I’ve played on teams I didn’t like,I admit.Where the locker room felt like a war zone, and it was every man for himself.When I first started taking my mental health seriously, there were a few players who called me weak, didn’t understand the seriousness of what I was going through.Being a professional athlete is awesome, but it comes with its downsides too.Pressure being one of them and the one I struggle with the most.I left my last team because they didn’t support me, or back me up, when I was going through a rough patch.They benched me and made it no secret that they were looking to trade me.That was my breaking point, and I knew I deserved better.I’m just lucky Toronto saw something in me.
That’s great.
It is,I say quietly.
She watches me for a long second.You look…different when you talk about hockey.
Different how?
Lighter,she says.Your whole face brightens.
That’s because hockey is easier than real life,I say before I can filter it.On the ice, the rules are clear.
Her expression softens.You sound like you’ve thought about that before.
Once or twice.
We lapse into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by Joey’s occasional laughs at the screen and the scrape of utensils against plastic.
I’m sorrysuddenly bursts out of her.I must look as shocked as she feels because her eyes are wide.
About what exactly?I ask hesitantly.
She licks her dry lips and takes a short, quick breath.I’m sorry for not texting you back.
Ah,I say, thrilled that she’s the one bringing this up.
It’s a shitty excuse,she begins,but I got too in my head about who you are and how we met.I thought, maybe, you asked for my number because you felt pressured, or maybe you were taking pity on a single mom.I open my mouth, needing to tell her that’s not the case, but she cuts me off.I know now that’s not the reason.Truly, I do.I’m just…I’m just not used to people wanting to be in my life.
And me texting every day for almost two weeks wasn’t an indication that I wanted to be part of your life?Even in some small way?
She gives me a grimace, her cheeks going even redder.I was coming around to that conclusion right before I got sick, and then…well, you know.
Something in my chest loosens when she says it out loud.Not because I’m glad she doubted me—God, no—but because she trusted me enough to let me see the mess behind the silence.This wasn’t disinterest or her playing games with me.This was fear.
The idea that she looked at me—at what could be building between us—and assumed pity instead of want makes my stomach twist.Not because my ego’s bruised, but because someone once convinced her she wasn’t an obvious choice.
And yet there’s relief threaded through the anger.She didn’t pull away because she didn’t feel something.She pulled away because she felt too much.Because connection sends her spiralling into what ifs and worst-case endings.
I recognize it instantly—the overthinking, the self-protection masquerading as logic.It’s the same voice that once told me to muscle through my anxiety instead of naming it, the one that said if I ignored it long enough, it would stop costing me things I loved.It didn’t.And neither will hers, not if she keeps carrying it alone.
What gets me most, though, is that she’s here now.Apologizing.Explaining.Letting me stand in this space with her instead of shutting the door quietly and locking it behind her.I don’t feel frustrated.I feel honoured.And fiercely protective.Because if a few unanswered texts can send her this far into her head, then I want to be the steady thing that proves she doesn’t have to disappear when it gets loud in there.I don’t want her to doubt whether she’s wanted.I want her to know, without question, that I’m here because I choose to be.Every single day.
I reach for her hand, quickly giving it a squeeze before letting it go.
I appreciate you telling me that, Eddie.And I’m happy you understand now that I’m here.I’m in this because I feel a real connection to you.I want to get to know you and see what happens.
I know that.Now,she chuckles, low and hoarse.
Good.
What’s that thing in the bag?Joey suddenly asks from his spot on the floor.I’d forgotten he was so close.
Umm, oh.That’s a humidifier.
Did you have one already?Eddie asks with suspicion in her voice.I don’t want to lie to her, so I pretend I didn’t hear her and stand to grab the new device for her.
You looked up pneumonia care, didn’t you,she accuses head to her room, ready to set it up, her voice sounding worse after talking so much tonight.
