Page 64

I do the worst pirate impression – all knowledge learned from the major Disney franchise, of course – and we both laugh.

“I was thinking more like iconic hockey greats but you’re dead right, Captain Toothless sounds infinitely better looking.”

Chuckling, I stretch my legs out in front of me and lean my head back against the bedroom drawers that are empty because we’re only here for one night – the last road game of the trip before the Dragons make their season debut on home ground.

“It’s been a fun trip,” I find myself saying aloud.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. It’s more grueling on you guys than the world realizes, I think. If you’re not playing the game, you’re thinking about it, before and after. You’re constantly travelling and physically preparing for a game. Let’s be honest, the naps seem fun but I get now that they’re necessary.”

“Ha. You don’t think I’m as lazy as you did?”

“No, you’re still lazy, Jax. Your inability to lift your arm and swipe crumbs from a counter with a cloth is still mind-boggling to me.”

He chuckles softly and I enjoy it.

“I guess you make sense to me a bit more, though. I mean I’m not excusing your inability to cook for yourself and your reluctance to replace an empty loo roll in the main bathroom, but you’ve always had this mundane stuff done for you. You’ve been institutionalized as a lazy hockey player, who can’t do basic life but can give himself whole heartedly to the game he loves.”

“Be careful, Si, it sounds like if I dig deep enough, I’ll find 0.5 percent of a compliment in that speech.”

Now I’m smiling. Smiling at the ease of banter with him, the way he doesn’t overanalyze and internalize everything I say – God, how much of a relief that would be for me – and the fact he’s the only person in the world allowed to call me Si.

“I have a confession to make,” I tell him.

“You? Miss Perfect? Surely not.”

I stare at my wedding band, imperfect because the one we chose would have taken one quarter of the time left on the clock of our relationship to have resized. Yet, kind of perfect because that’s our whole situation – a neat fit for the moment.

“I didn’t work very hard tonight,” I say, rolling the band between my fingers. “I got so into the game that I sort of forgot to work. I think I forgot where I was at times. I was cheering so hard when you scored your hat trick…”

My words hang in the air both sides of the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” I think he’s smiling.

“When I was a kid, Dad and I used to go to as many games as we could afford. He had a job at one point as ice staff and that was an incredible season because we got tickets to every home game. I remember Mom would send us off with a pack-up for dinner or lunch because we couldn’t afford the food at the arena. I’d be so happy, hanging out with my dad, cheering with him. We’d bump our hips together to the music blaring out of the speakers between periods.”

“That sounds nice, Si.”

“It was. It was like nothing else in the world was bigger than the game in those moments but really, it was the game and time with my dad, uninhibited, no distractions.” I pause, wondering if I’m oversharing but for once wanting to. “I’m sitting here considering when I last felt that happy and free and completely untethered.”

“If you say the last time was Vegas, I’ll have to cry,” he says.

I smile. “I was going to say that I felt some of it tonight, watching you guys play. I forgot to, I don’t know, keep up my business persona or something.”

Silence.

I was happy and free in Las Vegas and I’m increasingly wishing I could remember more of it. How did we end up married? Who initiated the conversation? Why did our friends let us get married when we were so trashed?

“It was nice having you at the game tonight, Si.” Jax pulls me back to the here and now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Most people are there to scream at me when we’re winning and otherwise pick holes in my game and tell me what I need to improve. I saw you cheering from the comms box and I felt like there was someone there for— I don’t know.”

“For you?” I venture.

Silence.