Chapter 24
STELLA
We put ourselves back together and lay on the couch in each other’s arms.
“My cramps do feel much better.”
“Good.”
“It feels like a giant hook stuck up inside me trying to pull out all my innards.”
“Ugh. I’m sorry. Women are so strong.”
“Oh right, you have sisters.”
“Yeah, and they weren’t shy about letting me know they were PMSing.”
We lay in lethargic silence for a moment.
Then he says, “That’s…” He hesitates. “That’s the first time I’ve ever done that in front of a woman.”
This surprises me. “Yeah?”
He swallows, his body tightening against mine. “Yeah. When I was a rookie in junior hockey, me and a couple other guys got put through this ugly hazing ritual.”
My heart kicks and my stomach tenses. “Oh no.”
He exhales. “Yeah. It was so fucked up. Humiliating.”
I close my eyes against the sting of tears. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Oh God.” I lay my palm on his face. “That’s awful. I thought hockey was getting better than that.”
“Not then.” He clears his throat. “I was stupid enough to go to my coach and tell him what happened.”
My stomach feels even more nauseous. I pull in a breath and let it out. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I mean, he didn’t do anything about the hazing. He listened to me, thanked, me, showed me out of his office. Nothing ever happened to the guys who did it. Except…” He stops.
My mind is leaping ahead, imagining horrible scenarios.
“He took it out on me. Swearing at me, calling me names. One time, he slashed my stick in half during a practice. He told me I was too soft and he wanted me to fight more. He made a couple of us fight in practice. It was so fucking stupid.”
I swallow past the anguish lodged in my throat.
“So you got punished for telling the truth.”
“Basically, yeah.”
“I’m sorry you went through that. Is that… is that why you’re reluctant to talk to your coach about Bish and Sammy?”
“I guess, yeah. In hockey, it’s drilled into you that you shouldn’t make waves.”
“I get it. The “code”. It’s important to play as a team. But sometimes, that’s not healthy. You need to be able to speak up when you see something wrong.”
“And… the worst thing was… I did see something wrong. A couple of months later. It was happening to someone else. It was worse. And…” His voice chokes up. “I didn’t say anything.”
My eyes are wet. “Jayden.” My heart aches for him, for the teenage boy suffering because of a toxic ritual.
“I was afraid to tell my parents. I knew they’d do something and it could make things worse. The league has all the power to make or break your career. I also… didn’t want them to know how miserable I was.”
“As parents, that would be devastating.”
“Yeah. But I did tell them. I couldn’t play for that coach anymore. They wanted me to quit hockey altogether.” He rubs his eyes. “But in the end, they talked to the team and I got traded to Brandon. It was better. I took a couple of university courses and tried to put it all behind me.”
“I don’t think you can ever put something like that totally behind you.”
“No. You’re right. I think I told you one of the things I talk to kids about is bystander intervention. It happens too much. But a lot of kids don’t know what to do. Giving them the skills helps.”
My heart works in painful beats. “That’s a wonderful thing to do.”
“I still feel so much guilt… I guess I’m trying to make up for my weakness.”
“That wasn’t a weakness!”
“It felt weak. I was scared. And I felt ashamed.”
“You were a kid. There were adults there who should have known better. They’re the ones who were weak. Cowardly. I hate that for you.”
He gives a jerky nod.
“Does it help? Talking to kids about that stuff?”
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “It does. It does help to believe maybe now I’m helping prevent something from happening to someone else.”
“I know you are.” I kiss his cheek. “You’re a good man. You’re strong enough to overcome that bullshit. Brave enough to talk about stuff like that. I’m… I…” I stop.
Something in my chest feels swollen and tender. My stomach is rock hard and I gulp down a few breaths. I’m afraid.
Please don’t let me fall in love.
“I should go,” I say without moving.
“Yeah. I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know. But I will. Frank needs to go out and pee before bed anyway.”
“Okay.”
I make it home despite the shakiness in my legs and the ache in my stomach.
“I won’t come in,” Jayden says on my front steps. “Betty’ll get all wound up.”
I smile. “That’s true.”
“Thanks for listening to me. Sorry I was such a downer.” His eyes are searching, cautious.
I move my head side to side, holding his gaze. “Not a downer. You can talk to me about anything.”
“Yeah.” He strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “I feel like I can. I’ve never told anyone about that but my parents.”
“Thank you for trusting me,” I whisper.
He bends his head and kisses me.
I kiss him back, our mouths clinging in a sweet, heartfelt kiss. I want him to know that I think he’s brave and strong and honourable. “Truth and courage are hard,” I whisper to him. “But they’re never a weakness.”
When I eventually get into my bed and the room is dark, I pull Betty into my arms and let the tears fall.
I hate what happened to Jayden. I hate that he was hurt.
I hate that he was bullied. I hate that he feels like he did something wrong.
It makes me burn inside, like red-hot lava is bubbling inside me. Right now, I feel so close to him.
Please don’t let me fall in love.
I watch the game Tuesday night. They’re playing at home against Winnipeg. It’s a pretty good game.
It’s tied at two in the third period and Winnipeg starts to dominate, hemming the Orcas in in their own end. They’re trying hard for the go ahead goal. I sit on the edge of my couch, watching. Then Moosetail takes a hooking penalty.
“Shit!”
That’s not what we need right now!
Jayden’s on the ice for the penalty kill.
We win the faceoff in our own zone but then lose possession.
Damn. Can’t get it out. I watch as Winnipeg passes the puck and passes and passes, and then someone shoots at the net.
Jayden’s between him and the net and he goes down on one knee to block the shot.
Success! Except he’s down. And he’s not getting up.
My heart lurches.
“Oh God.” I cover my mouth with my hands, watching.
Still down. He tries to use his stick to get up but right away, two of his teammates are there, one on each side of him, helping him up. A trainer comes running out. I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
They help him off the ice. He’s not putting any weight on his right leg. And he heads straight down the tunnel.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Why does he do that? Blocking shots is so dangerous!
Okay, I know he has to do it. Even after taking a puck in his man pouch that time. I don’t have to like it, though.
They announce a little while later that he won’t be back for the rest of the game. But somehow, the Orcas use that to motivate them, maybe, and score with about four minutes left in the period to go ahead, and they then hang on for the win. Well, that’s one good thing, anyway.
Should I text Jayden to see if he’s okay? What if he’s not? What if they’re rushing him to the hospital at this very moment?
I jump to my feet, pacing around as they announce the three stars—one of them is Jayden! Dammit! He was playing great, but at what cost?
I know I don’t have the right mindset here. I’m more worried about Jayden than the team or the win. What kind of fan am I?
I’m a fan of Jayden.
I twirl a piece of hair in my fingers, feeling like a corkscrew is twisting in my stomach.
“I’ll send a text.” I grab my phone and drop back onto the couch to type in a message. Then I toss my phone down again. I know he might not be able to answer right now, but when he can, he’ll see it.
I turn off the TV, take Betty out for one last pee before bed, then go upstairs.
I’m in bed when my phone chimes. I snatch it up and peer at it.
Jayden
Hey I’m okay
I blink a few rapid bats of my eyelashes, then quickly type again.
Stella
Really? That looked bad
Jayden
Nothing broken, I had x-rays. Bone contusion
I let out a breath. Okay. That’s good, at least.
Stella
Are you in pain?
Jayden
Not with the drugs they gave me
Stella
Are you home?
Jayden
Yeah Cammy and LG brought me, couldn’t drive.
Stella
I’ll come over.
It takes a few seconds for his response.
Jayden
No that’s okay. I’m just gonna go to sleep.
I suck on my bottom lip. I feel an urgent need to make sure he’s okay.
Stella
Are you in bed?
Jayden
On the couch. Can’t do the stairs.
Stella
I’m coming over.
Jayden
Stella no
I ignore him and throw back my duvet. In a few minutes, I’m dressed in sweats. I trot downstairs, followed closely by Betty.
I look at her.
“Okay, fine, you can come, too.”
We hurry down Richards Street to Jayden’s condo. He buzzes me in and I carry Betty in the elevator to the twenty-second floor, then hustle down the corridor.
He’s already at the door, opening it for us.
There’s a moment of commotion as the dogs come unglued with excitement.
“You nut,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“You can’t get upstairs!”
I follow him as he limps back to the couch, then hover over him. “What do you need?” I eye his clothing. He’s still wearing the clothes he must have worn to the game. “Pajamas?”
He sighs and shoves a hand into his hair. “Okay. Sure.”
“What else?”
“Some pillows? I’m supposed to keep my foot elevated.”
“Right.” I take in the compression bandage on his foot. There’s an ice pack on the table but when I reach for it, it’s warm. “You need more ice.”
“Yeah.”
“On it.”
I zip around his condo, switching out the warm gel pack for a cold one, then finding a pair of flannel pants and T-shirt and some pillows. I grab the comforter off his bed, too. If he’s staying downstairs, he’ll need something.
He changes his clothes with minimal help from me, then I get him all comfy with pillows and blankets and ice. And then a cold drink because he’s thirsty.
I sit on the floor next to the couch. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
“Well…”
“What?”
“You know how an orgasm helped your cramps?”
I stare at him. “No.”
He laughs. “It might help. Can’t hurt.”
“You’re high on OxyContin. I would never take advantage of you that way.”
“Damn.” He closes his eyes. “Fuck. I’m tired.”
“I’m sure.” I lean over him to run my fingers through his hair.
“That feels nice.”
I smile and stroke his hair.
“Come up here.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s fine.”
I carefully stretch out next to him and he slides an arm around my waist.
“I need more Oxy at two. And the Naproxen. I set the timer on my phone.”
“Okay.” I adjust a pillow beneath me.
Soon his breathing slows and his body relaxes against me.
I’m relieved he’s okay but I still hate it that he’s hurt. Will he be able to play? Their next game is Friday night, in Charleston. My mind keeps racing and it takes a while before I fall asleep.
His phone jangling wakes me up. I carefully roll off the couch. His bottles of pills are there on the table but I get him a glass of cold water. I perch on the edge of the couch and touch his face. “Hey. You awake?”
“Mmm.”
“Here’s your pills.”
“I don’t need them.”
I frown. “Yes, you do.”
“I don’t like taking those things. They’re addictive.”
“I know, but you need it. And with this type of painkiller, you can’t wait. You need to take it now. And you need the anti-inflammatories.”
He grumbles under his breath but props himself up and downs the tablet.
“Are you hungry?” I ask quietly. “Need the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I need to take a leak.”
He’s strong and gets up off the couch without help. I let him put some of his weight on me as he hops to the powder room on this level.
He pauses at the door and smirks. “Want to hold it for me?”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Go. Drain your dragon, or whatever.”
He laughs and enters the bathroom.
I go back to the living room. The dogs are both sleeping, Frank as usual on his back. God, they’re cute.
We both sleep another six hours, which is amazing.
I send Felicity, my assistant, a text to let her know I may not be in, or I’ll be late, and ask her to reschedule a meeting.
I make breakfast for us: scrambled eggs, multi-grain toast, half a grapefruit each.
Jayden sits at the table to eat, then goes back to the couch to elevate his foot.
“I think it’s even more swollen,” he complains, glaring at his foot.
“Did they say that would happen?”
“I don’t know. I barely remember anything. Fuck, that hurt. It felt like my foot was on fire. Thought I was gonna puke. I was sure it was broken.”
I wince, feeling sympathy pain in my belly.
“Did they say how long it’ll take to recover?”
“Maybe a week. But I might be able to play sooner than that.”
I make a yikes face.
“You know what really pisses me off? Moisey and I were supposed to stay after practice today to start working on my positioning.”
“Oh, shit.” I stare at him in dismay.
“Yeah.” He exhales a sigh gusty enough to blow my hair back. “That’s on hold now.”
“Ah. I’m sorry.”
“Frosty owes me a beer,” he mutters.
“I’d say a case of beer.”
“This fucking sucks. What am I supposed to do?”
“Watch TV? Read a book?”
“I’m not a very good patient, am I?”
“Well, now that you mention it…”
“Sorry.”
“You’re fine. You’re in pain and pissed about it. I get it.”
He eyes me. “Thanks. And thanks for coming.”
“Why didn’t Cammy or LG stay?”
“I told them not to.”
“Of course.”
“Oh hey, I can play Forgotten City. Can you get the game controller?” He directs me to get things set up. “Want to play with me?”
I purse my lips. I could try to do some work. Nah. “Sure. Let me take the dogs out first.”
I do that, and then we pass the morning in a secret underground city during the Roman Empire. I’ve never played this game before, but it’s cool. I end up passing the whole day with him. Felicity calls about a couple of things, sounding confused that I’ve taken the whole day off.
When I take the dogs for another walk, Jayden complains, “I want to come with you.”
“Do you have a wheelchair?”
He scowls at me.
Nope, not a good patient.
By evening, he thinks he can do the stairs. I make sure he’s set up in his bedroom with pillows and ice packs and meds and a jug of water.
“Thank you.” He takes my hand. “Sorry I’ve been a grouch. I appreciate your help, really.”
“You don’t like needing help.”
His smile is lopsided. “Nope.”
“I’ll go home now.”
“I don’t think I should be left alone.”
I side-eye him. “Really?”
“My foot still hurts.”
“Ah. Well.” I lean over to smooch his lips. “I can’t fix your foot. But I can give you a blow job and make you forget about it for a while.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”