hauled her ass to rehab on multiple occasions, but junkies excel at avoidance, and if a drug addict doesn’t want to get clean, they simply won’t, no matter how much you beg and plead with them.

  The reason I’ve stayed with her is because a big part of me is still waiting for the moment the girl I fell in love with will walk through the front door and be the wife I’ve always longed for. The wife I’ve missed and craved. I’ve been waiting for her to finally wake up and realize that the only thing she needs in this world to make her happy is me.

  Recently though, I’ve come to the realization this scenario is never going to happen. I was naive to think it ever could.

  I want to start a family, and if I continue to stay in this toxic relationship, I’m afraid that ship will sail, and I will be left with years of regret in front of me. Hell, it’s not even a relationship anymore. I’m simply her husband, and she is my wife, but those titles haven’t meant a thing to Olivia in a long time.

  I’ve always believed in forever, and while I still believe happily ever after can exist, it just isn’t an option for some couples. Especially for me and Olivia.