Chapter 25 #2
“Yeah. The second unit has been especially rough, but honestly, I think it’s just lack of experience.
Both the power play and penalty kill have been shuffled around a bit because we’re down some players, so we’ve got some guys up from the farm team, and…
” He waved his hand. “They’re young, you know? ”
My stomach somersaulted. “A couple of players missing from the power play.” I nudged my food with my fork. “Including one who’s in rehab.”
Peyton jumped as if he’d forgotten I was one of the missing players he’d been referring to. “Avery.” He shook his head. “This isn’t on you. We’re also missing Willie because he has the flu, Mix was down until yesterday with the same, and Lavoie is probably done for the season because of his elbow.”
“So it’s the worst possible time for me to be—”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” he said gently.
“We’re holding the line. The penalty kill’s struggling right now, and we’ve had some tough losses throughout the season, but we’re doing all right in the standings.
We’re still in the playoff conversation.
” He gave his head another shake. “We’ve got this while you recover, same as we’ve got it while Willie and Mix recover. ”
Half a dozen arguments flew to the tip of my tongue.
They’re sick and injured—I’m not. I should’ve held on until the rest of the roster was healthy.
The team shouldn’t have to do all this extra work because I couldn’t keep it together.
I could hear my therapists’ voices in the back of my mind, reminding me I wasn’t being selfish or neglecting my team.
I could hear my coach and GM telling me they supported me and wanted me to take care of myself.
I could hear everyone and their mother reassuring me that this wasn’t weakness or failure.
It was grief, plain and simple, and I was doing what was best for myself and the team by addressing it.
“Avery,” Peyton said again. “We’ve got this. Everyone’s working hard and stepping up to the challenge, and you’re going to come back in a few weeks as an even better version of yourself.” He smiled. “It’ll all be worth it.”
I exhaled. “God, I hope so. I guess it’s good I’ve been practicing.” I frowned as I scratched the back of my neck. “Not sure how long it’ll take to get my timing back once I’m with the team again, but…”
“Well, we don’t have to just practice one-on-one.”
I locked eyes with him.
Peyton stared at his plate and half-shrugged. “The other guys—if you want to skate with more than just me, I know I can get some to join us. Eminem and Baddy would definitely be down.”
“They…” I sat back in my chair, and I somehow I managed to whisper, “Really?”
“Absolutely. They all miss you. Every time we have a team meeting, someone’s asking about when you’ll be back.”
“They do?”
He nodded, and he smiled. “The only reason I didn’t tell them we were skating today was I wasn’t sure how you’d feel if a bunch of them stuck around to see you.”
My throat tightened around my breath. “You think they would have?”
“I’d bet money on it.”
“Whoa.”
Voice softer, he said, “They want to see you. I know they do. But it should be on your terms—that’s why I didn’t tell them. So they wouldn’t catch you by surprise.”
I stared down at my food. I missed my team so damn much. I wanted to see them so, so bad. And holy shit, I wanted to believe that they missed me and wanted to see me too.
But I was still convinced that they resented me for leaving them in a lurch mid-season. It was impossible to imagine the kind of warm welcome he was suggesting.
“I’m serious, Avery,” he said gently. “Next time we skate, let’s see if some of the guys will join us. I can guarantee they will.”
The thought of practicing with my friends again filled me with both a sense of dread and a deep, painful longing.
I cringed at the idea of looking them in the eyes again; no matter how much Peyton assured me they had my back, and no matter how much they’d been texting me to try to get me to golf with them, I was embarrassed and ashamed of what I was going through.
It didn’t matter how much people reassured me that this wasn’t a failure or a character flaw, it still felt like one, and I didn’t want to see their pity or their derision.
At the same time, just thinking about hitting the ice with Baddy, Eminem, and some of the other guys… God, it made my chest physically ache. I’d always been restless when I was rehabbing from an injury, eager to get back out there and skate, and now—I mean, fuck. What was stopping me except pride?
I took a deep breath and met Peyton’s gaze again. “They really want to practice with me?”
“All of them,” he said without hesitation.
My heart pounded as I weighed my options, hemming and hawing between hiding away with my bruised pride and stepping back out into the camaraderie I’d been missing so much.
Finally, I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”
And nothing galvanized my decision more than the way it made Peyton smile.
God, yeah.
Let’s do this.