I laugh again, softer this time. “Thanks.”
Her fingers brush mine for a second longer before she lets go. The contact makes my chest ache in a different way.
“How are you doing otherwise?” she asks.
I hesitate before answering. “It’s weird. The light is starting to hurt my eyes. Not in a sharp way, more like—” I pause, trying to put words to the feeling. “I notice differences in the shadows. Different shades in the spots where the light comes in. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
“That’s something, Teddy. It means your brain and your eyes are still talking to each other, even if it’s only whispers right now.”
I know she’s right, but I’m more annoyed than pleased. “Couldn’t it be a good thing instead of something that hurts?”
“What feels bad right now, could feel better in a week or two. Give it time,” she tells me. “May I open the window for a bit? Fresh air will do you good.”
I nod. The curtains rustle as she moves them, a gust of wind coming in after a creak.
“I’ll come back later after checking in on other patients.”
“I’d like that.”
When the door clicks shut behind her, the room feels empty, but it’s not hollow anymore. All because she’ll be coming back.
Thank fuck.
Not long after Ivy leaves, the silence presses in again. I don’t want it. Not now. Not after the commentary outside my room the other day and the way it hollowed me out. My fingers fumble for my phone on the side table. It takes a couple tries, but I get it in my hands.
“Hey Siri,” I rasp. “Call Captain.”
“Calling Captain mobile.”
The line clicks, and his surprised voice fills the space. “Teddy?”
Relief punches through me harder than I expected. “Yeah, it’s me, Cap.”
“Holy shit, man, it’s so damn good to hear your voice. How are you holding up?”
“I’ve been better,” I admit with a humorless snort. “How’s Jessi? And the kids?”
“They’re great,” Jensen replies, a smile audible in his tone. “Jessi sends her love. Anya’s been practicing her figure skating routine every afternoon after school. Austen’s still obsessed with dinosaurs. He stomped around yesterday pretending to be a T-Rex and knocked over the lamp.”
A soft laugh escapes me. “Sounds like him. Tell the kiddos I miss them.”
“They miss their Uncle Teddy, too.”
The words cut straight through me. I miss them and everything else in our world—the chaos of the locker room, the calming sound when my blades meet the ice, and the kids holding up crooked signs with my name and number scrawled in Sharpie. I’ve fucked up more than I can count, but making kids want to lace up skates…that’s the one thing I never got wrong. Jensen’s son, Austen, tells anyone who’ll listen he’s going to be like me one day, to his dad’s chagrin.
“I couldn’t be prouder of such a title.” My fingers flex against the sheets, preparing for the question I want to ask. “Is the asshole still playing?”
“He’s been benched since that evening as the investigation is underway. Word is, the League is finally taking action against Farrington.” My heart kicks into overdrive hearing that name. “There have been complaints stacking up for years, but your hit was the final straw. Both Chandler Montrose of the Woodpeckers and Jeremy Lavigne of the Peacocks submitted formal reports within seventy-two hours. Twenty other GMs backed them so far. They want him gone for good. He’ll be officially out by next week with an extended suspension at minimum, most likely a lifetime ban. No one wants to be the team that shelters him. Even Toronto’s management washed their hands of him.”
“Should’ve happened a long time ago,” I say, pressing my palms against my eyes. Fucking hell, I don’t want to cry because of that asshole.
“I agree. What he did to you…it was ruthless.”
“Him being kicked out won’t bring my sight back.”
“Fuck,” comes his short reply. There’s a pause, his voice softening. “So it’s true then? About your eyes? There have been rumors circling in the media, but I didn’t want to believe what they said.”
“Yeah. I’m slowly seeing some shifts in shadows, but nothing else has changed since I woke up. Well, the light is starting to annoy me, even if I can’t really see it beyond vague shadows.” Saying it aloud feels like ripping open a wound that never stopsbleeding. “They’re still running tests and we have to wait for the final diagnosis.”
