“What is it? You’re scaring me?” I joke, though, it’s not really a joke. Like, what is up with him right now?
“I still owe you that truth?” He phrases it as a question rather than a statement.
My eyebrows furrow. It’s like there’s something that he wants to get off his chest. I nod. Until I realise, he’s not watching me. So, I whisper, “Yes.”
“Everyone always says how lucky I am.” His voice is jagged as he speaks. Almost as if he’s choking the words out. I stay silent to encourage him to continue. “You know, most guys would kill to be where I am in life. In the NHL. Team captain, my name in lights. A career people could only dream of having. But no one understands how quickly that could all be taken away. How quickly the rug can be pulled from beneath your feet.
“Your shoulder?” I speak softly, as though not to startle him. He needs to get this out.
He nods roughly, turning his head so our eyes meet. He looks so pained. I just wish I could take it away.
“It should have just been another hit. It should have just been a bruise. I’ve been taking hits worse than that for as long as I can remember. But nothing compares to when you feel your body betray you. When you know that something’s gone horribly wrong.” He lets out a shaky sigh. “The feeling of the pop, the tear. The feeling of something letting go. And you just know it’s probably all over.”
“Levi…” I whisper, trailing off. I’m at a loss for words. I had no idea exactly how much inner turmoil he’s been going through. I almost feel like an ass. Almost.
He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s not even the worst of it. My dad just keeps telling me to be a man. Don’t quit. Don’t let them see you when you’re down and in pain, you just gotta keep moving. He pushed me so hard growing up. With him notmaking it to the NHL when he was coming out of college, he channelled all of that into me. Part of me is grateful for how far I’ve gotten in life because of it, but sometimes I just wish he showed us even the smallest bit of love. He hasn’t even reached out since the injury. It’s been weeks. How has he not reached out? Does he care that little about his own son?”
By the time those last words come out, he’s out of breath. One look into his eyes and shit. He’s not in a good way.
“I pretend I’m fine, but I’m so damn tired, Scar. I am so tired.”
I gaze into his blue eyes, looking deeper than I ever had before to notice the underlying sadness that I hadn’t picked up on before. How have I not seen how much he’s been struggling?
I reach out, cupping his jaw in my hand and stroking my thumb along his cheekbone. “You can let down your guard here, Levi. It’s just you and me. Let me help you as much as I can.” I whisper, my heart feeling heavy for the man in front of me.
“You’re the only person I’ve told about any of this.” He mumbles, his gaze drifting down to my lips before back up to meet my eyes.
“Then let me help you carry it.” I say simply. The silence stretches again, my hand still resting against his cheek. I should remove it, but I don’t want to.
I decide to grace his honesty with my own. I think he needs that, and I think that kind of bond could be good for us and our relationship. “Everyone keeps asking me when I’m going to go home. My friends, my family. Everyone I know thinks I’ve made such a mistake by picking things up and leaving. It’s been a lifelong dream to move to America and when things fell apart with my ex, I just decided that it was the right time. So I booked my flights and never looked back.” I blow out a breath. “I just had to leave, I felt as though I was being suffocated there. I needed this change.”
A softness overtakes his expression.
I let out a shaky laugh, uncomfortable with Levi being so tender. “Maybe getting stuck up here today wasn’t such a bad thing," I joke.
Levi opens his mouth to speak but the groan of the machine starting back up again interrupts him. We straighten back up as we start moving back toward the ground.
I feel something brush my hand only to look down and see Levi intertwining his pinky with my own making my heart stutter.
Tonight something shifted with us – an unspoken truce, our walls having come crashing down around us. It should feel like progress… but instead I’m wondering if we just opened a door that neither of us should even consider walking through.
…
The drive back to the house was silent. The air was thick and heavy, the confessions from earlier lying between us.
I unlock the door feeling the heat of Levi’s body close behind making me slightly breathless.
The quiet hits harder as we step inside. No noise from the carnival, no flashing lights – no distractions.
I toe off my shoes, pretending as though I’m completely unaffected. Continuing to move through the dark house, I break the deafening silence. “Do you want some water?”
Opening the fridge, I grab a couple bottles of water before turning around only to stop where I am because of how he’s looking at me. No, watching me. His gaze sends goosebumps across my skin.
“Uh– water?” I repeat, shifting uncomfortably under the intensity of his stare.
His head nods slightly so I move toward him, reaching out to hand him the drink, his fingertips brushing my own as he wraps his hand around the bottle.
I twist the cap open, taking a sip before I raise an eyebrow at him. “You good, Carter?”
