Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHASE
A couple of days later, I stopped by my parents’ house for a home-cooked meal. Mom bribed me to come over by making my favorite—roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy—and now she was tending to her plant babies while Dad and I took care of the dishes.
“When do you think Mom’s going to give me a break and stop dropping not-so-subtle hints about me giving her grandkids?”
“With how often you’ve talked about Addison since you’ve been back home, basically confirming her suspicions of something between you two?” Dad shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “I’d say probably just as soon as you make a pregnancy announcement.”
“So, I’ve still got a while, then…”
While the thought of knocking Addison up had become a near-constant fantasy since the first time I’d gone bare inside her and every subsequent time we were together—not to mention every time I was alone—that wasn’t our reality.
Not yet anyway. Ever since being snowed in together, we’d been making strides, and things seemed to be settling between us.
But every once in a while, I still got glimpses of her pulling back.
Pulling away. Doing her Addison thing and retreating when shit got too real.
Which was why I hadn’t broached the subject of us continuing this when I went back to Vancouver.
Of finally coming clean to her brothers. To Levi. To the whole fucking world.
“You played quite a game the other day,” Dad said, elbowing me in the side. “How was it being out there again?”
I grabbed the pan he handed me and began drying it off. “Honestly? Fun as hell.”
“Yeah?” He shot me a grin. “I could tell. Looked like you were having the time of your life.”
“I was. I haven’t been able to just fuck around on the ice in years. I missed it.”
“I’m glad you got out there, then. Get back to your roots a bit. It was good to see. Your mom and I love watching you on TV, but nothing beats watching you at the rink I taught you to skate at.”
Before I could respond to that, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I tossed the dish towel over my shoulder and pulled it out to check the screen.
Lindy:
Rumor has it you’re coming back to see the medical team in a few weeks. We’re gonna catch up if I have to pin you to the fucking wall, and you’re going to tell me why you’ve been ignoring every damn one of my texts.
I blew out a sigh and slipped my phone back into my pocket, leaving his text unanswered.
I knew it was shitty to keep ignoring him, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond.
What the hell was I supposed to say? That my knee was still fucked?
That, while I’d had a hell of a good time out on the ice, I’d barely held my own against a bunch of high schoolers?
That I wasn’t sure I wanted to gamble having mobility in my knee for the rest of my life for the chance to play professionally for maybe another year?
That I couldn’t see a way through this? That I had no idea how I could possibly be a contributing member of our team if my body didn’t start cooperating?
“What was that all about?” my dad asked, tipping his chin toward my phone.
I shook my head, reaching for another dish from the sink. “Nothing. Just Lindy checking in.”
“Not gonna respond?”
I lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “Not sure what to tell him.”
Dad hummed, keeping his attention on the bowl he was washing. “You could give him an update about your progress. Let him in on what your physical therapist is telling you or where your mind is in all this.”
I blew out a humorless laugh. “I’m sure he’d love to hear that. My physical therapist reminded me this morning that it took years to fuck up my body this bad, so it makes sense that my recovery is also going to take some time.”
And time felt like the one thing I didn’t have. Whether it was time left in the NHL, time here in Starlight Cove, or time with Addison… It was all slipping through my fingers, faster than I wanted, and I had no idea how to stop it.
“As for where my mind is, I’m not even sure I can articulate it. It’s a clusterfuck in there. Part of me wants to do everything I can to get back on the ice with them, no matter the cost.”
“And the other part of you?”
“Is constantly thinking about life after that and what kind of permanent damage I’ll do to my body if I pursue surgery just so I can keep playing.”
“Nothing wrong with telling him exactly that.”
“Right. Just what the captain wants to hear a couple months after I signed a multimillion-dollar contract. That I don’t know when—or even if—I’m going to be back to play. Don’t know if I want to have the surgery that’ll allow me more time with them.”
“You’re not the first player this has happened to, Chase. There are a dozen other guys going through this right now. But I bet they’re not beating themselves up about it, so why are you?”
I braced my hands on the counter, curling my fingers over the edge, and hung my head. With my gaze focused on the sink and not on my dad, I quietly admitted, “I feel like I failed the team. I failed Addison, too.”
“How the hell have you failed them?”
I breathed out a disbelieving laugh and gestured to my knee. “How haven’t I? Unless I have a surgery I’m not sure I want anymore because of the ramifications, I’m not getting back out on that ice. Not as a professional player anyway.”
Dad shrugged, like I wasn’t talking about the end of my career. “So what.”
“So what?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah, so what. So what if you’ve played your last NHL game.
So what if you’ve just signed a contract you can’t complete.
You paid your dues for that team, Chase.
You worked your ass off for years. Put your body through the damn wringer, day after day, year after year, for them.
And I don’t care how big that contract you signed was, it wasn’t nearly enough for how you’re suffering now.
How you may be suffering for the rest of your life.
So maybe it’s time you stopped trying to make this happen. ”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Maybe playing professional hockey is no longer the path you’re supposed to be on anymore.”
If he’d said that to me months ago, I’d have shut it down immediately.
Not even entertained the thought, because doing anything but playing professionally wasn’t an option.
Had never been an option. It was what I’d sacrificed for, this game that I loved so damn much.
And I was just supposed to leave it behind?
A glimpse of the future flashed in my mind.
I was out there at the resort’s rink again, except I wasn’t playing a pickup game with the varsity hockey team.
Instead, I was teaching my son how to skate while Addison stood on the perimeter, hand resting on her pregnant belly as she watched the two of us with a smile.
I shook the thought from my head and admitted what I’d really been struggling with for months. “I don’t know who I am without hockey.”
“Well, I do.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
“You’re exactly who you’ve been your whole life.
Overprotective brother to your sisters, rock to your mom, the best golfing partner I could ask for, and the biggest supporter of this whole family.
And that’s just who you are to us. Never mind who you are to your friends. To this community. To Addison.”
“If I can’t play hockey, what am I supposed to do with the rest of my life? This is all I’ve known.”
“It might be all you’ve known, but it’s not all you’re good at.
Look at what you did with those kids, not to mention the one you were telling me about who has a shot at the NHL, thanks to your eye.
What you did for the resort—hell, the whole town enjoyed that.
And no one said you had to give up hockey.
There are a hundred different things you could do in the sport even after you hang up your skates professionally. ”
“I’m pretty sure Addison wouldn’t be interested in a washed-up has-been for a husband.”
“Chase.” My dad’s voice rang with incredulity.
“First of all, you’re not a washed-up, has-been anything.
And to tell you the truth, I don’t think Addison gives a single shit about having a hockey player for a husband.
If I had to guess, I’d say she just wants someone who’s going to show up for her.
Consistently. Relentlessly. Someone who’ll be there for her, without fail.
” Dad raised his brows and clapped a hand on my back.
“And there’s nothing that says that someone can’t be you. ”