I tried not to cry as I loaded our bags into the back of the car that Devan had given me. I’d have to give it back eventually; it didn’t feel right taking things from them when I couldn’t give them what they actually wanted. Or maybe they’d be relieved that I was gone. They could go back to their carefree lives.

I wouldn’t keep them from Huey. We could share custody of him, because he might be a baby but he loved those men. He’d lost enough people in his short life.

I was going to stay at Julieta’s for a couple of nights until I found somewhere for me and Huey to stay, or if I couldn’t find a place to rent, I’d go and stay with Chloe. I could go home, back to Tucson, but the idea of leaving was a physical ache in my soul. Hurrying to click Huey into his car seat, I left the place I’d considered a home as fast as I could. Pulling dark glasses over my eyes, I peeled out of the driveway and away from the photographers that I knew were still there, lurking in the bushes.

As tears streamed down my face, I told myself this was for the best. A small hurt now to prevent a bigger hurt later. This was for the best for all of us. There was no way what we were trying to create would have worked. There were too many outside pressures. The very idea was foolish and utopian. It could never work in the real world.

I repeated that thought process until I drove up to Julieta’s house, stepping out of my car and into the tiny woman’s strong arms.

And then I cried.

I’d left them a note, but it hadn’t helped. They blew up my phone until I turned it off. I’d asked Clint about Rigby, and he said the NHL had given him a three-match ban without pay, which was apparently pretty expensive.

I felt fucking awful. I knew it wasn’t my fault, because Rigby was a grown man who made his own decisions, but he was also fiercely loyal. If I hadn’t reacted so damn bad, we could have laughed this shit off and gotten over it. But no, I had to be all sensitive.

On the third day of me being gone, during which I searched for real estate in Ann Arbor with growing despair, River appeared on Julieta and Clint’s doorstep. I hid in the kitchen like a fucking chickenshit.

“You’ve got to let me see her, Muss.”

I felt bad for Clint and Julieta. I needed to get out of their hair before I permanently ruined their friendship with the guys.