I’m screaming and clapping before it registers. I stop abruptly and look to Ruby. “Did he just say Walsh?”
I whip my head forward to watch Travis skate out from the bench. He has his back to me and am I seeing things or does my husband have my name on the back of his jersey? No, not just my name. Both of our names.Bennett-Walsh. It’s so long it barely fits across his back.
“You stubborn, beautiful man.” I blink away the tears and rejoin the rest of the arena cheering for him.
Travis reaches the center of the ice with his teammates, lifts his left hand to his mouth and then points to me.
“Wow, maybe I did pick the wrong hockey player.” Ruby laughs and then leans her head over to mine. “That might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Nick’s dad leans forward to look at me. “You got a real good one.”
That I do.
It’s a close game with a lot of back and forth in the first period but no score from either team. In the second, Travis puts in a rebound to score the first goal.
The announcer once again yells his name for all the arena, “Traaaaavis Bennett-Waaalsh!”
“I don’t think I’m ever getting used to that.” I laugh and clap along with Ruby.
On his next shift, Travis steals the puck and breaks away to the other end. I’m staring at him and not the defender coming up behind him, but I see the stick hook his skate and Travis flies forward to an “oooo” from the crowd.
The whistle blows to stop the game. Travis gets to his feet quickly, but there’s blood on the ice, and it’s dripping from his face as he skates for the bench. Instead of fixing him up there, the trainer immediately takes him back toward the locker rooms and out of view.
“Oh my god.” Panic courses through me. I look to Ruby for help.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” she says, but her eyes are big and wide.
“I need to get down there. Do you think they’ll let me see him?”
“Maybe.”
Her answer doesn’t really matter because I’m already standing and starting up to the steps to the hallway. I jog to the stairway and then down to the tunnel where the locker rooms and family area is. It’s quiet back here during the game, and I don’t run into a single person until I peer into the locker room and spot Travis.
He has his back to me, but he’s standing and in one piece.
I run and wrap my arms around him from behind.
He screeches and whips around. His dark eyes are wide as his stare lands on me.
“Shit. You scared me. I’ve been listening to too many of those podcasts Wren sends me.” He looks me over. “What are you doing here?”
“I scared you?! You just bled all over the ice.”
“I’m fine.” He rubs the spot above his eyebrow that’s now covered with a butterfly bandage. “How’d you get back here?”
“I’m small and sneaky,” I say proudly.
A man walks into the room, but if he’s at all surprised by my presence, he doesn’t show it. He hands Travis a new jersey. “Here you go. Two minutes until the end of the period. Coach said to hang here until intermission if you want.”
“Thanks, Ron.” Travis pulls on the new jersey over his pads, flashing the back in the process.
“Travis. Love of my life. Why is my last name on the back of your jersey?”
His grin is all cocky charm. “You mean my last name?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” I arch one brow.
“I changed it.”
