Then he walks away as if his words didn’t just smack me right in the chest. I stare at the spot he occupied for a long time, trying to figure out if I’m willing to give Chloe up if it means feeling whole again.
When I still don’t know the answer minutes later, I push to my feet and grab my chain from my stall. I slip it around my neck, poking my finger through the wedding band that sits on it for just a moment before tucking the metal inside my shirt. I might not know what the future holds for Chloe and me, but I do know no matter what, where we’re living or if we’re on the same continent or not, she’s still my wife.
And I’m not giving up on that just yet.
I lied to Hutchinson. I’m not fine. Not even fucking close.
I am so damn keyed up with anxiety and uncertainty that I’m quite literally bouncing on my heels to get back on the ice. Music pumps through the speakers—a playlist curated by Lawson—and everyone is in a good mood as we prepare for battle with Edmonton.
Winning a game is exactly what I need right now. I want to smash bodies and get hit and leave everything out on the ice. Ineedit if I want to get rid of this anxious feeling that’s eating me alive right now.
“You good?” Locke asks from beside me. “You’re extra quiet tonight.”
I huff. “I’m fine. Can you stop fucking asking me that?”
“Sure. Can you stop sighing every two seconds, unfurrow your brow, and not jiggle your knee up and down?”
Fuck, have I really been doing all that? I hadn’t noticed.
“Sorry,” I mumble, dragging a strip of tape around my calf. “Pre-game jitters, that’s all.”
“Right.”
It’s a single word, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. I don’t believe me either. As much as I want to be out on the ice and as much as I want to be fully in this game, I can’t stop thinking about meeting Chloe for coffee tomorrow. I have no idea how it’s going to go. Are we going to fight? Will we sit in silence as we have so many times before? Or will it magically feel easy, and we’ll figure out all our problems with one conversation?
I finish taping, then set the nearly empty roll aside and settle back into my stall.
“I’m guessing you’re distracted because of…” Locke looks around the room, making sure nobody is listening in on us. They aren’t. Most of them are either off in their own little worlds, or they’re watching Lawson try to chug as many bottles of Powerade as he can in three minutes. I have no idea how many he’s on, but I already know he’s going to sit on the bench bitching about how he has to pee. “Chloe.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“That makes sense.” He drags a hand through his gray-speckled hair, then shakes his head. “Shit, man. I have no idea how you managed to keep that secret for so long. I bet that had to be eating you alive.”
“Nah, it was easy. Ireallydidn’t want Lawson all up in my business.”
Locke laughs lightly. “Don’t blame you there.” He looks over at me. “How are you feeling now that we all know?”
“Like I still don’t want Lawson all up in my business.”
This time, he doesn’t laugh. He just watches me carefully, and it has me squirming under his gaze because I swear he can see through all the false bravado I’m putting on.
My knee bounces hard, and this time I actually notice I’m doing it. I put my hand over it, trying to stop it, but it’s pointless. It’s like my body has a mind of its own. I need to relieve this anxiety I have somehow. I itch to call my brother, but I don’t have time, especially not before a game. I guess talking to Locke will have to do.
I sigh. “In some ways, it’s a relief. But in others, it’s the complete opposite.” I wait for him to react, but he doesn’t. He just sits there, listening. Then so many words tumble out of me that I never thought I’d say out loud. “I didn’t want you guys to know because that would have meant I’d have to explain it, and I don’t know how to explain. Not just to other people, but to myself. What’s going on between Chloe and me…I don’t knowwhat it is. I was happy. I thought she was happy enough, too. But now…shit, I’m questioning everything. Was she just pretending? And if so, for how long? Was our whole marriage built on her trying to make me happy? Or was there a time when she truly was? When did it change? When didwechange?” I exhale shakily. “I just don’t know.”
“Have you told Chloe all of this?”
I shake my head. “No, and that’s because I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve actually spoken on the phone since we officially separated, and I didn’t think that was a conversation we needed to have over text.”
“God, can you tell Lawson that, too? I swear, he texts me the most random shit. Sometimes literally. He’ll just send a GIF of like Elmo on the toilet, then follow it up with ten links to random articles about retirement or ‘How to Live to Be 100’ or something.”
“Glad to know it’s not just me he does that stuff to. Minus the old-people stuff, obviously.”
Locke narrows his eyes at me for the joke at his expense, but he has to expect it by now, especially since he’s pushing forty and there’s a good chance he’ll hang up his skates sometime soon.
“No, it’s not just you,” he says. “But he means well, you know.”
“Meaning well would be him losing my number, and since he hasn’t done that yet, I really just think he enjoys being annoying.”
