Chapter 43
ELIJAH
Dr. Armstrong’s office is not what I thought it would be. While all the other offices I’ve been in are utilitarian boxes with fluorescent lighting, whiteboard and cork board walls, hers is quaint. It looks more like a library than a sport’s franchise office.
Dark bookshelves line the entirety of the wall behind her desk with books, frames, and awards arranged meticulously.
“I’m glad you decided to come see me this morning.” She’s smiling like we haven’t sat in silence for the last fifteen minutes. “I’ve told my assistant to give you priority on my schedule.”
Staring down at her leather notebook where she keeps writing even though neither of us is saying anything, I ask, “No one wants to talk with you, do they?”
“There’s a certain misconception that I’m here to help the coaching staff make roster calls.
In fact, I’m here to help you, the players.
” Placing her gold pen down on the desk, she clasps her hands together, watching me while she continues, “While I do report to the coaching staff and the board of the franchise, my job is to make sure that the Comets do not let any of their players and staff down. Family looks out for family.”
That’s a coach one-liner if there ever was one.
“How did your first biofeedback session go?”
“Fine. Kind of easy, actually.”
There’s something about the way she smiles that sets me on edge as she scans through her iPad. “Looks like you had to slow down a few times.”
“No,” I snap at her.
Dr. Armstrong sits back in her chair, elbows on the armrests as she pushes back and crosses one leg over the other.
Her whole demeanor is frustrating the hell out of me. Even at my slowest, I’m faster than a lot of the other guys.
“Does it bother you?” She asks, watching as I cross my arms in front of my chest like maybe it’ll be enough to stop her probing. “You seem upset about it.”
Dr. Armstrong is holding my stare, waiting for me to make a move, to speak.
This is pointless. Coming here was a mistake.
I should get up and walk out of here right now; except I need to do this to pacify Coach and comply with my medical team’s advice.
More than that, there’s a chance that talking to her could help me be better for Finley and Jayden. I want that more than anything.
“How about we ease into conversation?” Rolling her chair to the side of her desk, she stops a few feet away.
Dr. Armstrong is a well put together woman with her stoic, British accent, and her loose, cream blouse and fitted tan leather skirt outfit that give her a refined presence. Still, she’s barefoot and casually sunk into her fancy desk chair with her dark auburn hair piled high on her head messily.
“Everyone calls me Dr. Armstrong, but I prefer Connie. It’s the name my mother gave me, and I am very fond of my mum. How about you? What would you like me to call you? Elijah, Eli, Sylkes… Preacher?”
I think about it for a beat before I reply, “I like Eli.”
“Why not Elijah?” When I give her a confused look, she says, “I’m curious, that’s all.”
“Ummm… I guess it reminds me of where I came from. It’s not really a place I’m fond of.” Opening up her notebook, she folds it open and starts scribbling again. “Why are you making note of that?”
“I’m getting to know you, so I’m making sure I don’t forget anything important.”
“What’s important about what I just told you?”
Turning the page toward me, she shows me my name scrolled in her loopy writing. “I want to make sure I address you the way you prefer, Eli.”
Is she playing mind games with me? She is, right? Giving me a false sense of ease so I talk to her?
“What else do you like about Eli?” She smiles, dropping her eyes to her notebook again.
“Anyone that’s ever really cared about me calls me Eli. Except for Finley, she’s always called me Elijah.”
“Is Finley your girlfriend?” Her question triggers my pulse to take off.
It’s not an easy question to answer when I’m not entirely sure where we stand or what we are to one another. “It’s complicated.”
Every time she makes a note, I pause, wondering what’s so important about the answers I’m giving her. Each time, she ignores my prying stare like she can’t sense it.
“Are you and Finley together?”
We’re not sleeping together, but we kiss and touch. We live together. If I’m honest, the only reason we haven’t gone further than kissing is because I’m so fucked up, I freak out. Because the nightmares and sleepwalking are back, and I’m terrified of hurting her.
“Are you a couple, Eli?”
“Yes, I guess we are.”
“What makes it complicated?”
I glance up at her, trying to read whether this is something I can talk to her about or not. Is she going to think that it affects the team?
“I don’t think I can answer that, Connie.”
“Why’s that?” She puts her pen down on her notebook, resting both on her lap before she readjusts herself in her seat, tucking her legs under her body.
“You’ll think it impacts my game.”
“Actually, I firmly believe that every aspect of the players' lives impacts their game. In reality, every person’s job is affected by their lives outside of their work. It’s normal. When my husband divorced me, my headspace didn’t bode well for my career.”
“Is that why you came to the States?”
I think I’ve crossed a line when she leans back in her seat. As though she’s trying to put space between us.
With a deep inhale, Connie shakes her head. “I moved to New York for my ex, and to Los Angeles for me.”
I’m an expert runner, so I can confidently tell her, “You ran across the country.”
“I did. It was sink or swim, and I chose to swim. It wasn’t easy, but everything has worked out. Sometimes the scariest decisions we make are the best and most rewarding.”
Talking to her is scary. I’m terrified of what will come of this, but at the same time, I’m desperate to be normal. To be able to give Finley what she wants from me. To trust myself around Jayden. I want to be the person they deserve me to be and not a coward.
“So, what makes your relationship with Finley so complicated, Eli?” Her smile is faint as she asks the question, like talking about her failed marriage cracked her joy.
“Why did your marriage end?” I’m struggling to believe that someone so composed and pleasant could fail at anything. From all the diplomas on her bookshelf, she’s a highly intelligent woman.
“How about you tell me why your relationship is complicated, and then I’ll answer your question?”
I’m curious enough to fall for her trap. In any case, I know I’m eventually going to tell her, because Presley fucking Tomes is the root of all my issues. He’s the snake in the grass.
“Her twin brother,” I tell Connie, focusing on my knotted hands.
“Why does he make it complicated?”
From my peripheral vision, I can see she’s back to making notes. Although it still nags at me, I know that whether she makes them now or when I walk out of here, she’s going to write all this shit down.
“Because her brother is Presley Tomes.”
Boom, the silent bomb goes off in my head. A soundless mic drop that has her glancing back at me.
“The player you were suspended for fighting with, right?”
She knows the answer. I mean, she had lunch with Coach and my physio for a reason. It’s not a coincidence, especially not when she called me out on my stamina.
“Yes.”
“Is it because you’re with his sister?”
“No. Maybe. I guess in part it is because I care for Finley. Mostly, it’s that he’s a sack of shit.
He thinks he can do and say what he wants, that he can manipulate people to hurt others on his behalf and the world is better for it.
Not to mention that he’s a homophobic asshole, and my best friend is bisexual.
” My blood is boiling, bubbling so hot with my anger that my laced fingers are clawing into the back of my hands.
Talking about him is giving me a heartburn so strong that my whole chest hurts.
“Sounds like there’s no love lost between the two of you.”
“There isn’t,” I reply with enough bite that she looks up from her notes again.
“Is that why things got heated between the two of you? Why you got into that fight with him?” If I answer the question honestly and she reports back to Coach, I’ll be benched for every game against The Wolves.
I can’t let that happen. “It’s been and done, Eli.
Regardless of what you tell me, you’ve served your penalty and paid your fine. Done and dusted.”
Done and dusted? Connie has no idea of the scars he leaves behind. All she sees is a man beneath sports armor, not the monster inside the mask he wears so well.
“Yes. He hurts people in heinous ways and then uses it against them.”
“How has he hurt you?” She asks, watching me with her intent stare while I desperately grapple onto the here and now, so I don’t fall into all my nightmares at once.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I tell her, buying myself some time to sort through the chaos in my head. “What happened to your marriage?”
“My husband cheated,” she replies casually and detached.
“As it turns out, my typical British satire didn’t translate to my American hubby.
It made me cold and inapproachable, so he warmed himself elsewhere.
” The sing-song tone of her remark makes me sad for her, because it’s not her satire that doesn’t translate.
It’s her smarts that probably intimidate other people.
“I’ve answered your question, are you going to answer mine? ”
“Presley bullied me. He bullied Finley… and—”
“How did he bully you, Eli?”
Everything inside dries up. My brain throbs as the periphery of my vision tunnels dark and obscure. With my ribs closing around my lungs, I can’t drag in the breath I need to ground myself.
In my head, my nightmare replays on repeat without the sudden jolt of my consciousness offering me a reprieve. Meanwhile, I’m still looking at Connie. Still trying to figure out how I can back out of this conversation without being a coward.
A little pussy boy.
“Eli—” Connie pauses when the alarm on her phone goes off.
Talk about saved by the bell.
“I’m sorry we can’t continue today,” she tells me, with a frown. “Will you come back tomorrow after training?”
I think about it for a moment. Only seconds ago, I was looking for a way out of here, and now that she’s giving me the opportunity to back out, I’m considering coming back.
As hard as it is hashing out the past, it feels good letting out the frustration plaguing me.
Almost better than exhausting it out at the gym.
“Sure.”
“Will I see you at Hillier’s party later?” She asks with a smile so warm that I can’t help but return it.
I don’t know how anyone could think she’s cold. Then again, I don’t know her outside of her office. For all I know, this could be a front to trick me into a false sense of ease around her.
“I’ll be there.”
“I suppose I’ll see you later then,” Connie tells me as I start for the door. When I’m about to leave, she adds, “And, Eli?”
I glance over my shoulder at her.
“Illegitimi non carborundum.” Chuckling at my perplexed expression, she translates, “Don’t let the bastards grind you down.”