Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)

by Liz Tomforde

That question gives me pause, because for a moment, my first thought is that I am home. But then I realize she doesn’t mean this version of home, with her in my house.

The box is filled with every mixtape and CD I made for him over the years, each given to him on my birthday. All of them, from ages eleven to nineteen, which include the two I gave him before we started meeting up on the roof, they’re all in here. And it’s evident they’ve been played endlessly over the years. They’re each in their individual cases, which are all cracked in one place or another. Some of the hinges are broken from overuse, from being opened and closed too many times. It suddenly feels impossible to breathe. I cannot believe he kept these. Judging by the look of betrayal on his face the last time I saw him, I assumed the first thing he did was get rid of these. Burned them. Shattered them. Something dramatic to match how hurt he was. But he kept them. The only other thing in this box is an old piece of embroidery thread, which doesn’t really make sense. I pull it out to take a closer look. It’s almost unrecognizable, tattered, discolored, and worn. It takes a moment until it clicks, for me to realize what this is. It’s that old friendship bracelet I made him on my thirteenth birthday. The one he wore on his wrist and never took off until it withered away and fell off on its own sometime after he had left for college. It broke off without him realizing. I assumed it was long gone by now. Something so small. So seemingly unimportant. But it wasn’t. None of it was.

All my best memories. He kept them. He listens to them still. For so long, I held on to every little detail of our relationship, replaying them in my mind on a loop. I cherished the smallest moments we had together. Even at my lowest points, I was grateful that I got to be loved like that at least once in my life. I never forgot him. I never forgot us. And apparently, neither did he.

I’m trying to figure out how I can get some delivered to the house for Hallie to use. Hallie. Always Hallie. That’s where my mind circles back to every time I’m alone and it’s quiet enough to think.

When I think of sex, I think of Hallie. She’s the only name that pops into my mind. Her face, her body, and her voice are the only things I visualize. She was my first. She taught me how to do it. We learned together by learning each other. Six years later, I think it’s safe to assume there will never come a day that I don’t think of Hallie Hart when I think of sex. God, I miss her. I want her back, and I’m done lying about it. To her. To myself.

I’ve never forgotten this girl, not even for a second, and it’s about time she knows that.

Chicago was my clean slate.

“Rio, don’t go there. You’re going to get hurt. You two were kids. Childhood love doesn’t work out the way you want it to. It’s an idealistic fantasy. When you meet that young, you grow up and grow apart. Look at what happened to your dad and me.” “But we’re not you!”

“You have every right to hate me, Hal. You have every right to believe that I forgot about you, but I didn’t. Not one day went by that I didn’t think of you. You were everywhere. In the music I listened to. In the house I live in. I tried to compare every single person I met to you, but there was no comparison. And I will spend the rest of my life regretting leaving you behind all those years ago.”

“I can’t believe you kept them all this time.” “Well, I know that technically, these are your best memories, but they’re mine too. Meeting on that roof, listening to music. Getting the

opportunity to fall in love with you is my best memory, and all I can do is hope that one day you’ll let me do it again.”

“I didn’t tell you something the other night,” I finally blurt out. She lifts a brow in interest. “Well, I didn’t tell you a lot of things, but the biggest one is that even though I am mad at myself, I am so proud of you.” She opens the door fully, leaning on the doorframe to listen. “I am so proud of you for taking care of everything you did these last handful of years. I fucked up. We both know that now, and I am so sorry. I’ll never be able to say that enough. I’d offer to start over with you, but I’m afraid if we do that, you’d end up introducing yourself again and I feel like twice in a lifetime is plenty.”

“And honestly, Hallie, I don’t want to start over with you. I want to accept that we went through some shit, you more than me. We hurt each other, and I made mistakes.” “I did too,”

“And those mistakes changed us in certain ways, but in others, we’ve remained the exact same. It wouldn’t be our story if we ignored all the bad parts, so I’m not going to. I’m not going to run away because where could I go? Hallie, you’re in here.” I tap my chest. “Regardless of the years we spent apart, you’re still in here.”

“Are you sure that’s not just a first-love thing?” “No, baby. It’s a last-love thing.”

My perfect fucking girl. She’s always been my perfect girl.

It might be the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. Untethered. Undone. Mine. And the realization that I may have gotten so lucky that, for the second time in my life, she may actually be mine, has me coming with her. I spill into her while chanting her name like a fucking prayer against her lips. Which is fitting, because she feels like my answered prayer. And as we come down together, I make sure to tell her that.

Mine. Only mine. I’m still processing his confession last night, that he hasn’t been with anyone but me.

And I kind of love that he couldn’t do it.

Not only was Mrs. DeLuca my mom’s best friend, our neighbor, and my boyfriend’s mom, but she was practically my second mother as well. As soon as we moved in next door, she treated me like the daughter she never had.

Every day for the last six years, I’ve regretted not telling Rio sooner, but I equally regret not telling her. I have missed her for as long as I have been missing him.

“Well, they know me and how I feel about you, so whether you like it or not, you’re already part of the group. I’m pretty sure the girls are ready to ban me from girls’ nights in hopes that you’ll start joining instead.” That sounds overwhelmingly lovely. I have craved friendship and community for so many years now. I was a social butterfly before my dad got sick and I’d like to get back to that part of who I am.

“Hallie,” Rio whispers, still dancing slowly with me in his kitchen. “Are we doing this? You and me. Because I’m all in.”

“I’m all in too. It’s you and me.” Again is what I’m tempted to say, but for good feels more accurate.

“But what do you want?” she asks. “You,” I answer quickly. “I just want you.” “But you already have me.” “Then I’m happy.” “I’m happy too.” “Happy birthday, baby.” I sigh. “My favorite day of the year.” Chuckling, she leans her cheek back on my chest as we continue to lie together, listening to her playlist. “Tell me more about our dream house, Hallie.” And she does, while I lie there with a ridiculous smile on my face, listening as she goes into detail and paints a picture of the life we’re about to have.

“So,”

“Girlfriend, huh?” “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you think we should take a couple more decades to get to know each other before I start calling you that?” “I just didn’t know I was, is all.” “I assumed this was another one of our unspoken things.”

“But in case it needs to be said out loud… Yes, Hallie Hart, you are my girlfriend. Though, you should know, there’s a good chance I’ll be changing bot...

Outside of Zee, I learn that Stevie and Indy have known Rio the longest, since they started working on the Raptors’ team plane at the beginning of Rio’s second year in the league. It’s clear how much they care about him. They seem like a pair of older sisters without the intimidating aspect. I don’t even have to ask to know that Indy is his closest friend here, and that Ryan, her husband, loves Rio but won’t admit it out loud. The Rhodes families met him a couple years later, rounding out these five athletes and their wives who formed this unique little friendship group. But it’s wild to me that Rio met Kai and Isaiah last because every time Isaiah opens his mouth, I can’t get over how similar it sounds to some of the goofy things I’ve heard Rio say over the years.

The way they all speak about him—highly, while still giving him a bit of shit—makes it so clear how loved he is by these people. They seem like the definition of his people. Like they’d do anything for him. I understand that sentiment all too well.

This man has no shame, acting like a love-sick idiot on the ice with twenty thousand fans watching him. But I’m a love-sick idiot too, so I somewhat discreetly make the same heart, our heart, with my hands for him to see. That smile on his lips only grows before he skates back to the bench, grabs his gloves and helmet, and refocuses on warming up. “That boy is so in love with you,” Indy states. Spoken or unspoken, I feel the exact same way.

I’ll choose Hallie every time. I just hope my own mother doesn’t put me in that situation. And then there’s Boston. Because yeah, I think that’s happening.

This is her dream home, and that’s the whole fucking point. I don’t know how she hasn’t put the pieces together yet, but that’s the final and most important reason why I won’t sell. Six years ago, even after things fell apart between us, I bought this house for her. It’s everything she told me she wanted, and there was a part of me that hoped if both it and I were here waiting for her, she’d somehow find her way home.

“So, you flipped the numbers?” Miller guesses. “Not exactly. I didn’t know what number to choose when I was a kid, so I picked the number of my favorite day, which was, of course, my birthday. August third. Eighty-three.”

“When I got to training camp in Chicago, they asked me if I wanted to keep eighty-three, but I decided it was time to change it to my actual favorite day.”

My birthday. March eighth. Thirty-eight.

“I think we both know it’s a little deeper than that, even if we’re still pretending it’s one of those unspoken things.” He turns to press a quick kiss to my lips. “And I have for fifteen years, Hal. You’ve had me hooked since the day you became the girl next door.”

This is going to devastate him. His parents’ marriage is everything to him. It’s the foundation on which he’s built his own ideas of what love looks like.

“You were coming home early for my birthday?” she asks. “Hell yeah, I was. It’s my favorite day of the year.”

It feels like déjà vu without one specific memory to tie it to. Her in my childhood room, wearing my high school team sweatshirt. Shit, just her being in Boston again feels nostalgic. Where it all started. I spent six years missing a huge piece of who I am because that’s how integral she is in my life. That’s how embedded she is in the fabric that makes me me. I’ve heard the claim that you don’t know what you’ve got until you’ve lost it, but I knew what I had. It made losing us that much more unbearable. Those six years were their own kind of torture, and it would’ve made it a hell of a lot easier to go through if I knew this was the outcome. Me and her, for good. I’d rewind and relive every goddamn moment.

“I thought it was another one of those unspoken things.” Reaching up, she wraps her arms around my neck. “But it shouldn’t be. It should be said as much as possible. Because I love you, Rio. I have loved you since we were children, and I will love you until we’re old and gray. But if you didn’t already know that, then I’ve been doing something wrong.” My smile only expands. “I know you love me, baby, and you know I love you. I haven’t stopped loving you.” “Not once,”

It’s the most peace I’ve ever felt, Hallie coming back into my life. To know that I’m loved, long before hearing the words again. To feel it in every fiber of my being. To see it in the way she looks at me. To hear it in the way she speaks to and about me. We are rare. What we have is rare and I’m going to spend the rest of my life protecting it. “I love you, Hallie Hart. Spoken or unspoken, I’ve always loved you.”

“This is the song I was listening to in the locker room right before I went out to play the game where I saw you for the first time again.”

“Exactly. I want to rewind all of it, Hallie. I want to remember everything. You made sure we could remember our first years together, so I made sure we would remember this one.”

“I asked team management to not make the announcement until next week. I’ve been planning to tell you like this. Listening to our important moments together. On your birthday. On the roof. Only, I didn’t know it’d work out so perfectly that we’d end up back on this roof.”

“You’re my childhood dream.”

“If it’s about me staying in Chicago, I don’t have to. I can come with you. I don’t want you to give up the chance to play for your hometown team for me.” “Playing for Chicago feels like I’m playing for my hometown because it is my home now. You’re my home. Being loved by you for the rest of my life is the only dream of mine that’s never wavered. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m already exactly where I want to be.”

“You’re staying.” “I’m staying, baby. But I’ve got to say, if we ever do decide to move, we need to pick a warmer place to live if we’re going to keep sitting on the roof in fucking March. It’s freezing right now, and I know the roof of our home in Chicago is just as cold.”

“Our home?” “Our home.” Sliding my palms up her thighs, I pull her tighter against me. “I thought you would’ve realized it the first time you came over. Hallie, the irony of hiring you to design the house is that you’re the person I bought it for.”

“How lucky am I to have been loved by you for fifteen years now?”