Chapter 14 – Alise
Chapter Fourteen
Alise
“We needed that,” Ramona says, grabbing me and squeezing.
Beside her, Auntie Mel exhales like she’s been holding her breath all season. “Cooper needed that.”
We’re swept up in the victory tide, funneled toward the family area along with high-fives, camera flashes, and the echo of voices raised in triumph.
The corridor outside the locker room pulses with energy.
Staffers are laughing, reporters are shouting into mics, trying to get snippets for their respective networks.
It’s loud and exciting, everything that should happen after a hard-fought win, but not for me.
Instead of joining in the fun, I hover near the edge, one foot in the party and one already backing away from it.
Ramona’s chatting with one of the assistant coaches’ wives.
Auntie Mel’s practically glowing, soaking up the buzz.
I try to match their energy, but my eyes keep darting to the locker room door like it might crack open and give me answers or confirm something I’m not ready to hear.
I’ve watched many players file out of the locker room with bright smiles on their faces, but no Cooper or Beau.
Sure, he sat on the bench during the game, but what if—no, I refuse to think like that.
If something had happened, Cooper would’ve let us know.
I know that, but what if he doesn’t know?
What if Beau has gotten so good at keeping everything locked inside that no one notices when something is very wrong?
I shift from foot to foot, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth, as every scenario of what’s happening behind that door filters through my mind.
“He’s okay,” Auntie Mel whispers, grabbing my hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “He’s in there with Cooper, who is probably fussing over him as we speak.”
“I know you’re right, but I’d rather see that with my own eyes.” I huff, giving her hand a small squeeze. “But I have a feeling I’m not the only one who’s feeling that way right now.”
“You sure aren’t,” Ramona chimes in, winking at me before motioning toward the locker room door. “The wait is over.”
I turn toward the door and notice Cooper stepping through, wearing a Timberwolves hoodie, his hair still damp from the shower, his grin wide and boyish like he just scored his first-ever goal instead of assisting the game-winner of a nail-biter.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the golden boy himself.” I smile despite the knot in my stomach.
“Excuse you,” he says, feigning offense. “I’m a rugged, well-aged hockey veteran, thank you very much.”
“You’re thirty-two,” I deadpan, slapping him on the arm instead of giving a high five.
“Exactly. Basically ancient in NHL years.”
Ramona laughs and bumps her hip against his. “You were limping like an old man by the second period. Don’t tempt me to order you a walker for your birthday.”
“Can it be team-branded?” Auntie Mel asks, not missing a beat. “With little air horns that go off every time he scores?”
“Why do I love any of you?” Cooper groans.
“Because we’re adorable,” Ramona says sweetly, kissing his cheek.
“And we keep you humble,” I add, nudging his arm.
“You’re all bullies,” he mutters, though he’s clearly enjoying every second.
I loop an arm around Auntie Mel’s. “But seriously, Coop, congrats. That was one hell of a win.”
He gives me a warm smile, more genuine this time. “Thanks, Alise. We needed it.”
“I know,” I say, my voice low.
He looks at me a beat longer, then glances toward the locker room. Just like that, the weight sitting in the center of my chest creeps back in. “Hey… where’s Beau?”
The change in his posture is subtle, but I catch it. Cooper’s shoulders tense almost imperceptibly. “Yeah, he just wanted a few minutes of peace before coming out.”
Auntie Mel chuckles. “I can only imagine how loud it was inside the locker room after the game. If it was anything like the chaos that was happening out here, I’m not surprised.”
“But he’s okay, right?” I question, a part of me not really wanting the answer but another part needing to know.
Cooper drags a hand over his face, heavy and resigned. “I don’t know. He looks like absolute crap.”
“So basically, it’s a regular Thursday,” I mutter, but the joke falls flat in my mouth. The sarcasm tastes like panic on my tongue.
Auntie Mel scoffs, arms folding tight across her chest. “There is nothing normal about Beau riding the bench during a game like that.”
“True.” My voice is barely a whisper. “What did Mercer say to him?”
The flash in Cooper’s eyes is pure lightning. His mouth opens, then shuts, the muscles in his forearms bunching as his fists clench, his silence telling me everything I need to know.
“That bad, huh?” My breath catches halfway up my throat. I try to swallow it down, to stay calm, but my heart’s pounding loud and frantic against my chest.
“Yeah,” Cooper says roughly. “That bad.”
Ramona reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together. Her grip looks like it’s holding more than just affection; it’s anchoring him.
“I just hope he’s not planning to shut us out again,” Cooper mutters.
“He does that when he’s scared,” Auntie Mel murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. She crosses her arms, gaze fixed toward the locker room. “I’m staying in town tonight. Ramona said I could stay at their place tonight.”
“You sure?” I ask, my voice wobbling around the edges. I don’t want to be too far away from Beau tonight either. Now I have the perfect excuse to stay, even if it’s sleeping on Ramona and Cooper’s couch.
“I want to be close. Just in case.”
And then finally, the locker room door creaks open.
Beau steps out as if the air out here might knock him over.
His hood is pulled up, the strings cinched tight, and his hands are jammed in the kangaroo pocket like he’s trying to hold himself together.
He walks as if he is negotiating each step with rusted joints.
The roar of celebration behind us dims to a dull fog; all I can hear is the soft drag of his sneakers on the tile and the thunder of my heartbeat.
No cocky grin or mock-bow to everyone still waiting in the family section.
None of the goofy exuberance he usually can’t contain after a win.
I don’t need a diagnosis to understand the truth vibrating off him: pain, fear, bone-deep fatigue.
Something bigger than a rough shift or a careless hit. Something has hollowed him out.
He finally looks up, and in that single heartbeat, I see everything he’s trying to hide: the glassy sheen of pain, the brittle line of his mouth, the desperate plea not to make him talk about it here, now.
My chest constricts so fast it hurts as I step toward him.
The instinctual tug drives me to fix whatever’s hurting him.
My fingers itch to cup his jaw, to prove he’s still warm, still here, because he looks like someone who’s drowning in plain sight.
He forces a crooked expression, more wince than grin. “Hey, Sunshine.” The words scrape like he’s swallowed gravel. The nickname splinters something inside me because right now, the only thing shining is the panic sparking under my skin.
“You haven’t called me that in years,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say to him as I process what’s going on.
The Timberwolves fought tooth and nail to clutch the win, and he’s standing here, looking like the ice swallowed him whole. We all know this isn’t just exhaustion. It’s a warning light blinking red like we’re seconds away from watching him have a complete meltdown.
“Beau!” Auntie Mel calls, already making her way over. “You hanging back on us, baby?”
His chin jerks up just enough to flash a ghost of a smile as his hand flicks to the hem of his hoodie, tugging it down quick before shoving both fists back into the pocket.“Yeah. I just needed a minute.”
“You played the bench like a pro,” Ramona teases, grinning.
“Thanks,” he mutters, the word thin and dull. “Good win.”
Even his voice sounds hollow, dry and rough like sandpaper, grating against my ears.
It sounds like he’s running on fumes and denial, only a few steps from closing himself off from the world to suffer alone.
Just like he did when Uncle Mark passed away, when Cole left their childhood home without a second glance, when he was in the hospital, terrified that he’d never play hockey again.
Cooper gives me a subtle shake of his head as he and Ramona walk off with Auntie Mel. “Keep an eye on him.”
I don’t respond, just nod my head, my eyes focused on Beau. There are only a few inches of space between us, yet it feels like a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon.
“Hey,” I say, stepping into his line of sight.
His eyes find mine slowly, like it costs him something just to lift his head.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” he responds too fast, angling his body away from me like he’s shielding something from me. His voice is flat as his eyes shift to the side, away from mine.
My eyes scan over him, noticing there’s a shimmer of sweat clinging to his brow despite the cool hallway, and his skin looks ashen beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He clenches his teeth tight, and his breaths are shallow and strained, like each inhale is tearing his lungs raw.
“What happened at the doctor’s?”
“Momma told you about that, huh?”
“Of course, she did. But that’s not the point, Beau. You should’ve told me.” My voice wavers. “I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me.”
His eyes flick to mine, just for a second, but there’s something there. Panic, guilt, pain, and something else I can’t quite place, but it vanishes just as fast.
He tries to shrug, but his left shoulder jerks awkwardly and immediately drops like it cost him everything just to move. “Nothing. Cleared for light stuff.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Beau.” My tone sharpens.