There’s no stopping the torrent of emotion. She’s been withdrawn lately, retreating into herself.
I know the messages she’s getting. I only hoped they would stop with the team’s statement. It seems she is the scapegoat for everything happening to me.
Even though all the press is fueling my need to play better—I want them to talk about how great I’m playing, and not my personal life—it’s not helping.
It’s not her fault.
I got myself into this mess before she came along.
Except, Caleb isn’t a mess.
Was I expecting a kid to land on my doorstep? No.
But it’s the best damn thing to ever happen to me. I wouldn’t trade him for the world. I always thought the best thing about me would be being remembered as one of the greatest hockey players for the Knights.
Now, all I want to be is the best dad to Caleb. The best partner to Stevie. They’re the most important things in my life.
“You doing okay?” Dax asks me. “You’ve been distracted all day.”
“Sorry. This shit with Stevie is messing with my head.”
“How’s she doing with all of it?” He wipes a towel over his face. The locker room is sweltering after practice.
“Honestly? She’s not handling it well.”
“I’m sorry. That really sucks, man. I wish I could help.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “I appreciate you guys being here for me. That’s about all you can do.”
“We’ve got your back. If you want us to find them and take them out, we can.”
“We can?” Jasper questions, walking up to us. “I don’t think I signed up for that.”
Dax rolls his eyes. “I volunteered you. If you needed to take someone out, we’d do it for you.”
“If I ever find myself in that situation, I sure as shit am not asking you first. You guys are the least subtle people around.”
“As fun as this is,” I say to end this conversation before they really get rolling, “I need to get home. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Remember, we can take them out!” Dax calls out behind me.
I wave behind me and head straight to my truck. By the time I make it home, Stevie’s car is already in the driveway. Not in the garage where she usually parks.
Why does that cause dread to wash over me?
The fact that she’s home in the middle of the day is also worrisome. I was hoping to have a few hours to figure out what I could say or do to make this whole situation better.
“Stevie?” Heading inside, I call out for her. I drop my hockey bag in the laundry room as I walk down the hall.
Two bags are sitting by the front door.
Crap.
“Stevie? Where are you?”
“I’m in here.”
I follow the sound of her voice into the living room. She looks absolutely gutted, sitting there stiff as a board.
