Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Zaan
Games three and four in Seattle were a shit show.
I’m not playing my best, but neither is anyone else. It’s like it’s our first week playing together and it makes no sense.
Coach Wylde lost his mind in the locker room after game four, which isn’t like him, and he’s putting us on a curfew when we get home to Vegas. None of it is ideal, but we’re down three games to one in the series. One more loss and we’re going home for the summer.
Part of me wants that to happen.
I feel like an ass just thinking it, but Lexi’s having a hard time, and I know she needs my full attention, no matter how much she pretends she doesn’t.
But the team needs me too.
We’re in the semi-finals, which means we could win a championship this year.
From the outside looking in, it’s not nearly as important as it was before I’d actually won one. Now that I have that accomplishment under my belt, I don’t feel a burning need to do it again. Not this year anyway. My family—my wife—comes first.
My teammates would probably kill me for saying something like that out loud, so I keep my thoughts to myself, but I’m torn between my work ethic and the woman I love.
Her cancer diagnosis, though a decade ago now, is always in the back of my mind.
We had a scare a few years ago when she found a lump under her arm.
It was only a cyst, but she’s vigilant about checking her body and seeing her oncologist yearly.
Since we were told it would be difficult for her to get pregnant, I honestly never gave it much thought.
I assumed that once we were ready, we would explore IVF, a surrogate, or adoption.
Her stepsister, Mack’s daughter Amy, told her she would carry a baby for us if we needed her to, but it always seemed like a long way off.
If I’m honest, I’m in no way prepared for this. Emotionally or intellectually.
Lexi isn’t the type of woman to be coddled or in any way controlled.
Not that I want to control her, but I see how she’s struggling.
She’s torn between excitement for the baby and the pull of her career.
Nobody’s Fool is finally on the verge of the success they deserve, and I know she doesn’t want to take a year off to have a baby.
Except she is having a baby, whether she takes time off or not.
Whether she wants to admit she’s going to have physical limitations or not.
Whether she’s happy about it or not.
And that’s the kicker.
I don’t know if she’s happy.
She says she is, but it’s always like an afterthought, like “of course, I’m happy.” And then she moves on to another topic. No matter how many times I try to have a serious conversation about what her future looks like, at least short-term, she’s finds a way to avoid it.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Anton sits beside me at the pre-game meal.
“Yeah.” I pick at the pasta in front of me.
“What’s going on?”
I shrug. “A lot. Hockey. Lexi. You know.”
“You still haven’t talked about things?”
“I’ve tried but she finds a way to deflect.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Because she’s about to start a year-long headlining tour that they’ve worked really hard for.
She doesn’t want to cancel. She doesn’t want to stop what she’s doing professionally to focus on a baby.
And as we discussed, I can’t make a strong, independent woman do anything unless she’s the one who wants to do it. ”
“You may have to let her figure this out for herself.”
I grunt.
“Great. She’ll be nine months pregnant, and her water will break on stage in Belgium or some shit, and I’ll be in Alaska or as far away as humanly possible.”
He chuckles.
I know he’s not laughing at me, because it is a ridiculous scenario, but I frown at him anyway. “It’s not funny.”
“It kind of is. Because that would be my wife too. I totally get where you’re coming from. At the same time, at some point, you have to say what’s on your mind. Communication is important, especially at a time like this.”
“Yeah. I know. I don’t like it, but I know.”
“Maybe we’ll win tonight, everyone will be in a good mood, and you can chat with her. Especially since she’s singing the national anthem.”
I always love when Lexi can come to games, but that’s amped up tonight with her singing the anthem.
“Good idea.”
“Now, eat something. We have a game to win.”
I laugh and dig into my pasta with more interest.
I’m excited any time I get to hear her sing, and this will be especially fun. I asked Coach to put me in the starting lineup so I can be on the ice while she sings, and he said he would.
Now that I’ve made the decision to talk to her, I can focus on hockey.
We need this game.
Two losses in Seattle means we’re down three games to one, so we need to win tonight and the day after tomorrow when we play in Seattle again. It’s a lot of pressure, and we’re all feeling it, but it’s almost a relief to be worried about something other than Lexi and her pregnancy.
When they announce her and she walks out onto the ice, we all immediately start tapping our sticks.
Her voice is as beautiful and powerful as ever, and when she’s done, the crowd is effusive in their admiration and applause.
She’s a star.
That’s what makes this so hard.
How the hell do I ask her to step away from it?
She’s beautiful and brilliant and so incredibly talented.
What she does is important to her, and while I don’t want her to give it up, I just want her to put it on hold for a little while. A year. Is that too much to ask? My gut tells me yes, which is why I’m being careful, but it’s hard to sit back and not give input on something so important.
Our eyes meet and she gives me the same sweet, private smile that’s been captivating me since the first time I saw her.
I’ve loved her through all of our ups and downs—and there have been a lot of them—so I’m confident we’ll get through this.
At least, that’s what I have to keep telling myself.
Because the alternative is unimaginable.