It’s brutal.
We’re winning three nil, and our back up netminder, Mikko, has just been put in since it looks like Ares pulled his groin, or something in that area.
Our starting goalie is flexible as fuck, but even flexible people have limits, and while he saved us from conceding a goal, he definitely went a little too far. He limped off to the bench, and I know I’m not the only one hoping he’ll be okay.
Hot tears of frustration stream down my face as I stare at the screen.
It’s been two weeks since I got hit in the face, and while things with the lovely Penelope are going super well... I dunno... I guess I thought the guys would suck without me. Or hoped. Or... something.
But they don’t. They seem to have filled my space without missing a beat on the ice.
My heart is hollow, my gut heavy, and my team successful.
Despite my absence and injury.
What does this mean?
Am I not as good as I thought I was? Am I unnecessary?
I busted my ass for years to get to where I am, another step toward where I want to be.
And in the split second it took for that puck to shatter my face, it seems my confidence shattered right there along with it.
Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?
CHAPTER 24
Penelope
I’m worried about Tate.
For the last couple weeks, he’s been going through the motions. He’s been taking his meds, drinking his food, and resting. All things he was supposed to be doing.
But he’s fading.
He’s losing weight. He’s losing his spark, the light in his eyes is waning.
I get it. At least a little. He’s hurting. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.
He’s in his head, going through everything he did on the ice that night on repeat, wondering if there was something he could or should have done differently that would have ended in different results.
He’s in his head about the game, his capabilities, his talent, and he’s convinced himself that the team doesn’t need him.
He’s phoning it in when it comes to his school work, too. Computer science isn’t an easy subject by any means. I didn’t realize how much math was involved in what he does.
Calculus, basic algorithms, data structures and analysis, data mining... he seems to have such a flair for cryptography and computer security, it comes to him as easily as breathing.
I can’t believe I picked another math nerd to be my partner. I’m reluctant to get Dad and Tate in the same room because they’d end up speaking in a number language and leaving me in the dirt.
Even though my guy loves numbers, his school work isn’t bringing him joy either.
I’ve been around depression enough to know what the signs are. And my guy checks almost every damn box and then some.
Low mood—check.
Fatigue—check. At first I put it down to the fact his body was trying to recover, to heal from a huge traumatic injury. But it’s more than that.
Loss of interest in things you used to enjoy—double check. For the first two weeks he watched hockey every single day, but he hasn’t watched a single game this week—not NCAA, not NHL, not AHL, nothing.
