Chapter Twelve #2
I’ve played on teams I didn’t like, I admit.
Where the locker room felt like a war zone, and it was every man for himself.
When I first started taking my mental health seriously, there were a few players who called me weak, didn’t understand the seriousness of what I was going through.
Being a professional athlete is awesome, but it comes with its downsides too.
Pressure being one of them and the one I struggle with the most. I left my last team because they didn’t support me, or back me up, when I was going through a rough patch.
They benched me and made it no secret that they were looking to trade me.
That was my breaking point, and I knew I deserved better.
I’m just lucky Toronto saw something in me.
That’s great.
It is, I say quietly.
She watches me for a long second. You look…different when you talk about hockey.
Different how?
Lighter, she says. Your whole face brightens.
That’s because hockey is easier than real life, I say before I can filter it. On the ice, the rules are clear.
Her expression softens. You sound like you’ve thought about that before.
Once or twice.
We lapse into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by Joey’s occasional laughs at the screen and the scrape of utensils against plastic.
I’m sorry suddenly bursts out of her. I must look as shocked as she feels because her eyes are wide.
About what exactly? I ask hesitantly.
She licks her dry lips and takes a short, quick breath. I’m sorry for not texting you back.
Ah, I say, thrilled that she’s the one bringing this up.
It’s a shitty excuse, she begins, but I got too in my head about who you are and how we met.
I thought, maybe, you asked for my number because you felt pressured, or maybe you were taking pity on a single mom.
I open my mouth, needing to tell her that’s not the case, but she cuts me off.
I know now that’s not the reason. Truly, I do.
I’m just…I’m just not used to people wanting to be in my life.
And me texting every day for almost two weeks wasn’t an indication that I wanted to be part of your life? Even in some small way?
She gives me a grimace, her cheeks going even redder. I was coming around to that conclusion right before I got sick, and then…well, you know.
Something in my chest loosens when she says it out loud. Not because I’m glad she doubted me—God, no—but because she trusted me enough to let me see the mess behind the silence. This wasn’t disinterest or her playing games with me. This was fear.
The idea that she looked at me—at what could be building between us—and assumed pity instead of want makes my stomach twist. Not because my ego’s bruised, but because someone once convinced her she wasn’t an obvious choice.
And yet there’s relief threaded through the anger. She didn’t pull away because she didn’t feel something. She pulled away because she felt too much. Because connection sends her spiralling into what ifs and worst-case endings.
I recognize it instantly—the overthinking, the self-protection masquerading as logic.
It’s the same voice that once told me to muscle through my anxiety instead of naming it, the one that said if I ignored it long enough, it would stop costing me things I loved.
It didn’t. And neither will hers, not if she keeps carrying it alone.
What gets me most, though, is that she’s here now.
Apologizing. Explaining. Letting me stand in this space with her instead of shutting the door quietly and locking it behind her.
I don’t feel frustrated. I feel honoured.
And fiercely protective. Because if a few unanswered texts can send her this far into her head, then I want to be the steady thing that proves she doesn’t have to disappear when it gets loud in there.
I don’t want her to doubt whether she’s wanted.
I want her to know, without question, that I’m here because I choose to be. Every single day.
I reach for her hand, quickly giving it a squeeze before letting it go.
I appreciate you telling me that, Eddie. And I’m happy you understand now that I’m here. I’m in this because I feel a real connection to you. I want to get to know you and see what happens.
I know that. Now, she chuckles, low and hoarse.
Good.
What’s that thing in the bag? Joey suddenly asks from his spot on the floor. I’d forgotten he was so close.
Umm, oh. That’s a humidifier.
Did you have one already? Eddie asks with suspicion in her voice. I don’t want to lie to her, so I pretend I didn’t hear her and stand to grab the new device for her.
You looked up pneumonia care, didn’t you, she accuses head to her room, ready to set it up, her voice sounding worse after talking so much tonight.
I respectfully decline to comment.
She shakes her head, but there’s a tiny smile tugging at her lips. You’re ridiculous.
Yeah, I say lightly. But useful.
For the rest of the evening, we all stay on the sofa, relaxing. At some point, Eddie falls asleep, and her legs stretch out across the couch and onto my lap. I smile to myself and rest my hand on her ankle.
Joey and I decide quietly to watch a hockey documentary on my good friend Max Speed Dawes. I’ve watched it before but find more delight this time around, answering all of Joey’s questions about Max and the team. I don’t give away any trade secrets, but it’s fun joking about my captain.
When we get to the part where Max confesses his feelings, Joey groans and rolls around on the floor, disgusted. I burst out laughing, thinking about the future and how I can’t wait to watch him explore the emotions of his first crush.
Wait. What? That was a serious thought. My hand stills on Eddie’s leg.
A long-term, serious thought. I wait a beat, thinking that my body will catch up to my brain and freak out, but the only reaction I notice is the rapid beat of my heart.
It’s not in panic mode. It’s beating fast because I like the idea of being with Eddie and Joey for the long haul.
The thought of being able to experience new turning points with them appeals to me. And I can’t get the idea out of my head.
I want to be a partner to Eddie and support her and Joey through all of life’s big and heavy milestones. And I want them by my side too, supporting me, because who knows what the future holds? I just know I want them with me.
I’m stunned at this realization and let out a long exhale of relief. Eddie stirs at my noise but doesn’t wake up completely.
She’s not gonna like that she fell asleep, Joey whispers, noticing me looking. She always says she has to ‘stay on top of things.’
I’ll take the heat, I murmur back, giving him a wink. Doctor’s orders.
He nods seriously. You’re kinda like a doctor. You know a lot of stuff.
I huff out a laugh. Not even close, bud. I know a lot about the human body from having to train mine in a specific way, but I’m nowhere near as smart or resourceful as a doctor.
He shrugs. You act like one. For us, anyway.
My throat tightens unexpectedly. There’s something so innocent yet so deep in that statement.
Joey, I’m going to be honest with you. Man to man, okay?
He nods back, eyes narrowing like he’s steeling himself for bad news.
I like your mom. I like you too. And I want to spend more time with both of you in the future and be a friend you can rely on.
My schedule is kind of crazy. I travel a lot, but just because I’m not here every day doesn’t mean I don’t care, okay?
I’m going to help look out for you and your mom from this point forward.
And we’ll look out for you too, right?
Right.
He thinks about that for all of a second before nodding. Does that mean you want to date Mom?
If that’s something she wants too, then yeah.
Oh, she wants it. I see the way she stares at you when she thinks we’re not looking.
She does, huh. The smile on my face is smug. That’s excellent information to know.
After a while, I check the time and am surprised to see how late it is.
I really should go. Morning skate waits for no man, not even one who’s falling headfirst for a tired, stubborn X-ray technician and her kid.
Tomorrow is also a school day, and I’m pretty sure we’re nearing Joey’s bedtime.
I don’t know much about kids, but I’m sure a fourteen-year-old should be in bed before eleven thirty.
I mention to Joey that it might be time to turn off the TV and wind down for the night, and he agrees pretty easily. I get a fist bump and a wave over his shoulder before he disappears down the hall.
I get a kick out of how comfortable he is with me in the house. Slowly extracting myself from under Eddie’s legs, I debate whether I should move her. She looks cozy where she is now, with plenty of room…so I leave her. After grabbing another blanket off her bed, I cover her with it on the sofa.
Gently, I tuck a strand of hair off her face, noting how soft it is. I’ve wanted to do this exact thing since the moment I met her, and it’s as great as I imagined. She sighs, then readjusts. Giving her a soft kiss on her forehead, I step back and begin tidying up the mess from dinner.
Once everything is done, I check on Eddie one last time. I scribble a quick note and leave it on the coffee table, where Eddie will find it when she wakes up.
Text me when you’re up. If you don’t, I’m coming back with more soup. — S
At the door, Joey appears in sleep shorts and walks me out.
You’ll come back, right? he asks, trying for casual and landing somewhere in the neighbourhood of vulnerable.
Definitely. I duck down to his eyeline. I told you. I take care of my people.
He chews his lip. And we’re your people now.
Yeah, I say simply. You are.
He grins, eyes bright. Okay. Cool.
Lock the door behind me, yeah?
On the drive home, my muscles ache from practice, but it’s that good, used feeling. My brain feels quieter. Like something important has finally clicked into place.
I have two more practices before the home opener next weekend. A big season is in front of me. The kind of pressure that would’ve swallowed me before.
Now?
I’ve got something else to anchor me.
Two someones, actually. And I’m not mad about it at all.