Chapter 28
NICKY
The arena lights reflect off the white surface of the ice, making the entire rink blindingly bright.
I’m crouched in the paint of my goal, muscles strung tight, like a bow ready to lose an arrow.
Through the slats of my mask, I see the other team’s forwards pressing into the zone.
They line up, one after the other, to take shots at me.
The slapshots fire fast, and as prepared as I am, time slows down, and I can’t move.
I wave my blocker to try and protect myself, but it’s gone.
My glove, on the other hand, is also missing.
I’m exposed, and each hit of a puck feels like a sledgehammer to the chest. I try to turn away, give myself some protection from the rapid pain spreading from their point of impact.
It’s centered over my heart, and with each hit, the world grows darker.
I can’t feel my heartbeat anymore, and my breath deflates from me with excruciating accuracy. I lose focus, the world fading as fast as my ability to stay on my skates, but there are more shapes of players, more exacting hits from pucks launched at me.
The ice offers no cushion when I land on it, unyielding and cold.
My thoughts turn to Natalia and Bea. My beautiful girls are watching from the stands tonight.
They’re just beyond the glass, but I can’t see them.
Yet, I know they’re watching. They can see this nightmare play out, all of us helpless.
I try to crawl to them, even as I know I won’t make it. My arms weigh more than I can lift. My legs seem to have frozen to the ice. I can’t make it to them. I can’t hold them and make it better. I can’t tell them I love them.
All that is left is to cry and close my eyes as the crowd chants my name.
“Nicky!”
“He’s not waking up!”
“I think he’s trying to move, let go of his arms!”
With a jolt, everything snaps back like a rubber band. My eyes fly open to the bedroom in the cabin, my body slamming back into me as I sit, tangled in the sheets of the bed I fell asleep in. Every light in the room is on, and I can feel eyes on me. Lots of them.
“There he is.” Charlie’s fingers uncurl from around my bicep on my right side. On the left, shifting off the mattress is Gus, face pale and hair a mess. The entire room is full of shocked faces, some half awake, some alert, and all fixed on me. But one stands out more than the others.
Bea hovers just beyond my feet, a knee on the mattress and tears in her eyes. Her smile is watery and tremulous. My gut clenches, and I reach for her. Without hesitation, she flies into my hold and sighs.
“I’m so sorry.” Not because I fully understand what happened, but for putting that look on her face. For the way she shakes in my arms, even as she runs soothing hands up and down my back.
“It was a nightmare, that’s all,” she starts.
“You had no idea what was going on. I was just afraid you were going to hurt yourself. You started flailing your arms and trying to crawl off the bed.” She pulls back enough to look me in the eyes.
“It’s never happened before, and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I got help. ”
Bea leans back, the implication clear that the entire cavalry showed up at her call.
A storm of emotion rises within me, turning my sweat-soaked skin clammy.
Embarrassment tries to swallow the rest, but I push it down, focusing on the break in the clouds and the shining light of gratefulness instead.
I hold it tightly, letting it ground and guide me when I look at all of them.
“Thank you,” I say, repeating it once more just for Bea before I shift her off my lap. “I think we should talk if everyone is up for it.”
“Hell, I don’t think I could go back to sleep,” Leo muses from his spot by the door. “Don’t even know what time it is.”
“Late. Or early, I guess. Three a.m. is the weird hour,” Crosby states, reaching for Violet. She folds into his embrace and smiles encouragingly at me. “But whatever you need.”
“I’ll put on some coffee?” Maeve offers.
“I can help with that.” Charlie surprises me, but follows her out of the room. Leo spins when they pass and trails after them. I swing my eyes to Gus, who’s managed to pull his hair into a bun and is nodding at something Obie has said.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Gus supplies when he looks up at me. “We’ll be in the living room whenever you’re ready.”
Everyone else treks out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with Bea, who slides off the bed and digs in our suitcase, extracting my favorite tee.
She comes back with it, offering the worn shirt to me.
I use my hold on the material to pull her closer, slipping my hand into her thick curls, the strands tangling between my fingers.
Leaning our foreheads together, I breathe her in.
“It’s our last night here. I’ll call Adam as soon as we’re home,” I promise. Bea nods.
“Okay,” she says. “What are you going to tell everyone?”
“The truth?” I shrug. I pull back to look into her eyes, soft and full of love. “I’m working on things. I haven’t had a nightmare since the hospital, and those felt more like unwelcome memories. This is something new, and I’m going to figure out what the trigger was.”
“The boys did go skating earlier,” Bea considers, and I nod. After lunch, Bea and I made use of the sauna while everyone else went to a nearby rink for some ice time.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” I ask Bea as she pins her hair up in our bathroom.
“I don’t even know how to skate, Nikita. What good is going to the rink for me if you’re not there?”
Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I press a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m going to teach you one day.”
Bea smiles in our reflection, her hands rubbing mine, wrapped around her waist.
“Promise you won’t let me fall? I’m so scared of that,” she admits. I squeeze her, considering.
“That fear is normal, but you have to know: You’re going to fall,” I tell her. Her face drops, so I spin her and cradle her cheeks in my hands. I press a kiss to her lips. “But I’ll pick you up if you do.”
I scan my memory to see if I can pinpoint any unusual feelings, but come up blank.
“Maybe,” I offer before pressing a kiss to her nose. She steps back, and I rise, throwing the shirt over my head.
My friends are sprinkled around the living room, some with cups of coffee in hand, as I drop onto the floor in front of Bea.
Behind me on the couch, she pulls her legs up so I can lean back, my head resting gently in her crisscrossed legs as I gather my thoughts.
She bends forward to brush her lips against mine, the taste of her tea lingering when she pulls back.
Across from me, Violet is snuggled in an oversized chair with Crosby. She rests her head on his chest, but keeps her eyes on me, an alertness there telling me she’s paying attention. Crosby is steady and silent, his arms winding around his fiancée, but he sends me an encouraging nod.
On one couch next to them are Obie, Gus, and Leo in a row. Each of them sips from a mug or yawns, but they wait patiently for me to start.
Maeve sits next to Bea, off my left shoulder. She’s assimilated into our group with surprising ease over the last two days, and while I’m still getting to know her, I feel like she’s trustworthy. She gives me a small smile when I glance at her.
Charlie eschews the furniture, choosing to sit on the floor near the feet of my outstretched legs, his back against the coffee table. His arms wrap around his raised knees, wrists hanging loose.
“Well,” I begin hesitantly, praying the words find me as I wade into my explanation.
“That’s never happened before; I’m really sorry for waking and worrying you.
” I cross one ankle over the other. Bea’s hand drops to my shoulder, her thumb notching along the pulse there in silent comfort.
I heave out a sigh. “Between the panic attack, this, and my ongoing therapy, I think it’s fair to say I’m not ready to come back yet. ”
“But you will be.” Charlie lays a hand on my shin. “One day, you will be.”
“Will I?” My throat constricts, and my nose stings in a way I don’t like. I swallow hard, pushing down the anxiety at the root of my latest round of issues. I blink to keep the burn of tears at bay. “What if I can never play again? That scares the shit out of me.”
The room seems to collectively exhale, then struggle to breathe back in. That truth—the fear—ripples through everyone. I feel laid bare. More exposed than I was waking up from my nightmare. More than any questions I’ve answered for the camera.
Silence expands out from the center of the bomb I detonated.
I’ve tried to be open and honest with the guys throughout my recovery, especially after the panic attack in the locker room.
They know I’m in therapy, and they celebrated my win of watching their practice in the practice facility.
But I know I’ve kept back my true feelings, only giving them in whispers to Bea in the dark of night.
“I’m going to leave The Midnight.” Bea’s voice floats, strong and clear from behind me.
“At the end of the season. All my life, I’ve done exactly what I was supposed to do; I’ve checked all the boxes on the list. Until I moved here.
The list didn’t seem so important after that.
I have no idea what will happen, other than maybe having a chance to be truly happy, but I’m terrified. ”
I reach up and close my hand over hers, squeezing, knowing what she just gave me.
Validation for being afraid. Courage to share that with the people we care about.
The people who support us. Pride begins to eat away at the fear, melding into something else.
Solidarity and understanding that it’s possible to do things, even if I’m scared, because I am not alone.
“I don’t like coming here because I think about my dad, about how much I miss him.
Every time I’ve tried, I just feel sad,” Crosby rasps.
Violet snakes an arm around him and sucks in a breath.
Crosby doesn’t talk about his dad often.
I know he was killed when Crosby was barely a legal adult, but only Gus has heard the full story.
I see some people squirm uncomfortably, and guilt wrestles in my own gut.
We’ve spent two days here, and I never stopped to think about why we never have before.
“But having all of you come up here with me this time? It’s replacing that sadness with new memories.
Memories that feel like growing up here.
It makes me nervous that I’ll forget him. ”
Violet takes Crosby’s face in her hands, “He’s a part of you. That makes him unerasable.” Then she presses a sweet, reassuring kiss to his lips. When they pull apart, Crosby’s eyes are misty, and he clears his throat roughly.
“When I was applying for college, I didn’t stop to think that just because I could doesn’t mean I should.
” Maeve’s voice is tiny, reticent. It’s so unlike her usual personality that I twist to give her my full attention.
Her head is propped on a closed fist as she leans on the arm of the couch.
Her brown hair is pulled into a ponytail on the top of her head, and sadness is streaked across her features.
“My life hasn’t even really started, but what if I’ve already made a mistake I can’t fix? ”
Gus blurs past, climbing between Bea and Maeve, his arms wrapping around his little sister in a supportive hug. Maeve tenses for a moment before giving in. “Whatever it is, Bug, I’ll help you. I promise,” he tells her.
“I get weird messages in my DMs,” Charlie rumbles. He coughs and looks at the floor. “Every time I block the account, it’s like three more show up. It’s starting to freak me out a bit.”
“Charlie,” Violet calls, and he looks at her.
The pair have had their own sibling-like closeness since the day they met.
Now, Violet looks at him with a fierce protectiveness but speaks with a gentle tone.
“Will you let me look at them? I can get the department to flag the accounts and block them across all social media platforms.”
He nods. I nudge him with my foot to gain his attention. I don’t say anything, but since we’ve spent so much of our friendship in comfortable silence, he understands I’m here for him.
“I don’t want to get traded!” Gus blurts out, pulling everyone’s attention to him. “It’s taken me so long to find a team I’m good with, and I think I’d rather retire than lose it. Every time the window opens, it’s like I can’t breathe until the deadline passes.”
“I barely know anything, but even I know that’s highly unlikely. Cal would be crazy to agree to a trade.” It’s Bea who reaches over Maeve to hold Gus’ hand. “Your chemistry is too good to mess with.”
Gus gives her a watery smile.
“I don’t like mascots,” Leo says before hiding behind a drink of coffee.
“You know, the ones in fuzzy suits that look like overgrown stuffed animals? I nearly shit my pants the first time I went to Disney and saw Mickey Mouse. Terrifying.” He shudders.
“The Midnight doesn’t have one, so when the offer came through to play here, that’s why I picked it. ”
The room goes quiet again, only this time with a lighter silence.
A brittle one that cracks when Violet snorts and promptly buries her face in Crosby’s chest to hide the giggle tumbling free.
Bea’s throaty guffaw sounds from behind me, low and gentle before she, too, unfolds in a cascade of tittering.
Leo’s eyes widen as more sounds erupt around him, but he grins and begins to chuckle, too.
As the laughter bubbles up in my chest, booming into the cacophony, I feel lighter. Freer. The sound reaches a natural crescendo, pitching and falling with wheezing exhaustion before it peters into nothing.
I confessed my fear to the people who know me best. And they responded with love, compassion, and secrets of their own. Warmth and connection seem to weave through everyone, and I know this is a night none of us will forget.