Istand outsidethe door to Gray’s condo, just like I did three weeks ago when I came to visit.Back then, Maddie had opened it and led me to the bedroom where Gray was waiting.He’d been frail but alive.Breathing.Smiling at me through the pain.
Now, he’s gone.
The call came earlier today, no more than half an hour after the team plane landed in Boston.We’re in the middle of a week-long road trip, which started off with that amazing win last night against the Phantoms.
I saw her number on my screen, and I just knew.I was sitting next to Lucky on the bus from the airport to the team hotel, and I’d muttered under my breath, “Fuck.”
Lucky looked at me with concern but remained silent as I answered.It was the worst fucking call of my life.Maddie’s voice breaking when she told me he’d passed, and even though we’d known it was coming, it hit like a cross-check to the ribs.
The last few hours have been a blur.Not long after the bus reached the team hotel, I called an Uber to take me back to the airport so I could fly to Chicago.Our GM, Callum Derringer, knew about Gray and knew I’d be getting this call.Hard choices will have to be made given that we are in the last week of regular season play and the first round of the playoffs start next week.
But Callum didn’t hesitate when I asked to go to Chicago, and part of that is because we’ve clinched the top seed, so I’m not overly crucial to the games we have left.He told me to take the time I needed and to not worry about these last two matchups.Technically, I don’t have to be back to Pittsburgh for five days, but no amount of cleared schedule makes this any easier.
I knock softly on the door.After a few moments, it opens and Maddie is there.She has Grayce perched on her hip and I’m shocked by the relief that flickers through me to find her holding the baby.That means I don’t have to attempt an impossibly awkward hug because warm and fuzzy has never been our thing.I don’t know if we’ve ever touched outside of a quick handshake when we first met years ago.
But what stops me cold is the look on her face.Misery—raw and unfiltered.It matches my own pain, buried somewhere behind the armor I wear on and off the ice.
She steps back, wordless, a silent invitation, and I follow her into the living room.She lowers herself onto the couch with Grayce, who babbles happily and grabs at Maddie’s hair.
The innocence in it fucking stings.She has no idea her whole world has shifted.She has no idea what she’s lost.
Maddie stares at Grayce, holding her tiny hands and making silly noises at her.She completely ignores me.
“You okay?”I finally ask, the words heavy and inadequate.
Her head shakes.“No,” she whispers, eyes on the baby, which is shocking that she’d admit such a vulnerability.Maddie is all walled off behind layers of emotion-suppressing concrete.Then, after a beat, she glances up at me.“How about you?”
“I feel like nothing will ever be the same,” I admit.My own honesty surprises me, but what’s the point in lying?And truthfully, I probably won’t ever see this woman again after this visit.
Silence stretches between us, thick and awkward, broken only by Grayce’s baby chatter.
Finally, I find the courage to ask, “How… did it…” The words stick in my throat.
“How did it happen?”she asks bluntly, blue eyes flashing with ire briefly before turning back to Grayce, who grabs one of Maddie’s hoop earrings.She gently untangles the baby’s little fingers and I think she might ignore the question, but her soft voice drifts across the space between us.“I don’t know how it happened.I went in to give him medicine, and he was so still.I just knew he was gone.He looked so peaceful and I should have been grateful for that, but I wasn’t.I was angry that he was taken from me.”
And me, I think, but I know that’s not what Maddie wants or needs to hear.“What’s going to happen with the funeral?”
“There won’t be one,” Maddie says, her tone flat.“Gray didn’t want one.Said there was no one important enough to justify the expense or the effort.Maybe a few coworkers, but”—her eyes come to mine—“the only ones who mattered to him were me, you and Grayce.”
That decision doesn’t shock me.Gray had no family left, not really.Just the three people sitting in this room, and while he had a handful of casual friends and coworkers he liked well enough, the truth was, after he became a dad, those relationships sort of languished as he focused all his energy on his daughter.
“He left a letter.”Maddie stands Grayce up with her little feet propped on her thighs.“Said he wanted both of us to read it together after he was gone.”
That feels ominous.“A letter?”
“Yeah… it’s this piece of paper where people write their thoughts down and then we—”
“I know what a letter is,” I grumble.
“Good,” she says and pushes up off the couch.She walks my way and hands the baby to me.“Hold her while I get it.”
I freeze.“What?”
“Hold Grayce,” she says.“It’s in his safe and I need both hands.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I stammer, my palms outward as if to ward her off.Grayce merely gurgles and kicks her feet in her one-piece pajama outfit with panda bears on it.
“For fuck’s sake, Atlas,” Maddie snaps and actually shoves the kid into my arms.“She won’t bite.I mean, you’ve held her before.”
