Shit.
Zaan is going to be pissed if he finds out before I can tell him.
And no one is going to be more upset than me if something happens to the baby.
Oh fuck.
I’m going to cry.
Chapter Thirteen
Zaan
* * *
After the comeback win of the season, we were on the plane back to Vegas when I saw the first video.
What. The. Fuck.
I stare at Lexi.
Vaulting herself off the stage.
The crowd catching her.
Two guys subsequently letting her fall.
Jonny Gold rushing in to grab her and carry her backstage.
I’m not jealous.
I’m thankful he was there—but where the hell was security?
And why did she do it in the first place?
I’m terrified, hurt, and angry.
Terrified that she’s more injured than she’s letting on. Because I know my wife. If she can put on a show of being fine, she will.
Hurt that she’s been shutting me out and didn’t even send me a text to let me know she’s okay.
Angry that she would put herself—and our baby—at risk like that.
I’m beyond frustrated by the time we land. Thankfully, the rest of the team seems too self-absorbed to have noticed, so I’m able to head home without anyone asking me questions.
Because I don’t have any fucking answers.
It’s the middle of the night. The team opted to fly home instead of staying in Seattle, and Coach canceled practice today, but there’s no way I’m going to sleep.
It’s four in the morning.
I should be dead on my feet, but all I can do is stare at the ceiling.
Hold my phone and imagine the million texts I want to send.
Finally, I type one out because I won’t be able to rest until I do.
ZAAN: I hope you’re okay. Please call when you wake up.
