“What’s going on with you? The last two games and then practice today? I haven’t seen you this distracted in a long time,” he notes. I know exactly what he’s talking about. He means I haven’t been this preoccupied since I first started on the team two years ago. When I had gotten myself into so much trouble with drinking, partying, and fights that my professional hockey career was almost over before it began. I take my gloves off and wipe beads of sweat from my forehead.
“It’s nothing. I just have some family issues that I’m dealing with.” I hope that’s enough of an explanation. I don’t really want to air my dirty laundry to him when I’ve barely processed the last twenty-four hours myself.
“Do I need to be concerned?” he presses.
“No, you don’t,” I answer, my tone flat and unflinching.
“Good, because we’re approaching playoff season, and I need you with us one hundred and ten percent. Take care of it son, discreetly and quickly. Get your head right. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
Usually, I could take the pain and anger I was feeling and put it aside when I stepped on the ice. I allowed myself to miss her at night, alone in my bed, or when I was sharing it with a strangerwhose name I wouldn’t remember in the morning. But aside from that, I tried not to let my brain wander too far into Kendall territory. That rabbit hole was too dark to climb out of. When I first joined the team, I harnessed that rage and loneliness. I let it feed that gnawing, insatiable hunger inside of me. It motivated me to become better. Unstoppable. A formidable opponent, and an even better leader. I wore that chip on my shoulder proudly, always playing like I had something to prove. Now it feels like the only person I have to prove something to is Kendall.
***
Clean,showered,andclothed,I sling my practice bag and gear over my shoulder and head to the parking lot. I step outside the arena doors and into the frigid January night. The brutal wind bites at my neck and stings the bruise forming underneath my eye. Fuck it’s cold.
Get your head right, get your head right. Coach’s words replay in my head on the long walk to my car. If only it were that easy. How could I do that when my head and heart are with her,with them?
I don’t know how she managed to keep this from me for so long. I can’t begin to understand why she thought I would be better off without them; that I wouldn’t do anything but support her. And I’m so fucking angry with her, but I also know that the gaping hole that’s been growing in my heart feels a little smaller right now. Every instinct that I tried to ignore drew me closer to her today inch by inch. Even in the depths of my rage, I still wanted to be near her. I guess that’s what happens when you spend so much time wishing for someone you can’t have. I wanted so badly to hug her before I left, to commit everything about her to memory. Just in case she slipped through my fingers again.
After I stuff everything in my trunk and crank up the heat, I snap a picture of my face and send it to her with the caption “rough practice”.
She responds almost immediately.
Oof what happened?
Let’s just say something has me distracted today.
Something or someone?
Someone, two in fact.
Someone has me distracted today too.
Glad I’m not the only one.
What are you two troublemakers up to?
Just finished bath time.
I’m trying to put him down for bed now
Can you send me a picture of him?
A few minutes later I feel my phone vibrate.
Sure
A selfie of her and Akio appears on my phone. As soon as I open the picture, I feel a distinct pang in my chest. I wish I could reach out and hold him, hug him, tell him how much I’ve missedhim. But I can’t do any of that, one because I’m not there and two because who the hell am I to him? I’m just some random guy he has never met before. This causes my chest to hurt a little more. I flip my phone facedown and clench my hands into fists.What the actual fuck. How is this going to work? I’m supposed to just step in after all this time and be his dad? Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to talk to her anymore.
***
Idon’ttypicallygooutthe night before a game or an early flight. But I made an exception for Aiden since he’s only going to be in town for a few days and I haven’t seen him in months. We planned to meet at Marty’s, a low-key sports bar, and when I walk in, he’s already half a beer deep scrolling through his phone. Large plasma screen TVs are plastered on every wall, flipping continuously through various hockey and basketball games. The general vibe is still calm, most of the patrons people just getting off work. He stands up from the corner high top as soon as he spots me and brings me in for a hug.
“Good to see you man. It’s been a minute.”
“You too, Kenney. I see you didn’t wait to start drinking,” I nod toward his beer as I sit down.