Chapter 3
THREE
Grey
I hate mornings the most.
It’s like all the pain inside my body settles like a lead weight overnight. I don’t sleep well anymore to start with. I used to love going to sleep. It’s weird maybe, but I loved the routine of getting ready for bed. After whatever busy day or schedule, it was just me and my thoughts.
I’d settle in bed, and sometimes . . . sometimes I’d think about what it would be like to go to sleep with my person. I’d dream of this mystery guy and feel like he was just waiting for me to find him. After my last ex, though, I told myself I wouldn’t date anymore until I retired.
Now it’s hard to get comfortable, let alone fall asleep.
I’m in so much pain by the end of the day.
I knew I’d be sore for a while after my surgery, but no one tells you how mentally and physically draining it is living with constant pain.
It’s never-ending. It takes forever for my body to get tired enough to even fall asleep, then I wake up throughout the night in different stages of discomfort.
And then I do it all over again the next day. I don’t look forward to any of it.
Not that I even look forward to much at all anymore.
For a minute I lie there blinking up at the ceiling, and the more time that passes between myself and yesterday, I just feel worse and worse.
Alyssa doesn’t deserve the stress I’m putting her under, I know that.
She has her own life. She doesn’t need to worry about me.
I’m the one struggling with her moving out.
That’s not her fault, and I’m not her problem.
Then there’s Atlas. I know I fucked up. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but Atlas just doesn’t get this. I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want to hear his optimism.
With the speed and agility of a fucking sloth, I get up. Every nerve ending shocks the breath from my lungs. I’m so damn stiff. My knees are tight. How am I still in this much pain months after surgery?
You’ve been knocked around for the last ten years, dumbass.
With my grip firmly on my end table so I don’t slip and bust my eye on it—yes that’s happened and yeah, it’s about as much fun as it sounds—I slowly swing my good, or goodish, leg over. Then I drag the other. Just bending it sends a piercing pain through me.
I’ve had enough. I can barely even move.
I’m usually a very active guy. I love to hike and fish, I love to work with my hands and build things.
Just last year I built Lianna a small playhouse for their new home.
It’s baby blue with dark-purple shutters.
She picked the colors. Inside she has a little kitchen table, and it’s set up so she can watch her cartoons on her tablet.
My home is surrounded by woods. You can walk down through the trees to a small pond, and with spring coming my way I want to get out there. I want my life back.
Time to mend some broken fences, I guess.
I text Alyssa and tell her I’m sorry about yesterday, then I find Atlas’s contact. My thumb hovers over the message button, but I decide to let that go for now. He’s probably at practice right now anyway.
I have it in mind to go to the game this weekend.
They’re having a Pride night, and I’m so proud of Oli.
I’m not surprised he put it together. Oli’s always been the type of person who gives his all, it’s what makes him an amazing captain.
I wouldn’t like the responsibility, but Oli was built for it. He’s a natural leader.
I miss my friends, and hiding the truth from them is starting to bottleneck.
I’ll tell them, but not today. Probably not even this week.
It’s about twenty minutes before I get a response from Alyssa.
I’m still sitting on the edge of my bed, mentally preparing myself to move, and I grab my phone as it vibrates.
Alyssa:
Hold onto your apologies. I’ll be over in a bit.
What?
I finally get myself up and showered—hello, shower chair.
I will say it’s literally the only thing I don’t mind about this entire thing.
The shower chair is nice and great for sitting in the scorching heat until my skin can’t take it anymore.
I’m supposed to have assistance in the shower, and out, but after the nurse I had who took photos of me . . . no fucking thank you.
I’m finally sitting down to drink my coffee when my doorbell goes off.
I grab my phone, checking the camera and expecting to see Alyssa, but instead I see tiny hands excitedly pressing the buzzer.
My grin is so wide it hurts. “Uncle Wolfy!” I hear Lianna squeal.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. I let them in, waiting in the kitchen.
My leg aches. How has it gotten worse since I got up?
A moment later Alyssa appears in my kitchen, and Lianna runs up to me. “Lianna, be careful. Remember what we talked about.”
She freezes, hands outstretched mid-run, looking back at her mother and then to me. “Momma says you’re broken.”
Ignoring the pain in my . . . well, everywhere, I pull her onto my lap, settling her on the good leg. “It sounds like Momma’s brain is broken.”
“Don’t talk shit about me to my kid.”
Lianna turns to look up at me. “Momma said a bad.”
“She did say a bad.” I shake my head, glaring at my sister, then kiss the top of Lianna’s head. “She’s the worst.”
She nods. “Especially when it’s bedtime.”
“Okay, enough.” Alyssa scoops her up out of my lap. I’m about to say something snarky when I see a man standing awkwardly in the living room, hovering right before the kitchen doorway. He’s playing with his hands and purposely avoiding eye contact with anyone.
His mop of brown hair is a mess, like he ran to get here, and he’s handsome, in a quiet way.
Glasses frame his face. I can feel the anxiety pouring from him.
He’s chewing on his bottom lip, and I see him picking at his thumb with his pointer finger.
He’s tall. Not as tall as I am, but I’d say nearly six feet.
He hugs his thin frame as if he’s trying to make himself seem smaller.
“What’s going on?”
She sets Lianna down and looks back to smile at the man.
She urges him forward. “This is Felix.”
“And who the fu—” I look down at Lianna smiling at me with her missing teeth. “Who is Felix?”
“Felix is your new live-in caregiver. You don’t want a nurse, so here’s the next best thing.” She smiles with zero humor and all fuck around and find out attitude.
“That’s weird because I don’t have a caregiver.” How fast did she find this guy?
Alyssa beams brightly. “Oh, but you do. Come here, sweetie.” She waves Felix over. The man blinks like he doesn’t register she’s speaking to him. He shuffles over to us then reaches out a hand to me.
I stare at it.
Slowly he pulls it away. “Um, hi. I’m Felix.”
“Hi, Felix.” I look at my sister. “No.”
“I told you—”
“No.” I look at him. “Where are your things?” All he’s holding is a notebook and an envelope.
“What?” He blinks.
“Where’s your shit?”
“You said a bad!” Lianna pouts, pointing at me.
I look down at Lianna, then it hits me. I haven’t seen her all month. I mean, I get it, I haven’t been myself, but still. Now it’s clear what Alyssa is doing. “You brought her here so I wouldn’t yell at you! Didn’t you?!”
“Felix, would you mind taking Lianna into the living room for a moment? I’ll be right there. Possibly covered in his blood.” We wait as Felix’s eyes soften on Lianna, urging her into the next room.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I hiss. I didn’t want nurses here for their shifts! Why the hell would I want someone here twenty-four seven? What the hell was she thinking? I don’t want anyone in my space, in my things, poking around my house.
“He’s here and he’s staying. He signed a contract and an NDA. Besides, he doesn’t even know who the hell you are.”
“What do you even know about this guy? What if he smothers me with a pillow in my sleep!?”
“One can only hope,” she grits.
“Aly—”
“No, I’ve had it. You need someone here.
He needs a place to stay. He’s had experience taking care of someone.
He’s been out of work for a while and really wants to get back into the workforce.
We ran a background check, and his record is clean.
He won’t bother you unless you need something, but you need someone here. ”
“This is bullshit!”
“This is the way it’s going to be until you can start taking care of yourself without being a shithead. Or—” She looks away, sliding her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or I won’t bring Lianna here anymore. Not until you get it together.”
“That’s unfair.”
“No, what’s unfair is you not trying to get better.
I know you haven’t been to PT in weeks. Look at your knee, Grey.
That looks horrible. I know what you’re going through is terrible.
I can’t even begin to understand. Help me understand.
I’m here for you. You’ve always protected me, and now it’s my turn. Let me help you.”
I can’t look at her. This is insane. “I’m fine. I just need people to leave me alone. None of you understand this. I lost everything.”
“Everything? Really? Hockey may be your career, but you have a great life outside of it.” They don’t get it. None of them do. To them it’s just a sport, a game, but it’s my fucking life and it’s ending before I’m ready. “Don’t make me watch you suffer like I watched Mom.”
I lean back against the chair, arms folded. “That’s mean.”
“It’s still true.” Her small hand lands on my forearm. “Please, Greyson. Please. Just give him a shot, okay? He needs this too.”
My head lifts at that. “What do you mean?”
Alyssa doesn’t answer me. Instead, she turns back to the living room. “Bug, come say goodbye to your uncle.”
“But it’s Thursday!” she whines, stomping into the kitchen.
“I know, but Uncle Grey doesn’t feel good.”