“She won’t answer her phone?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Maybe Serena’s heard from her. Let me text her.” He pulls out his phone and starts to type.
We get on the bus that’s taking us to dinner and he finally says, “Serena hasn’t heard from her today either.”
“Shit.”
“She said she’s going to keep trying to reach out.”
I just nod, staring out the window absently, trying to come up with something serious enough to make her not come to Alaska. She knows this potentially looks bad to me, to my parents, and even to my teammates. The wives that can are all here. Many brought the kids. We could potentially win the championship while we’re still in Anchorage so the families are here to support their partners.
Except mine.
I’m not particularly worried about optics at this point—we’re married and everyone knows it. But Holly has been so worried about making sure we don’t do anything to impact my career or standing with the team, not to mention the relationship with my parents, so she would be here if she could.
That’s the part that’s tripping me up.
She’s not petty.
I don’t like the way it went down but I understand why she went to New York and what her goals are. We haven’t been together long enough for her to trust me with her future, so she’s planning for the day I leave. The day we file for divorce, shake hands, and go our separate ways.
However, she wouldn’t ghost me in the middle of the championship without having a solid reason.
That’s what scares me.
If whatever happened is serious enough to make her risk the optics of our relationship, then I need to be there for her.
And I can’t.
I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours thinking about everything. Mostly, I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching, attempting to figure out what I really want. And the conclusions I’ve come to are both scary and eye-opening.
The plan has always been to move back to Russia.
Someday.
After retirement.
When I have more money put away than I’ll ever be able to spend, even if I never work again after hockey. I’m lucky that the deal the Thunder offered me was life-changing. Even before that, I lived simply. Sharing apartments or houses with teammates. Hiring a financial planner who’s been fantastic about investments and my spending.
I have a lot of money, even after giving Holly a million dollars and buying a three-million-dollar house.
Unless I do something stupid, or develop some sort of drug or gambling addiction, I will always have money. The Blizzard paid me well—the Thunder gave me a five-year, thirty-million-dollar contract that is setting me up for life. I don’t have to worry about my future, or any future family I have.
Taking money out of the equation, and I know it’s a privileged situation to be in, I’ve thought about what’s next for me.
I love my job, my teammates, and this organization, so the big question mark is the personal side of things.
I have no problem being single. Getting laid is stupidly easy when and if I want it. Taking care of my parents isn’t a hardship—I’m grateful for everything they did to help me get where I am.
But do I want to continue playing the field?
Not now that I’ve found Holly.
She’s changed how I look at everything. The truth is—I can’t imagine moving into our big, empty house without her. Hell, I don’t even like that I’ve had to sleep alone the last two nights.
I miss her.
