Problem is, I also don’t want to face my real life, and now I have to.I’ve successfully completed this rehab program.And yeah, I could afford to stay another month, but I already extended once.It was supposed to be a four-week program, and I’ve been here six.And now… I have to stop being a coward.
I take a shower and throw on jeans, a sweatshirt, and slides, and head out to the breakfast buffet.Mila is holding a seat for me at her table, with Dusty, Mike, Rob, and Renata.I grab eggs and bacon and some cantaloupe and join them.
“How ya feeling?”Mila asks.She’s one of the only people in here my age, so we attached ourselves to each other.She’s nice.The daughter of a film director who developed an alcohol problem at sixteen, which slipped into a drug problem by college.She was found unconscious in her UCLA sorority after too much coke and oxy.That was her first rehab stint.This is her second.She drove her car into a, thankfully, empty movie theater at four in the morning in Bakersfield, California.
“Good.”I nod and pause.“Nervous.”
“Where are you going?”Renata wanted to know.“Right back to work?”
It amuses me that they call hockey work.Like it’s a nine-to-five accounting job or something.I’ve never thought of it as work.Not for a single day, until I got here, and that’s what everyone called it.My job.To me, it’s always been… my legacy.My passion.My destiny.It wasn’t something I picked.It picked me.I swallow a forkful of scrambled eggs and nod.“Yeah.I have to get back to Vegas, and I’ll be removed from the Player Assistance Program, but I won’t be allowed to play.”
“But the Vipers made the playoffs,” Mila says with confusion.“So they’re still playing.Can’t you jump back in?”
I smile.She just started following hockey since meeting me.“They put me on season-ending injury reserve, which is new this season and means I can’t come back.I’m sure I’m not ready conditioning-wise anyway.This is the longest I haven’t been on skates since I was three.”
I hadn’t been told anything, specifically, by my team or my agent.The Vipers and the league are forbidden to move me, trade me, or waive me while I’m in the Player Assistance Program.And I have a no-trade clause in my contract, which ends July 1.The Vipers had reached out about an extension back in January, but they’ve since gone silent.I know in my heart my time with them is done—my time in the NHL is done.I’ve earned my label as problematic, and there’s no way Vegas is going to risk re-signing me.And no other team will pick me up either.That’s the reality I’m going to have to accept.I’ve already started looking at European options.
“You’ll figure it out, Theo.I have faith in you,” Mila says and pats my hand where it rests on the table.I smile at her and hope it looks equal parts appreciative and confident.
My last meeting with Dr.Caulfield happens at three, and after that, I get to leave.It’s weird.I haven’t left the grounds of this facility in months.I could have.We weren’t shackled or locked in after the first two weeks.But I didn’t want to.Dr.Caulfield pushed me on that as the weeks went by, but I explained it was the celebrity aspect of my life.I had been on the cover of newspapers across North America and not just in the sports section.People loved a good fall from grace story, apparently, even when it happened to a hockey player, America’s fourth-favorite sport.
Really, I just didn’t want to see anyone or do anything.I preferred spending my downtime between therapy sessions thinking about what a fucking idiot I was.I haven’t told anyone when I’m getting out.I mean, my parents have a vague idea it’s sometime this week, but I told them I would handle it on my own.I don’t need them here to move me out like a kid leaving a college dorm.It’s bad enough they brought me here.And then they forced me to FaceTime with them once a week.Did they not know I could see the way they looked at me?The disappointment?The pain.The worry.I could see it all in vivid detail, and it killed me a little bit every time.
I deserve to feel that pain, though.It’s probably only a fraction of the pain I’ve caused everyone else, but still.
So after I pack my things, say goodbye to everyone, and drag my suitcase to the lobby to call an Uber, my parents are sitting by the door with my sister, Harlow.My heart sinks.I grip the front desk counter with my free hand, physically stopping myself from turning around and heading back to my room.
“Hey, kid,” Harlow says as she walks over and hugs me.I try not to bristle, but I don’t hug her back.
“I didn’t know you guys were coming.”
“I wanted to be here, Theo,” Mom says, and she hugs me next.I manage to get one arm around her.Mom’s hugs are still better than any drug I’ve ever tried.And more soothing than booze.She’s the best, and I don’t deserve her.
“We have a lot to navigate, and I figured it would be best to do it in person,” Dad says.He doesn’t hug me.It’s not entirely out of character, because he’s not a big hugger to begin with, but, well, he does hug, and this feels like the time to do it.
Fuck.I don’t want them here.Now I feel all this shit I don’t want to feel.I swallow hard.“I kind of had a plan.I mean, I have a hotel booked by the airport, and then I have a flight back to Vegas tomorrow morning.”
“Do you have a place to stay in Vegas because your house is… gone.”
“Gone?”I echo and stare at my dad.
“We ended the lease.And we’ve got all your stuff in storage,” he explains, and my jaw drops.
“Why the hell did you do that?”
“Because it was a waste of money to keep the place,” Harlow steps in and levels me with her deep, dark brown eyes.“And it had bad juju.We’ll get you another place in thirty seconds, and you know it.If you need it.”
I inhale slowly, trying to calm my entire nervous system, which seems to be short-circuiting.Harlow is right.Also, I’d told my parents to handle my life while I was in here, so they did.“I’ll probably be dropped by the Vipers at the end of the season anyway.”
“Come on,” Dad says and takes my bag.I decide not to tell him I can carry my own bag, but I want to.
“We have an Airbnb in Santa Monica,” Mom explains.“Three bedrooms.Stay with us.”
I can tell it’s not a request, so I just nod.I have to remind myself I may be an adult, on paper, but I’m their kid always.Dr.Caulfield explained that to me, and also reminded me that I’m barely twenty-six, which isn’t actually that old, no matter how much money I make.He’s right.Being an elite athlete who makes three million a year gave me a false sense of entitlement, invincibility, and maturity.So I will spend the night with my family and act like it isn’t ripping me apart.If that’s what they need, I can do it.I owe them.
Chapter2
Lola
