Chapter 43 #2
“For what it’s worth,” I went on after a moment, “we knew this would be complicated because you and I are teammates. So we tried to stay away from each other.”
Chris arched an eyebrow. “You did?”
I nodded. “We both backed off and said it wasn’t a good idea. But we just…” I shook my head, suddenly exhausted by this conversation. “We kept gravitating back together. There was a connection there. Something I’ve never had with anyone. And I just couldn’t say no to it.”
He avoided my gaze, jaw working.
“I’m sorry. I honestly am.” My voice was again threatening to shake apart, and I wasn’t so sure I could stop it this time.
Not when I was opening up this vein. “I’ve got maybe three years left on the ice, Chris.
Maybe. And then I have to figure out life after hockey.
I have to figure out who I am once I’m not a hockey player anymore.
” I swallowed hard, not that it helped. “This thing with your dad—it’s the first time I’ve really been able to look beyond retirement and think about a future. ”
“So you guys…” He shifted his weight. “You’re serious. Like, not just hooking up—serious.”
Nodding, I whispered shakily, “I love him, Chris.”
The disbelief in his expression intensified alongside other emotions I couldn’t identify.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “And I know it doesn’t change anything, and there’s no way I can prove it, but—I mean, I guess I could show you some of our texts? But we were planning to tell you after the season was over.”
He swallowed hard. “Why so long? That’s still weeks away. Maybe months.”
“I know, and believe me, neither of us wanted to wait. It’s been stressing him out since the start.
” I pushed out a breath. “He wasn’t trying to hide this from you.
He didn’t want to hide anything from you, and he’s been tying himself in knots because he wanted to tell, but he also didn’t want to stress you out.
Honestly, the thing he’s afraid of more than anything is losing you.
He wasn’t trying to deceive you—he was just scared. ”
“Did he really think I’d be mad?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t know. That was the problem. And in the beginning, we also just wanted to find our footing. Figure out what was going on.” I studied him. “I mean, how long were you dating Jasmine before you mentioned her to the team?”
Chris’s jaw tightened and he shifted his weight again. “That’s different, though. You guys are my teammates, not my parents.”
“Right, but you probably didn’t tell many people until you’d been dating her a little while, right?”
Avoiding my gaze, he conceded with a slight nod.
“Okay, so that was part of it. The other part…” I sighed.
“He knew you were stressed about the baby, and he knows from experience how stressful those first few weeks are. That, on top of playing hockey, which I know from experience is stressful.” I exhaled.
“Honestly, we just didn’t want to overwhelm you. ”
Chris slid his hands into his pockets, still not looking at me.
“I never wanted to cause problems with you and your dad,” I whispered unsteadily. “And I sure as hell never wanted you to find out the way you did. All I know is that I love him, and I want to find a way to make this work. With him, and with you as my teammate.”
Chris nodded slowly.
“I know this is hard for you,” I went on. “I know you’re angry with me and your dad, and I know how much it fucking sucks having the public talk about your personal life.”
He winced.
“We have to be able to coexist on the team, though,” I said softly. “So I’m asking you—what do you need from me to make that happen?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t do anything to get this ball rolling.” I tapped my chest. “I’m the one responsible for it. So that makes me responsible for smoothing things out between us enough that we can still play hockey.”
He studied me, gnawing the inside of his cheek. “I mean… it’s hockey. It’s our job.” He shrugged tightly. “We can do it. Can’t we?”
“We can, but we also both know that there’s no hockey without emotion.
And the other side of that coin is that too much off-ice emotion can fuck up the hockey.
” I paused, debating how many cards I should show.
Given that the crux of his fury was about us lying to him and withholding information, I decided to err on the side of saying too much.
“To tell you the truth, the clock is ticking for us to unfuck our shit.”
His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Gil gave me an ultimatum. He wants us both in his office by noon tomorrow, telling him we can coexist and continue as linemates, or…” I gestured at the door.
Chris froze, and I thought some color drained from his face. “He’s—holy shit, he’s going to trade one of us? Or waive us?” He started pacing in the small room again. “He’ll waive me. There’s no way he’ll let you go, so he’ll—”
“He won’t.”
“How can you say that?” Chris faced me, his expression full of desperation. “I’m a rookie, and you’re… you’re you! Who do you think he’ll let go?”
“I know,” I said evenly. “But—and I’m telling you this because I want you to know Gil isn’t fucking around. If you can’t coexist with me—if you aren’t willing to play alongside me—then I need you to tell me. Here and now. Because if not—”
“Because if not, I’m fucking out of here?” He scoffed. “Awesome. You and Dad get to have your fun, and now I have to pay the price professionally.” With a wet, bitter laugh, he added, “I get to be the one to pay for my dad’s stupid bullshit, just like I did as a kid. What the fuck else is new?”
“No,” I said. “That’s not how this is going to play out.”
“Oh, yeah?” He let the sarcasm drip, and it almost masked the waver in his voice. “And how does it work out any differently? Because there is no scenario where this team keeps me over you.”
“If we can’t play together,” I said, “then I’ll go back up to Gil’s office and let him know I’m retiring.”
“That—” Chris’s jaw went slack. “What?”
“I’m not going to let this affect your career. You didn’t do anything wrong, and over my dead body are you getting traded or waived because of something I did.”
He stared at me, and I thought his knees went slack. With his foot, he pulled out a chair, and he dropped into it. “I don’t want your career ending over this.”
“Neither do I, but that’s what I’m willing to do. This is my responsibility, not yours, and I’m telling you this because I need to be able to tell Gil before he submits names for waivers.”
Chris’s focus shifted to the floor between us, and he gulped. After a painfully long moment, he met my gaze again, and he sounded dazed. “I don’t want you to lose your career. I…” He broke eye contact again, and he chewed his lip.
I cringed inwardly. “I’m not telling you this to pressure you or manipulate you. I don’t want you to suck it up and play alongside me because you think you have to. I just… I won’t let Gil waive you.”
“But you can’t give up your career either,” he protested. “You’re the captain!”
“Which means I’m responsible for this team. And I’m responsible for this whole shitshow. So if there are going to be consequences for anyone, they should fall on me.”
Chris stared for several seconds, long enough I wondered if he’d even understood what I’d said. Finally, he said, “But if we can work together… then no one gets waived, right? No one has to leave?”
“If we can work together. But if you really, truly can’t—honestly, if it’s going to throw you off your game, then I don’t—”
“It won’t.” He pushed himself to his feet, and he squared his shoulders.
“No, I’m not thrilled about all this. And it’s going to take me some time to get my head around it.
And me and my dad need to talk. But…” He shook his head.
“I can keep playing together.” He paused. “I want to keep playing together.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” He straightened a bit more. “If the alternative is you or me leaving the team, then I’d definitely say yes. But also, we’re good together on the ice. I want us to keep that going.”
Tentative relief started to loosen the tightness in my neck and shoulders. “I do too.”
“Do you, uh…” He swallowed. “Are you going to be like, out now? As a couple?”
I searched his eyes. “Will it hurt us on the ice if we are?”
Chris stared at the floor for a long moment, probably thinking it over. I didn’t begrudge him that; this was a lot, and he deserved the chance to work through how he felt about it.
After a long time, he whispered, “No. It won’t hurt us.
” He met my gaze. “It’s weird, but I’ll get used to it.
” With a dry laugh, he added, “I don’t even think I was mad that you guys were together.
It was weird and it was a shock, but the part that pissed me off was how I found out.
And that you and Dad didn’t tell me. That he kept something from me again.
” He offered a tight half-shrug. “I think I can get used to the rest.”
“Okay. Good to know. And… I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”
He nodded. Then he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We, uh… We should get ready for practice.”
He was right—we didn’t have much time before we were expected to be on the ice.
“Yeah. We should. I’ll go talk to Gil, and then I’ll join you in the locker room.”
He flashed a quick if slightly uneasy smile, and then we headed out of the conference room.
At the end of the hall, he continued toward the locker room while I went upstairs to Gil’s office. All the way, my heart pounded with a million different feelings.
I hoped I’d played this right. I hoped I hadn’t made him feel like he was backed into a corner, or that I was emotionally blackmailing him.
I hoped Chris and I really could play alongside each other and not fuck up this team, this season, or Chris’s career.
My career? Well, I’d had an amazing run. If it turned out we couldn’t function and I had to end it now, I’d be sad about it, but I could lie in the bed I’d made.