“Don’t be.” He jabs my side. “This one’s fault. You had an incredible game. You better not be letting him take all the credit for it.”
Lennon suppresses a grin and says, “Oh trust me, I’m not.”
Our last conversation flashes through my head like a nightmare. When she asked me if I was jealous, I don’t know what I was more angry at: the fact that she had the audacity to ask me that, or the fact that I am?
Was.
Was jealous.
Not anymore. I’ve smothered that stupid, stupid part of my brain over the last week we’ve spent apart for the holidays.
I can admit I was a dick to her in that moment, and by the hint of malice in her eye every time she looks at me, I know she’s still pissed. But that’s better than the way she was starting to look at me. It had to be shut down.
“You guys better get out and skate before Alice just sees you chatting away,” I tell the two of them. I don’t wait to see if they listen. Grabbing Seb’s arm, I push off the boards and continue with our laps.
We chat while we skate, and it feels good to spend some one-on-one time with him. We used to double date any chance we could when I was married, but since the incident and divorce, it’s rare to spend more than a dinner together every few months.
Sebastian spots a couple parents of kids from his team and excuses himself to go talk with them for a bit. I decide to take a break and sit on the bench, which we’ve kept blocked off to keep people from going in for the day.
The smell of ice as it’s carved up by blades is almost meditative as I lean back and observe. Gleeful shrieks and a few cries echo around the rink as kids chase each other or fall down and need their parents help getting back up.
Lennon whizzes by, a squealing little girl between her legs as they pick up speed. They both laugh and the little girl clings to Lennon’s hands with pink mittens. Lennon says something to her I don’t catch, but the little girl nods eagerly, and Lennon easily lifts her up and spins her around. Her dark hair flows in the air underneath her black beanie, and the little girl kicks her skates excitedly.
They both look so happy, so free, and I wonder what it’s like to feel that kind of joy without restraint. Everyone around here looks to be having the time of their lives, and there’s this odd sort of disconnect for me. I try to think back on the last time I ever felt truly happy, and all the memories that come forward are hockey related.
Have I always been so blinded by my love for the sport, that I never tried to find any sense of fun in any other aspects of my life? The realization is sort of…sad.
Lennon sets her down once more and continues on, making another few laps with the girl before her mom pulls her from the ice. But Lennon isn’t allowed even a moment to catch her breath before a little boy approaches her on wobbly legs. She kneels down to his level, talking to him for a moment, before she stands and takes his hand. Together, they make slow progress on the rink, but Lennon doesn’t show a hint of impatience.
She’s effortlessly connecting with the kids. No wonder Alice asked her to be one of the team representatives for the event. They flock to her and follow her around like little ducklings as she skates lap after lap, never stopping to take a break. It stirs something inside me I don’t want to acknowledge. Pricks at feelings I’m constantly burying in cement.
But it’s not just my own fucked up feelings for my athlete that the sight is stirring up. Seeing her with kids, seeing all the families here, it makes me think of what I almost had but gave up with Elle. She had been ready for a baby shortly after signing our marriage license. I get it. At that point, we had already been together for years.
But I wasn’t there. Mentally or physically. I know a lot of the guys in the league have families and make it work, but hockey was my first love. My number one priority. And even though Elle was content with being second to that, it still made me feel like shit. Add in a baby?
I didn’t want to put that burden on her, or myself.
There are very few things I regret in life, but wasting so many years of Elle’s life is one of them. The divorce, though? That was a mercy kill for her. And hopefully she’s come to understand that over the past few years.
I could still be married, maybe have a kid of my own with her, and we could be one of the families here at the skate. I would’ve traded in my car for an SUV, have a house instead of an apartment, and a wife instead of an ex.
But maybe I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Just like Lennon said.
24
Luke
God, I hate wearing a fucking tie. This thing feels like it’s trying to squeeze the life force right out of me. I had to dust off this suit after hanging in the back of my closet for years. Thank fuck it still fits like a glove, although the material feels staunch and stiff.
Or maybe that’s just a result of standing in a ballroom full of similarly dressed people, schmoozing and conversing over expensive champagne and hor d’oeuvres that I’m convinced everyone is lying about actually liking. What’s wrong with a slider or a Swedish meatball on a stick?
“Whiskey, please,” I tell the bartender and drop a twenty in the tip jar. He slides my drink over moments later, and I accept it with a nod. This guy is about to be my best friend tonight.
“Not your typical scene?” Jenna’s voice comes from my right, and I turn to find her dressed in a simple black gown. It complements the lightness of her hair, although it’s a fairly understated look for what I would’ve expected of her.
“Nope.” I take a long drink. “What gave me away?”
