Page 20 of Boarded Hearts

I should be looking forward to Saturday, but I'm not. The Colorado boys know the old Jon, the crazy rookie with a different woman each night, and that’s not who I am anymore. I’m tired of plastering on a façade to meet the expectations of who people think I am based on a version of me that died long ago.

“Good game, man.” Jessie claps my shoulder as he walks back to his bench.

“Yeah, bro, you too,” I reply.

Jensen, on the other hand, is less levelheaded toward the loss, ripping his pads off before ramming them into his bag, not bothering to have them wiped down. “Fucking good game? Yeah right, we played like shit.”

He’s not wrong, we did play like shit. My head has been up my ass for days now, and that feeling of dread has only amassed to the point where I got next to no sleep last night. I tossed and turned, eventually giving up in the early hours, then spent an hour searching for Felicity’s social media. It’s probably a bit creepy, but I followed and added her on every platform I could think of and even threw in a few likes for good measure. She’s private on most accounts which isn’t surprising, but the few pictures that are public are stunning. She hasn’t added me back yet, but I’m trying not to read too much into it. Although she hurried out of my place on Friday night, I don’t think her body language screamed I never want to see you again.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Insomnia isn’t unusual for me, but it has gotten better over the years since I attended therapy. I started seeing my therapist, Ben, around three years ago when my anxiety and depression began pulling me under. I was barely functioning day to day, and I started to find less-than-healthy ways to cope with my troubles. Hitting the drink too hard or working out in my gym to the point where I could barely walk, desperate to numb my spiraling thoughts of loneliness and self-deprecation. I slept with more and more women, searching for affection and a feeling of being wanted.

I think we all look for validation in our lives, whether it be our successes or simply to be wanted and feel valued, and from the outside looking in, I have all of that, including an awesome but small family. So, when I started to take a downward spiral in my mental health for “no apparent reason” and it seeped into my game, the media started to question what could possibly be wrong. This “has-it-all, women falling at his feet, playboy hockey god.” The external lack of validation left me reeling like I had no right to feel the way I did. So, with every bad day, my coping strategies became more extreme, and the compassion I held for myself dissipated altogether.

That was when Zach, the only person I confided in fully, suggested I speak with Ben, a therapist known for working with pro athletes. I’ve come a long way with his help and still see him each week to keep on the straight and narrow. I’ve been in more fights than I can recall, had painful insults fired at me from all four corners of the world, and I’ve had countless coaches tell me my best isn’t good enough. Yet it’s always the silent games we play with ourselves that hit the hardest.

“You coming out tonight, Jon?” Zach shouts from his shower stall.

“I am, but I’ll be wherever Trent and the guys are, so probably the Indigo Lounge. You can join if you want?”

“Indigo, where the fuck is that? Never heard of that one before. But if it sells booze, I’m down. I need to drink tonight’s game out of my system,”Jensen chimes in.

Form an orderly line.

“Okay, meet me in the lobby at nine, and we’ll grab a ride,” I shout over the pelting water streams.

“Can’t we just walk? I could use the extra cool down tonight,” Jensen protests.

“Ha! Yeah, I’d rather not. My legs have had enough exercise for tonight, plus you remember how it was last season. Colorado away games with their boy, Jon, in tow. The press is always hot on that one, and I don’t want cameras in my face if I can help it,” Zach answers on my behalf.

“Yeah, fair point, man. Okay, we’ll see you at nine and catch a ride from there,” Jensen responds.

I turn the shower off and step out into the main locker room. My senses tighten as the cold air hits my wet skin, but I welcome the sensation—anything to take my mind off tonight. Shaking it off, I throw my post-match suit on, forgoing the tie, and head out to grab the team bus back to the hotel.

CHAPTER TEN

JON

It’s ten when we finally make it to the bar.

The press was ready and waiting to take pictures as we arrived which really pissed me off and raised my anxiety levels through the roof. The Scorpions always try to keep their whereabouts private, especially when we head on away tours. But lately, the media has been one step ahead, particularly these last six months, and I’ve never seen it as bad as tonight. Once again, the cynical side of me can’t help but align the timeline with the moment Amie walked into Zach’s life. With her job as an influencer, she travels a lot and, sometimes, she’ll meet Zach on away games, and she’s never alone, often bringing an entourage of bunnies with her. Some of the guys, like Jensen, are welcoming, but I don’t like it. Thankfully, Amie isn’t here tonight, but that doesn’t mean Zach hasn’t told her where we’re staying. Bringing it up with him though would be like a red rag to a bull, and I’ve got no firm proof of her antics, only my suspicions.

“Nice to see you, Jon, and even nicer to turn you over like we did tonight.” Trent nudges my shoulder and winks.

“Yeah, the quicker tonight evaporates from my memory the better. Speaking of which, you want another?” I knock my glass against his empty one.

“Why not, man, cheers.”

I turn back to the barman, who heads straight my way.

“You bought the whole team with you?” Trent asks, casting his eye across the room and chuckling.

“Yeah, funny enough, they all share my need to drink.”

His chuckle morphs into full laughter as we walk toward a booth filled with his teammates. Setting my glass down, I perch on the end of the bench and nod at the guys, some whose faces I know, while others are newer trades.

“Why don’t you head back to Colorado, Jon, play out your final years with the Kings? Get back to playing for a real team.”

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