SIXTEEN #2
“Detectives are coming here to find out who did that,” I murmur, nodding toward her phone. “They... she wants to speak to you, too. ”
After a few moments, her eyes lift to meet mine. Anger is there, but there’s also a look of shame on her face that is almost too much to bear. She has no reason to feel ashamed. She did nothing wrong.
Instinct screams at me. My arms twitch, wanting to reach out and take her into them, shielding her from the world. Kiss her and tell her it will all be okay.
But I won’t. Not until she reaches for me first. Her choice, always.
“Only if you want to,” I rush to say when a tear slips from her eye, trailing down her bruised cheek. “She wants to ask about... that night—”
Her eyes squeeze closed, and she flinches slightly. The distress on her face causes my entire body to tense, as if bracing for a fight. Emerald takes a deep breath through her nose and then exhales.
She opens her eyes and looks right at me.
And she holds up her thumb.
Yes.
So fucking full of pride for her bravery, I nod and send a quick text to Detective Anthony. Emerald seems to deflate into the bed, looking exhausted already. Not from lack of sleep, just bone weary.
Reaching a shaky hand out, I place it on the bed. As close as I can get without touching her. Emerald looks at it for a long moment, and her right hand twitches—only slightly, but there—as if she wants to reach out to me.
“I quit,” I say quietly.
Emerald’s brow furrows.
“The team.”
My wife blinks a few times, like she’s trying to make sense of what I’ve said. Then something shifts in her expression. Not exactly movement on her face, the swelling is hindering that from happening, but in her eyes. They look happy.
“That’s where we just came from,” I tell her, my own chest feeling lighter as the truth of the statement settles. “I don’t play for the Bullies anymore.”
She points at the whiteboard on the tray next to me, and I hand it to her. Unlike last time, she brushes her fingers against mine as she takes the marker from me. Just that small touch, barely even there, feels like the greatest reward. My eyes sting with tears, but I blink rapidly to clear them.
Why?
“Why did I quit?” At her nod, I shrug like it’s obvious. “Because you’re unhappy here. Because I didn’t recognize how I was letting this town—this sport—come between us.”
My mouth twists in disgust as I remember my behavior.
“I never yell at you, and look at what I became. I... let my frustration with a stupid loss take over, and I berated you. I said those ugly words because I felt small—so I needed you to feel small too.”
I knew my father fucked me up, but I thought I had it handled. With Emerald there to anchor me, it kept it contained. Then it appeared fast and ugly the moment I felt small. Fuck. You can try to do everything you can to not be like the person you hate the most, and the poison still drips through.
And as I look at Emerald’s bruised face, her jaw, her body lying in this hospital bed, that poison can have deadly consequences. It’s on me to root it out, not just rely on Emerald to keep it away.
“I need you to know—none of those words were true. I was talking to you, I was talking to—”
I cut myself off as Emerald writes something down and shows it to me.
My body sags in the chair .
Your father.
“It’s no excuse,” I rasp.
Emerald snorts and holds a thumb down. No, it’s not.
“It was pathetic,” I growl at myself. “When I said that you’ve never experienced pressure, and that my job pays the bills. Mommy and Daddy would fix it for you. I didn’t mean any of it. I was... projecting.”
Hal and Janet were always there to bail me out of my education problems. When I failed a test, my father would make a large donation to the academic wing I had failed, and suddenly my grades would improve.
Then Emerald bailed my ass out. She recognized my dyslexia, she stayed so damn patient while tutoring me and guiding me to pass. She’s the one who made me actually believe that I wasn’t dumb.
She’s the one who worked long hours to support me and my dream. Everything I worked for was all for her, but I let that blind me. Doing things for Emerald also means spending time with her, listening to her, respecting her, and loving her the way she deserves.
“I didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t erase that I said it.”
I meet her eyes and barely resist the urge to fall to my knees.
“You are my home. I’m so sorry that I lost my way.”
Another tear slips from Emerald’s eyes, and she glances down at the board, writing something softly, almost tentatively.
Everything hurts. I want to go home. Michigan.
I wait for her to meet my gaze so she knows how serious I am.
“Once I can, I’m going to get you home. I promise.”
Are you sad ?
“About quitting? No. It was an easy decision. One of the easiest I’ve ever made. You or hockey, it’s always you.”
Emerald’s brow furrows and her mouth twists as she writes.
Will you resent me?
I shake my head firmly. “I would resent hockey if it took me away from you, but I will never resent choosing you over hockey, Emerald. I promise.”
My words seem to land, and they’re straight from my heart. It was the easiest choice I ever made, right up there with choosing Emerald over my parents.
“I hired your sister as my agent... but I guess I don’t exactly need one anymore. She did negotiate a pretty sweet severance package for us.”
Emerald’s lips twitch into a small smile at that. Even with the flash of metal in her mouth, even with the split lip and swollen jaw, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Still. Always.
I’m momentarily struck, so it takes me a bit to realize that Emerald’s smile has died and she’s looking at the door with a fearful look. That snaps me back to reality as Detective Anthony stands at the door, speaking to the officer standing outside.
“That’s the detective, baby. She’s very nice. She won’t push you. But the second you want her gone, I’ll have her leave,” I then ask the question I’m scared to know the answer to. “Do... do you want me to stay?”
She looks at me for a long moment, and then back to Detective Anthony.
Hesitating for a moment, she holds up a thumb. Yes.
“Okay,” I nod eagerly, trying to keep my voice even and not show how happy that question made me. “You know how to make me leave, though.”
Emerald gives me a very unimpressed look and gives me the finger.
My lips twitch, but I bite the inside of them to keep from smiling.
Emerald’s face softens for just one tiny second—enough for me to see—before she looks away.
She glances back down at her phone. Instead of that sad expression crossing her face, she just closes the window of the tabloid and locks the phone.
It feels like a choice. To not give these people the attention they don’t deserve.
Pride runs wild through my chest as I stand up and open the door for the detective.
“Hi, Emerald,” Detective Anthony smiles at Emerald.
Emerald’s face doesn’t change from that cautious look. I walk back around the bed, taking my seat next to her. Emerald’s fingers grip the whiteboard, and I place my hand on the bed.
Not touching her, but just... there.
“I’m Detective Anthony. Could I ask you some questions?”