He doesn’t say anything more to me, he just nods his head as he steps away. I get dressed, the locker room is buzzing as it usually is for a Saturday night home game. We play during the week also, but Saturday games just hit differently. I put on my chest protector, tying the sides before sitting and lacing up my skates. “Going on the five-game winning streak,” Jaxon says to the room, “let’s not fuck it up.”
I grab my jersey, putting it on over my head and fixing the sleeves as I walk out of the room and head to the ice for the pregame skate. I grab my stick and see that some of the guys are already on the ice. I skate on and look around the boards to see if the kids are here when I see her first. She is standing two rows behind my kids, her head to the side as she talks to Lexi beside her. Her hand is in front of her mouth so no one can see what she is saying. I don’t even know how I skate up to the glass. “Daddy!” Nora shouts, jumping up and down, and I look over her head to catch Kylie’s eyes.
She avoids looking my way, even when Vincent goes up to her, holding up a puck that Kirby shot over the glass. She smiles at him and laughs at whatever he says as he holds up his hand, and the two of them do their handshake. I swallow down the lump, feeling rage now course through me.
I toss a puck over the glass and see Nora get it, and then I skate off the ice. I should be able to shut it off. I should be able to come out here and do my fucking job. After warmups, the minute I skate back onto the ice, I go to center ice and look at the guy in front of me. “Hey.” He motions with his chin and I do the same. I avoid looking up into the suite, where I know they are watching, instead I get down and look over at the referee, who holds the puck in his hand.
“Nothing better than Saturday night hockey,” he says. “Let’s keep it clean.”
He drops the puck and my stick comes out to knock it back, but I lose the face-off and have to follow them into the zone. I feel like I’m two seconds behind everyone in every single play. After the first period, Kirby sits beside me. “Head in the game.”
“Fuck off,” I tell him and he just gets up and walks back to his seat. We start the third period trailing two to one.
I’m on the bench watching the game but not watching the game. Frustrated with myself that I can’t get my fucking mind off her. Coach calls my name for my line, and I get up, swing over the bench, and get onto the ice. Kirby takes the puck and passes it to Lane, who skates down the middle. I skate with him and the whistle blows as soon as he skates into the zone. The side referee points to me and says, “Offside.”
I put my head back as Lane swears at me, “What the fuck is up with you?”
I shake my head, going to the side for the face-off. I’m zero for five tonight and it’s safe to say this is going to be the worst game I’ve ever played. We backtrack to our zone and I follow behind, waiting at the blue line for them to pass me the puck. Kirby tries to clear the puck but I’m too slow to intercept it, and the guy takes a shot on the net. Luckily, it’s saved and the play is dead.
We do a line change and when there are three minutes to go, we pull the goalie and Coach taps my shoulder, and I get on there so we can play six on five. I skate into the zone, my eyes on the puck. I move to the net, watching Kirby pass the puck to Jaxon and then pass it again. Jaxon shoots the puck and I watch it bounce off the goalie’s pad and I put my stick down and try to tip it in. The goalie puts his glove over the puck, but I give him two more shots with my stick. The defenseman on the other team pushes me away from him, and I don’t even know what comes over me. I push him back and then move my hand back to punch him in the face. The whistle blows three times, and the referees now come over to try and break up the skirmish that is happening in front of the net. Jaxon is pushing me away from the guys while Kirby is standing, making sure no one comes for me.
The referee goes to the middle of the ice. “Number six” he says my name, “two minutes for roughing.” I shake my head and head to the penalty box, slamming the door and sitting down. I look up and see there are two minutes and forty seconds left. I take off my gloves, placing them on the side as I watch my team go out there and play five on four. Now that the goalie is back in the net.
It takes the other team forty-five seconds before they score the goal, and I grab my gloves and skate out of the box, past the celebration of the other team and straight to the bench. I don’t even bother sitting, I just head to the back, where I whip my stick against the wall. No one says a word in the locker room. No one fucking needs to, I know I let my whole fucking team down. I get dressed and head up to the suite, my heart beating faster when I know I’m going to see her.
I open the door and step in, my eyes doing a sweep of the room and spotting my kids with Tessa on the side of the room. “Daddy,” Nora says, coming over to me, “you went into the bad boy box,” I nod at her, “and then you lost.”
“I did,” I say, looking around again. Spotting Lexi in the corner with Ariella, I know if Kylie were here that is where she would be. “Let’s get out of here,” I urge, my heart broken yet again.
thirty-two
Kylie
I pick up the phone and dial Kirby, staring out the window and holding my coffee cup in my hand. He answers after two rings. “Hello.” His voice sounds like I just woke him up and chances are I probably did. I waited until nine to call him, which is six hours after I woke up for the day. I’m now on coffee number two and even though I should feel exhausted, I don’t. I feel defeated.
“Hey,” I say.“Can I borrow your house in Arizona?” I stare off into the distance, focusing on the skyline but instead seeing Knox’s eyes. His eyes looking at me with an expression I don’t think I ever want to see again. One that will be seared into my brain for the rest of my life.
“What?” I hear the covers on his side rustle, and I know he’s definitely in bed.
“I’m thinking of going back to Arizona and seeing a couple of my friends.” What I want to say is being close to Knox is too much for me. So, I need to put as much space between us so I can work through my feelings for him. “For like a week, maybe two.”
“Of course,” he replies softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him with cheer in my voice, as I wipe away a tear that escapes from my eye. “I’m going to go and book a flight now,” I tell him, even though I already did it last night when I came home. “I’ll send you my travel info.”
I spent the whole game with the kids, the whole fucking game. Wanting to be close to them, or better yet, needing to be close to them. I wondered if he would have told them not to talk to me, but they were as friendly as they always were. During warm-up, I saw him skate up to us and I made an excuse to talk to Lexi. I felt his eyes on mine the whole time, trying to tell myself that I was fine; I wasn’t. But I would be, or at least that is what I had to believe. I watched the game, or better yet, I watched him. His game was completely off and then the fight at the end? My chest felt like it was going to explode. I got out of there the second he skated to the box, telling everyone I wanted to miss the traffic, when in reality, I couldn’t face him. I got home and booked a flight to Arizona for this afternoon. I would stay at a hotel if I had to, all I knew was I couldn’t stay here in my apartment. The four walls felt like they were closing in on me.
“Um, okay.” His voice is unsure. “Call me if you need me,” he says and he lingers on the call, and I have to wonder if he knows what happened.
“Will do.” I disconnect and walk into my room, packing two bags. Not one… two. Overpacking, I pack three outfits a day. I have never in my life changed more than once a day and here I was going to Arizona, thinking I’m going to go out on the town every single night.
The minute I step foot into the house and open the shades, I know I shouldn’t be here. I know I don’t want to be here. I know exactly where I want to be. I force myself every single day to get out of bed. Force myself to eat little bites of food here and there. I go to the Pilates class I used to go to when I lived here. I go to the grocery store as if my life isn’t shattered and burning to the ground around me. As if I’m suddenly this gourmet chef. I buy things to bake, which I’ve never done in my life. I pretend it’s all okay when inside a piece of me dies every single day. The heaviness I had when I got here is even worse as the days go by instead of getting lighter. I thought after a couple of days it would be fine. I thought it would lessen. I. Was. Wrong.
Needless to say, the week I’m here is borderline the worst week I’ve ever had in my life. And that is saying something, especially with my childhood and my teenage years. I thought coming out here would clear my head. I thought it would make it easier. It didn’t, it just made it even fucking worse. I cut my trip short, going back home and not telling anyone. I’m sitting on my balcony, and I think I’m on hour two of sobbing.
My heart literally hurts. I pick up my phone and dial Lexi’s number. She answers after one ring, “Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I sniffle, “do you think you can come over to my apartment?”
