CHAPTER NINETEEN MARSHALL
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MARSHALL
I barely slept for two days, even though I was exhausted.
I didn't understand what I'd done wrong.
Even though I hadn't spoken to her, aside from the text messages, I could tell she was angry.
Anger was something I could handle. The confusion I felt over the entire thing was something I couldn't. I'd done something for her, promoted my girl.
I was proud of her, and I wanted to show her off to the world.
I hadn't thought anything of it, but when she messaged me, angry about it, I was lost. When she didn't message me yesterday, I figured she needed a little more time to calm down, so I gave her one more day.
Since I'd gotten up this morning, I couldn't stop thinking about her and found myself going back over our messages, dissecting the words and searching for clues to what I'd done that was so wrong.
Over the course of two days I'd re-read our messages and even called my mother, which led to an hour-long conversation while Jeremy sat beside me on the team bus listening. When I hung up the phone Jeremy cleared his throat.
"Marshall, I hate to break it to you, but while you did a nice thing, I think you went about it the wrong way."
"You think so?" I questioned.
"I know so. Given what you were saying to your mother about Brett, and all the shit he did to Lillah, yeah. While your relationship is different, I think from where Lillah stands, the gesture looks the same."
I thought about what he was saying. He was saying the same thing my mother had said before we'd hung up, only she'd said it better.
Tonight was our eighth game, and we'd returned to Boston early this morning.
I was running on fumes and I sat in the locker room right before the game, unable to focus.
Even though I'd been back for almost seven hours, I hadn't gone home nor had I seen or talked to Lillah.
Coach Briggs had reinforced the importance of tonight's game, reminding all of us it was critical for us to win.
The guys poured into the locker room. Ashford had music playing, and the guys were all talking about tonight's game while going through their pregame routines.
Everything about this moment was normal, except me. I couldn't get focused.
"Marsh, get your head in the game." Jeremy said, looking over at me from his stall. "You get any rest?"
I glanced over and saw him lacing up his skates while I remained wrapped in my towel from my shower earlier.
"I'm good." I lied.
"No, you're not. You haven't slept and you've been staring at your shin guards for the past five minutes. Are you still thinking about the situation with Lillah?"
I rubbed my face with both hands.
"Yep, I can't fix it until she lets me. I get it, she needs space, but it's hard to give someone space when your brain keeps replaying things." I stopped and took a breath. "It's fine man, It'll be fine."
Jeremy stopped lacing his skates and looked at me.
"Is she in the box tonight?"
I shook my head. I'd scanned the team box while we were doing warmups. Everyone was there, talking and chatting like any normal game, but her seat, the one Tara always saved for her, was empty.
"Nope. She's not."
Jeremy's face fell, but he said nothing. He finished lacing his skates, stood up and tapped me on the shoulder.
"You better get your head in the game, Marsh. Come on, get dressed, let's do this." He said, and then he headed for the tunnel.
He was right. I either needed to put this stuff with Lillah behind me or I needed to tell Coach I wasn't playing tonight, which I knew I couldn't do. I finished getting ready, grabbed my helmet and stick, and took off down the tunnel toward the ice, the noise from the crowd growing with each step.
My adrenaline kicked in the moment Florida hit the ice.
They came out hard. Their top line cycled the puck in our zone with patience, and their goalie saved every one of our shots.
I was working hard, but the exhaustion made it difficult to stay sharp.
No matter what I did, everything felt out of sync.
And then it happened. I missed a one-timer, the puck skating off my blade and sailing wide.
The crowd let out a groan, letting me know they felt the same way I did.
We were down two to one at the end of the second period, and the locker room was tense. Coach Briggs made an appearance and pulled me aside. He stood in front of me in the corridor outside with his arms crossed, face unreadable, his voice so low that only I could hear.
"Hayes, we won't be having this discussion again. Whatever is in your head, get it out now. This team needs you right now, not tomorrow, or after you're done sorting out whatever shit you've got going on. NOW!"
God, I hated when he was quiet. I'd rather he be angry because then I would know he wasn't disappointed.
"I know, coach, I'm trying."
He looked at me. "Are you? The guy I saw on the ice out there isn't the guy who's been carrying this team for the past three months. That guy is sharp, decisive and present. The guy I am looking at now is a mess and somewhere else, and he needs to get the other guy's ass back here."
"He's back right now." I said, alarm filling me.
Briggs stared at me, and then he nodded and walked away. The locker room door opened, and the guys made their way back to the bench. I followed, sat down and closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths trying to right myself.
I thought of Lillah telling me she would not compete with the game and that she was the person who would be there when I got home from it.
She had given me permission to be fully present during game time, regardless of what was going on between us or in my personal life.
She wanted me to give this game everything I had, and she wanted me to know she'd be waiting for me on the other side.
She wanted me to be the player I was meant to be, and the fact that we were having our first fight, that she hadn't shown up tonight, that she hadn't spoken to me in days, changed nothing.
Third period was different. Whatever Briggs had said flipped the switch. I won faceoffs. I was closing gaps that had been open all game. I blocked a shot with my shin, and a bolt of pain ripped through my entire leg, but I kept going.
We were tied with four minutes remaining in the game.
The puck came loose in front of Florida's net, and we scrambled.
It came free to my side, sitting there like it was waiting for me to take it.
I didn't hesitate. I moved without thinking, my stick on the puck, quick release.
The shot went high, right over the goalie's blocker and into the back of the net.
The crowd went crazy as the horn blared and the red light spun.
I turned toward the team box, and even though her seat was still empty, I pointed at it anyway. In my mind, she was right where she should have been, there in the box where she'd been every home game since the night I'd asked her to come.
The guys were going out to celebrate the win, but I showered and dressed, then packed my bag and said goodnight to everyone.
I left the boys in the locker room and made my way to the players' car lot and drove home.
I pulled into my driveway, cut the engine, and climbed out, looking over at her house.
It was almost eleven and her lights were still on downstairs. I saw Cooper's shadow pass the window, so I went over, climbed up the steps of her porch, and rang the doorbell. I heard Cooper let out a bark, and then I heard the lock turn.
The door opened and Lillah stood there in leggings and my t-shirt, her hair up in a messy bun. She looked as tired as I felt.
"Hey."
"Hi." she said, leaning against the doorframe, her arms at her sides.
"Could I come in?" I questioned.
She stepped aside and waited while I walked past her. I bent down and gave Cooper a hug while his tail wagged with excitement. I scratched his ears and then made my way into the living room where Lillah already stood against the couch, waiting.
"One second." She said, holding up her hand. "Before you say anything, I need to say something first."
I waited, giving her time without interrupting her.
"I overreacted," she said, her voice shaking.
"Well, not completely. I meant what I said about wanting to build my career on my own; that is not negotiable for me.
It was something I promised myself when I left Brett.
It is one thing I need to be mine because that proves to me I am real and that they are choosing me because of me and not someone else. "
She took a deep breath.
"The way I handled this wasn't fair. You weren't trying to take over, and you weren't trying to make it about you or to establish a claim on my success. You were trying to be a wonderful boyfriend, and I punished you for it because someone else used to use the same gesture as a weapon."
"Lillah…"
"No, please, let me finish." Her eyes were glistening now as she looked at me.
"You're not him, you're nothing like him, but sometimes I confuse the two of you.
I hear his voice every time you're the one talking.
I'm not being fair to you or to myself. So, I am sorry.
I pushed you away when all you were trying to do was help me.
I am so sorry that I went silent on you for two days and that I wasn't in the box tonight when you guys won. "
"How do you know we won the game?"
"I watched it on TV." she said, shrugging her shoulders. "With Cooper. We shared popcorn." She said, a small smile on her face as she patted his head. "I saw the goal and saw you point to my seat, the way you would have if I were there."
I crossed the room in three steps and pulled her against me. She folded into my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist. I felt her body relax against mine as she took a deep, shaky breath.