“Well, I didn’t ask any of you to be,” I say with a sigh. “I’m really fine.”
“It’s just not very smart to keep this up when the doctor already told you how detrimental it could be for you if you keep playing,” Dee goes on, pointing her fork at me. “I can see the way it hurts you every fucking game. We all can. You’re not fooling anyone, Jack.”
And that irritation gives way to mild anger, because they act like I’m a fuckingchild.
“I’m not trying tofoolanyone,” I say a little harshly. “I’m just trying to play my fucking game without everyone constantly telling me that I can’t.”
I feel a soft touch at my knee, but even Abby isn’t enough to stifle the growing anger building inside me. This isn’t what I came here for, but it seems that they aren’t done.
“You always have next year,” Bea points out.
Ian nods. “That’s true. Just because I’m retiring doesn’t mean you have to. You could have the surgery and be back on the ice by next season.”
“Which is what youshouldbe doing,” Dee grouses.
“It’s just a damned game,” Bea says.
And it seems that’s the final straw, if the way my chest swells with rage is any indication. I’ve never felt this way toward my family before, but right now, I can feel the anger swirling with a panicked edge that has my heart racing and my blood thumping in my ears, and all I can think about at this second is getting out of this room.
I shove away from the table before rising to my feet, my jaw clenched and my body rigid.
“I need some air,” I say to the room loudly, watching as their expressions all morph into confusion.
I can’t remember ever raising my voice to them before. I can’t remember a time when I’ve everwantedto.
I stomp away from the dining room toward the hall in search of my old room, pushing through the door and shutting it behind me with more force than necessary. My breathing is erratic and my head is pounding, and I can feel the way an episode is building, knowing that my pills are back at home where they’re useless to me.
There’s the soft sound of my doorknob turning behind me, and I shake my head before I even look, just needing a minute to myself.
“Just give me a sec, Dee,” I say to the air. “I just need a damned minute.”
“It’s me,” Abby says quietly, making me wheel around to face her.
“Abby?”
“I told them I’d come talk to you,” she says.
My brows rise. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you barely want them to know that we’re friends,” I say, not meaning to let my irritation with them bleed over into my feelings on that matter, but sensing it happening regardless.
Because shedoesn’twant them to know, and right now, it only makes me feel worse.
Abby, ever perceptive, seems to notice.
She takes a step toward me, pressing her hand to my chest and looking up at me with concern. “Are you having an episode?”
“I—” My shoulders slump; I feel like a dick now. “Maybe.”
“Just breathe through it,” she says softly. “In and out.”
I do as she says, taking a deep breath in through my nose and blowing it out through my mouth like I’ve been taught. She keeps her hand pressed to my chest while I do it a couple more times, and I have to admit that it makes me feel a little better.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
She shakes her head. “I know how it feels when everyone seems to be ganging up on you for ‘your own good.’ ”
