Do I want to work this out? Is it even possible?
If I don’t try, it definitely isn’t.
Hey. I hope you’ve had an okay week. Can we set aside some time to talk after I get home?
I wait for several minutes, staring at the text, willing her to respond. But she doesn’t.
Sighing, I switch my phone to airplane mode and put it away, getting out my neck pillow so I can nap a little on the way home. If she’s up for talking when I get back, I want to be rested enough that I’m able to think clearly.
When I get home, though, the house is dark. Itiskinda late, but I figured Hailey might still be up. Her door is closed, though, and the lights are off.
I go into my room and stare at the bed, freshly made with clean sheets as always when I get home from being on the road. It would be foolish to think Hailey might sleep in here, especiallyafter the way we—I—left things. But part of me wishes there were evidence of her in here anyway.
I wake up the next morning to a response from Hailey.
Talking is probably a good idea. Let me know when you’re free
But when I get up, she’s once again nowhere to be found.
This trend continues for the next couple of days, where our paths only briefly cross a few times. Finally, the day of my next game, I manage to catch her at lunchtime before I head to the arena.
“Hey. Good to see you.” I try my best to keep my tone neutral and not snarky. Itisgood to see her. I wish I could’ve seen more of her.
She offers me that smile she uses when she’s putting on a facade, not the smile I usually get from her. “Hey, yeah. Sorry I’ve been a little MIA. I’ve been meeting up with some of the teachers in the area, dropping in on their classes to get some new students, run some sectionals, get my name out there a little more. Maggie connected me with her son’s band teacher—he plays the drums, I guess—so that was a nice in. And he gave me some other names of people to connect with, so I’ve been running around a lot lately.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.” I can’t help feeling a pinch of anxiety, which is ridiculous. This was her goal all along, right? To get established, take on some students, get a spot in an orchestra,start playing gigs? This is empirically good. “I’m happy for you,” I manage to say, even though I’m internally shying away from the end of that train of thought. Her purpose was to do all those things so she could move out and we’d get divorced. The fact that she’s taken her sweet time getting started, and now she’s jumping in as soon as we’ve had our first fight makes me … worried.
“Thanks. How are you feeling about the game tonight? You’re playing Edmonton again, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“They won the last game. Are you gonna take ‘em down tonight?” She makes a fist and kind of punches it into the air in front of her, I guess to emphasize taking down Edmonton.
“That’s the plan.” My smile feels as forced as hers.
“Well, good luck. Or break a leg? No, that’s theatre. I’m not sure what you say to an athlete before a game.”
“Good luck is fine.”
“Did you know that in opera, they say, ‘Toi, toi, toi’?” My brows raise at that, and she gives me a half smile and shrugs. “I know, right? I have no idea what it means, and none of my vocalist friends in college did either. Apparently dancers say ‘Merde,’ which means shit in French.”
Now I’m grinning. “I knew that. We have a few Francophones on the team. Plus, I played in Canada for a while.”
She smiles back at me. “Oh, right. I heard it was something about a time when ballet often would use live animals in their shows, so it was like a warning that there was actual shit on the stage, but …” She shrugs again. “Who knows?”
Laughing, I shake my head. The fact that she’s babbling about random stuff probably means she’s nervous, but her smile looks more genuine, and our shared laughter makes me feel a tiny speck of hope. Could we salvage this? Could I convince her to give us a shot? A real shot?
“Anyway. I’ll be there tonight, so don’t worry. Marissa’s picking me up again. If you don’t feel like driving me home, though, I can take an Uber or something.”
My brows pull together. “Oh, no. Don’t do that. You can ride home with me.” Why would she even suggest that?
Her smile is more forced again. “Okay. Well, great. I’m gonna go practice. Merde or good luck or whatever. See you after!” And she waves at me like she’s going somewhere far away and not just in her bedroom.
I stare after her for way too long, standing rooted to the spot as the sounds of her violin start up.
I still need to figure out a time for us to talk. My phone buzzes with an alert, and I see it’s from the event planner. She has a few questions, and I guess Hailey hasn’t gotten back to her in several days.
Sighing, I type out a quick response, then grab my things and head to the arena. I’ll get some food there, and hopefully while I’m at it, some plan of how to fix this situation will drop itself in my lap.
