37. Othelia
Chapter thirty-seven
Othelia
I drop my bags on the floor with a thump. I close the front door and slump against it, sliding down it until my ass hits the floor. Hearing my entrance, Rian pops his head around the lounge room doorway.
“Everything okay?” Concern knits his brow.
“The label wants us to perform at this Thanksgiving concert.” Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the door. I open one eye when I hear Rian’s low chuckle to find him sitting on the floor against the door frame.
“Isn’t that the one for charity?”
“Yes,” I moan, “and it’s a good one too.”
“What’s it for?”
“Supporting people living with grief,” I whisper, angling my head to face him.
“Wow, they really hit the nail on the head with that one, hey?” He runs his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. “So, what’s the issue?”
“I’m scared,” I say, knowing I don’t need to say more. He gets it.
“Because last time you performed, I called you about Sloane.” He looks back at me, his heartbreak clear on his face.
“Yeah,” I exhale. “I know it’s stupid,”
“It’s not stupid. To someone else that hasn’t experienced it, it might be stupid, but to you, it’s valid. You’ve lived it before. It’s a perfectly reasonable fear.”
I don’t even have words to say. I’m so relieved he understands, but at the same time, I feel guilty that once again, he’s the one supporting me with the loss of his wife.
“I have alarms set hourly to wake me up overnight,” he whispers. “I try to nap when I can during the day so I can get more than forty-five minutes of sleep in one go.”
“What? Why?” I ask, turning my body to face him better, both of us curled up on the entryway floor.
“I’m scared that one day I’ll wake up and Layla will be dead too, and then I’ll have nothing.” Tears fall down his cheeks and he uses his sleeve to wipe them away. “So every night for the last five months, I’ve woken hourly to double check her and that all the breathing sensors are still working, then I reset the alarms to do it all again the next hour.”
“Rian…” I have no words. I had no idea he was doing this all night.
“One night I fell asleep before setting my alarm and woke up four hours later. I had a panic attack before I could even bring myself to her room to check on her. I spent an hour totally convinced I was going to find her not breathing. It wasn’t until she woke herself up and I heard her giggling over the baby monitor that I snapped out of it.
“I’ve spoken to my GM and asked for some help. I can’t keep running on no sleep. It’s time I spoke to someone about it. Maybe you need to as well.” He’s probably right. There are probably lots of things I needed to get off my chest.
“I’m proud of you. You know she would be proud of you too, right?” I say, grabbing his hand and holding it. He exhales and leans his head back on the wall.
“You know she would want you to do the show.” I sigh, knowing he’s right. Together, we sit in silence for a few minutes. “If you want, I could speak to the team about coming to the concert. We are home that weekend and the team could look at it as good PR for them, plus we are getting to support a good cause. Maybe the boys and I could bring a few jerseys to give away and sign.”
I smile, taking the moment to absorb how many people I have supporting me. “I think that would be really awesome. It will be the first event we’ve ever done together.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling before he stands, holding his hand out for me. “Cool, I’ll message the boys and we will get this thing rolling.”
The crowds are already crazy. Rian has pulled together half of the team for meet and greets during the day, the other already has plans with family for Thanksgiving. I can’t believe how many people are out braving the cold, lining up for hours to meet us and the team.
We move into the arena to warm up in the greenroom before the show. The meet and greets have gone so well; I’ve forgotten how much I’ve missed connecting with fans and getting to spend even that small amount of one-on-one time. But by the end, I’m finding myself so emotionally drained from not only their own stories of loss but all of their condolences about Sloane.
I’m hoping Rian’s coping alright with the attention. Sloane’s death was not only big news here, but it circulated the world. The wife of an NHL star would’ve hit the tabloids here in the states but my connection to them made the news skyrocket and fast.
Walking into the green room, we find a massive table set up with Thanksgiving dinner; the organizers standing with big smiles on their faces.
“We couldn’t have you guys perform on Thanksgiving and not provide you with a proper Thanksgiving meal. Knowing that you guys are close with the Hellhound players, there is more than enough food in these trays to feed the entire team. I hope this is okay. We are just so grateful you could do this for us. Especially on such short notice.” Her glasses slide down her nose as she excitedly gestures to all the food.
Shaking their hand and thanking them, the guys move towards the trays, lifting the lids and inspecting the array of foods on offer. Turkey, mash, vegetables, mac and cheese, greens. The food is endless.
A rumble of voices on the other side of the door catches my attention seconds before the green room door swings open and six hulking players walk in.
Rian and Marcus in the lead, and Maverick and two other players I haven’t really talked to enter right behind. A smile spreads across my face as stormy blue eyes lock with mine. Rook enters last, shutting the door and blocking the outside commotion with it.
He grins as he comes closer, but Maverick interrupts, wrapping me up in a massive bear hug. I can’t help but laugh at the murderous look that crosses Rook’s face as I peer at him over the goalie’s shoulder.
Wishing me a happy Thanksgiving, Maverick moves on when he spots the trays of steaming food.
Finally able to get close, Rook leans in, wrapping me in a lingering hug, his breath skating across my ear as he says, “I don’t think they’ll miss him. He isn’t that good of a goalie.”
I laugh into his chest, feeling him moving in sync with me. I hear him inhale against my hair as he slowly exhales. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” I grip onto his shirt a little tighter.
This last week has been the first time I haven’t traveled with the boys since Rian went back. Preparing for this concert has made my calendar the busiest it’s been in months.
Layla ended up staying in Chicago with me while Rian did back-to-back games this week. We used this week to give Eleanor, Marcus’ daughter, an actual shot at looking after her.
The first time she had tried for an hour while Rian went to training and I had some errands to do. I hadn’t even made it to my car before Rian was pulling back up outside and grabbing Layla, mumbling something about bring your daughter to work day.
Since then, Ellie has been coming over while we were home, giving Rian time to get more comfortable with her being in the house and around Layla, with at least one of us nearby, for Rian’s comfort more than Ellie’s.
This week she really stepped up and Rian had done better than I expected being away from her. He still rang every time he had an opportunity, and followed Layla’s breathing at night via the app on his phone and the video monitor. It was a massive step for him to leave her, especially for most of the week.
Ellie’s come along today, so Layla can be occupied in the green room while we’re at meet and greets. She’s proved herself more than capable and I hope Rian sees that as well. Especially if I’m heading back on tour in March. He needs someone here to support him for the four weeks I’ll be gone.
“Can we agree a week is far too long for us to not see each other?” Leaning closer to me, Rook whispers in a hushed tone, our bodies now standing further apart to avoid attracting attention. We’ve discussed being exclusive, but not how we’ll handle being in public together.
“Agreed,” I say, pushing my hair to the side as I let out a sigh. “Although this is what my life is like. These last few months have been abnormal compared to the last decade. I haven’t stayed in one place for this long since I was a teenager.”
He glances toward me before turning back to look out at our friends. Taking a mouthful of beer, he wipes his mouth before responding. “Are you liking the change?” he asks, a hint of trepidation in his voice.
“More than I thought I would,” I admit, and he lets out a puff of air, like he’s concerned about my answer. “I miss performing, but we have gone non-stop for nearly ten years. It’d be nice to have some downtime.”
“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth turns up. “And what are you planning on doing with that time off?”
“Well, I’m hoping a certain hockey player might enjoy me annoying the shit out of him for a while.” A wide smile spreads across his face and my chest warms. “Speaking of, I should go ask Rian what his plans are for next year.”
Rook chuckles and flicks his bottle cap at me. “Little shit.” I burst out laughing.
Maverick’s voice interrupts our teasing, “Tilly! I saved you a seat.” He waves enthusiastically at the seat next to him.
Rook grumbles next to me, “Fucking goalies.” But the ghost of a smile still floats across his face as he takes his seat opposite me, his foot slotting next to mine under the table.
Looking around at this room full of the people I love most, and a few extras, my eyes settle back on the man that has my attention the second he enters the room. He catches my eye and playfully winks before returning to his conversation with Marcus.
Today, I feel the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.