Chapter 30
BECCA
A week into training camp, the Jaguars play their first preseason game at the Vortex against the Tennessee Tornadoes.
I don’t have plans to go—Theo explained that with the exhibition games, it’s more about the rookies, the coaches trying out different combinations of players to see what works, so most of the veterans won’t play.
Theo might still be on the ice because league rules require that at least eight veterans play in each game so that fans still see NHL-level hockey, but he won’t know until right before, and I get the sense he doesn’t want me to go through all the effort of being there when he might not even dress out.
I can walk to the Vortex from Indigo’s condo—it wouldn’t be an effort at all. But I know he’s feeling a lot of uncertainty about this season. I don’t want to push and mess with his head or give him a reason to worry about me feeling disappointed if I’m there and he doesn’t play.
Instead, I wind up inviting several of the other wives and girlfriends over to Indigo’s for wine and appetizers. We’ll have the game on in the background just to see how it goes, but I’m hopeful we’ll also have a lot of time to talk and get to know one another.
I’m nervous—stupidly nervous. I met mostly everyone at the team dinner last Sunday, and I’ve spent time with Sarah since then. But this time, I’m hosting. That feels big and important, and I want to make a good impression.
“Girl, relax,” Indigo says, taking me by the shoulders. “The food is beautiful, the wine is expensive. You’ve done amazing. Just relax and trust.”
I take a deep breath. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“It helps that your condo is so stunning,” I say. “Thanks for letting me have people over.”
“It’s your home now too,” she says. “You can have people over whenever you want.”
Fifteen minutes later, the living room is full of women, including Sarah and her sister-in-law, Anna, Jordo’s wife, Malia, and Sebastian’s girlfriend, Jenna.
Indigo and Mia told me they’d make themselves scarce, but then Sarah pulls Indigo into a conversation about art, and Jenna and Mia start talking about North Carolina—they grew up just two counties apart—so I don’t think they’re going anywhere.
I’m happier with them here anyway. They’re both great in party situations, whereas I tend to be a little more stressed.
But only because I want everyone to have a good time. And always have a napkin if they need one. And know where the bathroom is, and trust that I did remember Jenna is allergic to nuts, and not forget that there’s cold water in the fridge and cups in the cabinet to the right of the sink.
I also want to have a good time. But I’ll have the best time if everyone else is comfortable.
On the television screen, the Jaguars are taking the ice for warmups. I scan the players, but I don’t see any sign of Theo.
Malia steps up next to me, hovering as I am behind the food table, and helps herself to a cracker and a sliver of the baked brie I made this afternoon.
“Are you nervous?” she says before popping the whole thing into her mouth.
“Oh my gosh, that’s delicious,” she says before I can respond, then she keeps going.
“I remember the first time I watched Jordan play after we got together. It’s so different when you have a specific player to worry about.
Like, of course you want them to win, but mostly you just want them to be safe. ”
My mind jumps back to that night in the hospital when Theo was brought in after his injury. It isn’t hard to imagine how it might have felt had we been together then and I’d watched it happen during the game.
“I got a small taste watching him play in juniors,” I say. “Obviously a much smaller playing stage, but—”
“No, but that totally still counts!” Malia says. “I forgot you guys have a history. Is it totally wild to be back together?”
Sarah looks over her shoulder from where she’s sitting on the couch. She lifts her eyebrows, and I get the sense she wants to make sure I’m okay. I like Malia—she’s friendly and easy to talk to—but I appreciate that Sarah is looking out for me.
I smile, then turn my attention back to Malia. “Wild is a good word for it. It’s weird to have something feel familiar but also completely new at the same time.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I would have fallen for Jordan had I met him when he was in high school,” Malia says. “I’ve seen pictures, and he was seriously so awkward. I have no idea how he made it into the NHL because I don’t think he went through puberty until he was twenty-three.”
I let out a little chuckle. “Theo has definitely grown up some, but he was still pretty adorable back then. Just a slightly more boyish version of what he is now.”
“What was Carter like in high school?” Sarah asks from the couch.
I pick up a cluster of grapes and follow Malia back into the living room, where I perch on the arm of the nearest chair.
“He was a lot like he is now,” I answer. “Steady and kind and responsible. Incredibly nice to everyone.”
She smiles, her affection obvious and endearing. “He told me once that he was too serious. That if not for Theo, he would have been an absolute bore.”
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. Carter was serious in high school. Always the adult of the group. And definitely the one most likely to be the buzzkill.
“I can tell by your expression that you agree,” Sarah says, her voice light. “You can just say whatever you’re thinking. I won’t judge.”
“He was never a bore,” I say. “But … let’s just say we probably got in a lot less trouble because of him. Which, in hindsight, that’s probably a good thing, right?”
“I don’t know,” Malia says. “Sometimes trouble is a lot of fun.”
“Oh hey, Carter is playing, Sarah,” Anna says, and we all turn our attention to the game. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be.”
“He didn’t expect to be,” he says. “He thought they’d pair Theo with Watson and leave him off the roster.”
“That’s what Theo thought too,” I say. “He assumed they’d want him to play to see how he handles a game.”
I scan the players again, just to make sure, but there’s no sign of Theo. Jordan is playing, as is the new guy, Blake, and then Holly is in the net. But those are the only guys I see who I know by name.
A swirl of unease pushes through my stomach. I hope Theo is okay, but here lately, I’ve been less and less certain that he is.
“Hey,” Sarah says, reaching over to nudge my knee. “You okay?”
I give my head a quick shake. “Yeah, just … hoping he’s okay. His recovery has been … I don’t know. He’s had a lot of ups and downs.”
Her expression softens. “There are so many reasons he might not be on the ice tonight,” she says, her tone gentle. “He’s probably perfectly fine.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I say. “He’s been in his head a lot lately. His hand is such a small part of his body, I think it’s frustrating him that it’s having such a big impact.”
“It’s easy to take our motor skills for granted,” Sarah says.
“I broke my wrist once, on my dominant hand, and I spent three weeks feeling like I might never paint again. Logically, I knew I was fine, that I would heal, but it was so frustrating to feel a disconnect between what my brain wanted my hand to do and what my hand could actually do.”
“He’s going to be okay,” Malia says. “Training camp is just the worst. The guys are all stressed, trying to get back into the rhythm of playing again. Dealing with all the scrutiny. But it’ll settle down once the regular season starts.”
“But then the road trips start,” Jenna says. “I’m nervous about those.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Malia says. “You’ve never done this before. How long have you and Sebastian been together?”
“Five months,” Jenna says. “We started dating during the playoffs.”
“You’ll get used to the travel,” Anna says. “You just have to stay busy.”
“I kind of love it when Jordan’s gone,” Malia says. She takes a long sip of wine. “I get the house to myself, I can watch whatever I want, and the homecoming sex is the absolute best.”
“I’ll second that,” Anna says, lifting her glass, and we all laugh.
The Jaguars end up winning the game easily, so everyone is in a good mood when they say goodnight and head home. Sarah is the last to leave, and she gives me an enormous hug. “This was so fun,” she says. “You fit right in.”
“Really?” I ask. “I keep thinking about all the things I could have done differently.”
“Stop,” she says. “Everyone had a great time. And I really need you to send me your recipe for the baked brie, because it was delicious.”
“I totally will. Thanks, Sarah.”
She gives my hand one last squeeze. “Theo’s going to be okay,” she says, and I nod.
“I hope so.”
Forty-five minutes later, I’m in bed reading, waiting for Theo to text.
I have an early shift tomorrow, but I’m still up, hoping I’ll hear from him before I go to sleep.
But then Mia knocks once on my bedroom door before pushing it open.
“Hey. You have a visitor.” She steps to the side, and Theo appears in the doorway.
“Hey,” I say as Mia leaves and closes the door. I sit up a little taller and put my Kindle on my bedside table.
Theo moves across the room and all but collapses on the futon, dropping his head onto my lap. “Sorry to just show up,” he says, his voice muffled by the blankets. He turns his face to the side. “I just wanted to see you.”
I lift my hands to his head, gently running my fingers through his hair. It’s been a minute since he’s gotten it cut, and it’s longer, curling around his ears, and I really love it. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say. “I was waiting up, hoping you’d text, but this is so much better.”
He toes off his shoes and scoots higher on the bed—my bed, he says, the one he brought over from his apartment—and I hand him a pillow. Once he’s settled, I scoot down so I can nestle into his side, and he drapes his arm over my shoulders.
I let out an exhale, feeling my body relax, all my worries and doubts from earlier this evening evaporating in an instant.
I don’t know everything. But I know this is good and right. That he’s here and I’m here and whatever happens tomorrow or the next day or the next, we’ll be okay.
“You’re working tomorrow?” Theo asks, and I nod into his chest.
“Yeah, at seven.”
He runs a hand up and down my back. “I won’t stay long,” he says. “I just missed you.”
I lift my head and lean up to kiss him. “I missed you too. Congrats on the win.”
He stiffens the slightest bit. “Yeah, the guys did great.”
“Sarah was surprised you didn’t play. She said Carter thought you—”
He cuts off my words with another kiss, then gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Can we not talk about hockey?”
I study his expression. There is so much I want to say. I want to reassure him, to make sure he’s okay. I also want him to be able to talk to me. About his fears and his concerns and his worries.
But maybe that isn’t what he needs right now. Maybe what he needs is an escape. A safe place to think about something other than his job.
I lift a hand to his cheek, rubbing my palm over the scruff of his five o’clock shadow. “Of course,” I say, then I kiss him until I’m certain hockey is the last thing on his mind.