It’s crazy to think about how far I’ve come.
Not wanting anything to do with relationships and shit for years.
I wanted to focus solely on hockey and forget about everything else, and I left Ellie all those years ago to get rid of distractions.
But now that she’s back in my life, albeit unexpectedly, I can’t imagine being without her.
Of course I still care about hockey, and I really do hope my knee heals so I can get back to my team, but maybe I’m realizing now that hockey isn’t the only thing I have in my life.
Christ, if my teammates could hear me now. Some of them might understand how I’m feeling considering they’ve settled down. I wonder if they felt like their world was shifting around them. Maybe I should ask them. Or would they just think I’m a pussy? No, they wouldn’t think that. I didn’t think that when Callahan got so drunk one night that he cried on my couch for two hours about Kelly because they’d gotten into an argument earlier that day.
I found it slightly amusing, yes. But I didn’t think he was a pussy for caring about the woman he loved.
By the time Jared walks in, I’ve talked myself into calling Calli after my session.
The last session I had, Jared told me my injury was healing well, and I should be back on the ice in no time. I’ve learning to take everything the doctors say with a grain of salt. I’ve also learned not to get my hopes up for things I really want, because that’s when the exact opposite happens. Today he’ll tell me that I’m regressing and his words from last week will mean nothing.
“How we doing today?” Jared asks, trying to strike up a conversation before he begins his torture.
“Ready to get this over with,” I tell him honestly. After this, I have to head to the school for a fundraiser rehearsal.
We’re closing in on the big day, and we only have a few more rehearsals to go. It’s been a challenge for all of us. My guys have had a bit of trouble getting the dancing down, and I’ve struggled to get all of the steps without needing to rest my knee. I probably should have told Ellie I couldn’t do the dance, but I knew it would make her happy and I want to do that. I want to make her happy to make up for the times I made her the opposite.
The drama kids have been doing well with their part, and I love watching Ellie in her element. She was meant for this life, and knowing her, she doubted it. Ellie is confident, don’t get me wrong. However, she still questions herself. A sharp pang in my chest reminds me that she wasn’t always that way. She used to be so sure of herself and her abilities. I suppose I might have had something to do with that part of her diminishing. Or maybe I’m giving myself too much credit and it has nothing to do with me. I did read a few years back that her father was arrested. Maybe it has to do with that.
Either way, I think I’m starting to see that spark coming back to her now, watching her lead these kids and helping them realize their full potential. I love that for her.
Fuck.
I think I love her. I don’t think I ever actually stopped.
“Well, then let’s get going. Show me what you got,” Jared says.
I push myself off the table and plant my feet on the mat, and for the first time in months, I don’t feel that sharp pain that usually radiates up my leg.
Jared’s eyebrows lift. “Well, would you look at that.”
“Don’t jinx it,” I mutter, but there’s no bite in it, because I finally don’t feel so broken.
We start with balance drills. Six weeks ago, I couldn’t stand on this leg without feeling like the floor was trying to swallow me. Four weeks ago, I could walk and stand for short periods of time before the pain became unbearable. Two weeks ago, I could shift my weight without wanting to throw up.
The panic attacks slowed, and even though I wasn’t feeling like everything was going to be okay, I was able to think of what Ellie told me. Hockey isn’t who I am. It doesn’t define me. There is more to life than hockey. I wouldn’t say that I began to accept the fact that my professional career could be over, but I was more focused on the Wolves and Ellie than I was about my knee.
Today, I’m able to put pressure on my leg instead of limping and trying to keep from taking a full step. It trembles a bit, my muscles trying their best to remember how to work without the pain they’d become so accustomed to. Yeah, there’s a little residual pain there, and it’s not completely healed, but it’s finally at a place where I allow myself to have some hope.
Air leaves my lungs in a shaky rush.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
“I know,” Jared says softly. “Big difference, isn’t it?”
Big difference doesn’t even begin to cover it. I know this is just standing, but this means that I’m one step closer to getting back to the Storm.
“Try a controlled squat,” he says. With a deep breath, fully ready for the pain to make its way back,
I slowly make my way down into a squatting position, hold it for a few seconds, and carefully make my way back up. There was a pinching sensation, but not one that made me want to fall over and writhe in pain.
I haven’t been able to do a squat in weeks, and I revel in the strain I feel in my legs. Fuck, I’ve missed being able to do that. Jared smiles, watching as I do one more squat for good measure.
