Chapter 21 #2
“Does hockey still make you feel that way? Like magic? Like the place you belong?” He steeples his fingers in front of his face, elbows on the arms of the chair.
Maybe he can sense that his nonchalant question has rocked me, or maybe it’s just his style, but he pushes on.
“You said you were supposed to protect Natalia, but you couldn’t protect her from yourself.
I take that to mean you couldn’t keep your injury from happening.
” His eyebrow lifts for confirmation, and I nod.
“You also said you couldn’t do it again. ”
I don’t register that I said it, but as Adam leaves his trail of breadcrumbs, I know I must have.
I follow them without prompting, recognizing why my therapist has led me down this line of thought.
How crafty and clever, but necessary. It’s the second thought that has me disconnecting lately, and I’m amazed this man has figured it out already.
“It would be completely reasonable for the trauma of what happened to build a fear of returning to the ice.” Adam is patient, slowly leading me through the tangled thoughts I haven’t voiced, but are sitting just under the surface.
“It doesn’t need an answer because we can work through it together, but have you asked yourself the question: do you want to play again? ”
I pull myself out of Natalia’s bed, satisfied that she’s finally asleep.
The tiny snores that sneak past her lips give a strong indication that she’s deep in slumberland and I can make my exit.
On quiet feet, I pad out of her room, closing the door behind me and walking down the stairs toward the firelight coming from the living room.
Tucked into the corner of the sectional, under an impressively fluffy blanket, Bea’s knees are underneath her.
The pile of melted chocolate curls on top of her head bobs a little as she types on her phone.
Her fingers fly for a few more seconds before she tosses the device onto the coffee table.
When she relaxes into the cushions, she sighs deeply, as though she is expelling demons, not unplugging for the evening.
“Everything all right, solnyshka?” I ask, crossing the space before settling at her side. I stretch my long legs onto the edge of the table and offer an arm to let Bea snuggle close if she wants. She doesn’t take the offer, and I try not to feel disappointed.
“Trinity is messaging me because she can’t seem to get you to answer her.
And I’m running out of things to tell her.
” There’s no reproach in her tone, only irritation.
My arm falls to my side, just like the good mood I had worked up to after my therapy appointment.
Bea digs her fingers into the texture of the blanket and continues, “Andy and the crew are getting restless. They’ve been putting pressure on Ava and the department to start giving more access to your recovery.
“Apparently, my updates ‘lack the details essential to the narrative.’ The documentary isn’t supposed to cover just your life on the ice, but with your privacy requests for Nat, we were able to really keep the focus in the arena,” Bea explains.
“Now, well, there’s a bit of a gray area.
You’re not on the ice.” She reaches out to hold my forearm in gentle comfort.
“They aren’t satisfied with updates—they want access. ”
“Because this is where the story is now.” I nod, seeing things from their perspective. Bea squeezes my arm once.
“But if you’re not ready, or if you don’t think you’ll ever be ready, I can help you tell them.
” An adorable crinkle furrows her brow, and I reach a hand up to smooth the skin.
I try to let the motion do more than that—to soothe her unspoken concerns and silent questions.
I should have known Bea had caught me, my moods.
But this woman gives me space and silent support as I work through all I didn’t know I needed to.
Now, I lift my arm once more and guide Bea against me. She comes willingly, melting into my side, the place I’ll keep her tucked forever because it’s where I need her.
“There wasn’t some bright light, or people I loved standing in a warm glow,” I begin. I press my lips to her forehead and breathe in the orange and elderflower scent of her skin. “Just darkness.”
“Nicky—”
“Let me talk about it.” Bea has stiffened in my embrace.
I rub my hand up and down her arm, trying to release some of her tension.
The process grounds me. “I remember seeing the shot. Hearing the sound. It’s what came after I don’t have my own memories of.
I see what I’ve been told. Remember what other people know.
” I let my fingers curl around Bea’s shoulder.
“But, for me, there really wasn’t anything that happened other than the darkness.
It didn’t feel scary, just peaceful. Like if I was wrapped in it forever, I was going to be okay. ”
A shuddering hiccup sounds from Bea, and I encourage her to twist to look up at me.
The usual warm brown of her eyes is dull behind a tide of tears, primed to fall in a blink.
I slide my hand into her hair, cradling the base of her skull, holding her as my thumb catches the first salty drop and swipes it away.
“Only I didn’t want to,” I confess. “I couldn’t fight my way out, but I didn’t need to. Telling the darkness I wasn’t ready to stay seemed to be enough. Slowly, it unraveled around me. Releasing me.”
“When you woke up?” Bea asks, her breath hitching on an inhale.
“No, before then.” My other hand comes up to wipe more tears from her other cheek.
I’m happy when I no longer see them against her soft skin.
“Waking up hurt. The lights. The noise. The way my body felt. No, the darkness went away in soft waves. A quiet voice. A gentle touch. Until it was gone. And I was alive.”
“Oh my God, Nicky,” Bea chokes, dropping her head onto my chest.
“I don’t want to make you upset by telling you this.” I hold her, kissing her temples, rubbing my fingers into the dip of her neck to try and chase away her pain. “I want you to know because, dealing with everything now, it’s kind of like how it felt then.”
Bea lifts her head. I dip mine so our foreheads touch, brushing my lips against hers. She pushes back, and I like that we’re both a little desperate for the connection. But I need to finish what I started, so I begrudgingly pull back.
“Moving forward, playing again…it’s going to come in waves. Sometimes, the tide will be easy, and others, I’m going to need help getting to shore. But I’m going to swim, solnyshka, and I’ll let everyone see me.”