I drop my head into my hands, tugging at the ends of the strands.
“Unless…” He trails off, turning to look at me.
A faint glimmer of hope lights up my chest.
“Unless what?” I ask, my heartbeat increasing with anticipation.
“What’s the plan?” Larsen asks.
Li taps a finger against his leg. “Unless you’re not a Yeti any longer.”
No. It’s the only word in my frozen mind.
No, I can’t. Or, maybe I should—for so many reasons—but I won’t.
I can play through this injury for one more season. I can get that C on my jersey and fulfill the dream my dad had. The only thing I have left of the man.
I imagine skating onto the ice, hearing my name announced after the word captain. The crowd roaring with excitement.
A nameless, faceless man standing behind the bench, arms crossed.
And Finley, at home on her couch. No one next to her. Watching the game with her notebook open. Because she can’t stop loving the game.
Even if it stopped loving her.
And my heart cracks open.
“But you can’t retire for her,” Larsen says.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “That’s literally what Li just told me to do.”
Larsen shakes his head. “One, we don’t know whether you’re what she turned herself in for, and two, Coach would never forgive you if you retired for her. If you’re going to make that decision, you’d better be real damn sure you’re doing it for yourself.”
“I—” I pause. Would I make the same decision if Finley were completely out of the picture? If retiring didn’t have the ability to save her career? The only way I’ll ever know is if this blows over without HR ever contacting me to investigate.
“I’m starting to see a future for myself that isn’t necessarily playing hockey,” I admit, and it feels like a confession, one I need to be absolved from. “I know there is a chance that Finley isn’t part of my future, but the future that I envision with her, I do want those things. Her, yes, obviously. But also, I want to be able to pick my kids up someday. To chase them around on the ice rink in our backyard. To go on hikes with my wife without needing to take a bottle of painkillers with me.”
“Does that mean you want to retire?” Li asks.
“Would you?” I ask my friends.
Li purses his lips. “Yeah. I would. When my body tells me I’m done, I’m going to be done. I hope it’s in a decade, but even if it’s tomorrow, I’ve had a damn good run, doing something I love as a career.”
“I have had quite the run,” I agree.
“And you’re getting old as fuck,” Larsen chimes in, a smirk flashing across his face.
“There is that.”
“Okay,” Li says, heading toward the door. “You need to think about it. Like, really think about it. And we’ll come back tomorrow and make a plan in case you are the reason she confessed. If you get a call from anyone on the HR team, just let it go to voicemail, and call them back tomorrow. And even if you don’t decide to retire, well, maybe there’s some other way we can make this okay… if it comes to that.”
I watch them leave before dropping my head into my hands.
Do I want to retire?No. I love this game, and I love playing it.
But is it time? With every passing day, every painful step, it’s looking more and more like the answer might be yes. Like I need to let go of the dream I’ve been chasing for my parents and focus on a new dream—one that’s mine. One that doesn’t require me to sacrifice my health for my own happiness.
Chapter 45
