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I text her back rather than picking up.

Me: We don't need to talk about it.

My phone rings again, and it's her calling again.

I roll my eyes at my phone and then pick up because she’s going to bother me until I do. “What?” I answer, exasperated.

“You're in a mood,” she says.

“I know I fucked up, and I really don't want to get further into it.”

“Oh God, Cash, what did you do now?” she asks.

“What do you mean, what did I do now? I'm talking about the thing that's going to hit the news cycle like you just said.”

“Wait, what?” she asks.

“Are you not talking about my very public falling out with my wife and her subsequently leaving me in front of my entire hockey team?” I ask.

She's quiet for a few beats, and then she says, “Um... no?” with a question mark at the end.

I blow out a breath. “Okay, well, then what the fuck is it?”

“I'm talking about your wife's father's sentencing tomorrow, but I think we need to talk more about the thing you just said.”

Oh, shit. That’s right.

I blow out a breath. “If it's not out yet, then we don't need to worry about it.”

“Cash, if it happened, we need to worry about it. And I still don't understand why you never tell me these things until I find out after the fact when I could get ahead of it for you if you simply tell me about it when it happens.”

“Okay, sure, but like, how are you going to get ahead of this? I had my annual party at my house the other day, and Ivy found out about the bet. She ran out on me in the middle of the party, and I tried to go after her and kicked everyone out of my house. I'm shocked nobody's talked yet.”

“Shit. Are you okay?”

“Not really,” I mutter.

“Listen, of course they haven't talked. You're their captain, and they respect the hell out of you.”

“I appreciate that, even though I'm not sure I fully believe it,” I say.

“Well, believe it or not, it's the truth. And now I feel like we need to maybe issue some kind of statement or get ahead of it,” she suggests.

“Or not,” I say. “I mean, we could just leave it be, and maybe it won't come out.”

“As your publicist, I strongly advise against waiting it out, but I understand if that's the position you’d like to take. Now about the sentencing. I assume you will not be accompanying your wife?”

“I can’t. I’m in the middle of training camp.”

“Well, I know that, obviously.” She sounds exasperated. “But in case you forgot, I also have your schedule, and you’re not playing in tomorrow’s game.”

I press my lips together. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“I’m not implying anything, Cash. This was set before the season started, notwithstanding yesterday’s performance.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I repeat. I played like shit yesterday, and everyone in the goddamn locker room knows why. Coach reamed me out and said even if he didn’t already have me sitting on Tuesday, he would now. It’s a travel game. I’m not traveling, but neither is West nor Kellan, so it’s not like we’re being benched because of our performance yesterday, though West and Kellan tried their hardest to make up for my mistakes.

“Is this thing with Ivy fixable?” she asks.