The words land like blows.How long isa whilein her mind?What the fuck doestemporarilymean in the grand scheme of things?I hate it, hate every word that came out of her mouth.But I take them.
This isn’t your fault,I say.This is on me.On my world.It followed me into yours.I’m going to fix that.
You can’t fix the internet, Sidney,she whispers.You can’t fix my family.
No.But I can decide how I show up in this.
She doesn’t respond.
I’m going to give you a little space,I say quietly.Because you’re scared, and I get it.But I’m not letting you go.
Sidney—
I mean it.We’ll talk soon.
I hang up before I can say something that I’d maybe regret in the future.I don’t want to silence her voice or her concerns, but I also won’t let her just back away from the fight.
I love her.I love Joey.And I will fight to keep them by my side, no matter the odds.
The rage comes back, thick and hot.I grab my keys and head for the rink.
Max and Coach are waiting in a conference room with the team PR head when I arrive.A laptop is open on the table, headlines glowing like accusations.
Okay,PR says.We need to get in front of this before it gets worse.
It’s the first time in my career thatmy personal lifeandteam strategyended up in the same sentence.I sit down, and I listen, hearing everything they have to say.And while they talk, a plan begins to form in my head.
If Eddie thinks this attention is going to make me disappear, she doesn’t know me at all.
I save things for a living.
And I am going to save my future with Eddie.Even if it means taking a couple of hits.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SIDNEY
The next week felt wrong.So goddamn wrong.
The locker room was the same.The drills were the same.The arenas, the ice, the roar of the crowd, and the post-game interviews—it all melted together in sameness.
Yet at the same time, everything felt slightly off axis, like I’d shifted half an inch to the left and the world hadn’t caught up yet.
It was all because Eddie wasn’t a part of my days.
I had given her three days of silence, thinking it was enough time for her to see that my PR team was working miracles and changing the narrative, and come back to me.I thought she’d text me, at least, respond to my messages.
But we were back to radio silence.
I’d resorted to calling her and leaving voice messages.Borderline pleading with her to call or text me back.Show me proof of life.
Nothing.
Then, almost a week and a half after our world blew up, she contacted me.
It came on a Thursday night.We’d just finished a home game.Solid win.The crowd was happy.Coaches were happy.Stats looked good.
I didn’t care.What I cared about was the text waiting on my phone in my locker.
