Page 31 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

Ty: Did I make a mistake by moving here?

Indie: Why would you ask that?

Ty: Myra keeps wanting to move back to Florida. She doesn’t seem very happy here.

Indie: Adjusting will take time—for both of you. I suggest you just show her that she has her dad who adores her and show her how amazing it is to live here. I’m thinking that today’s trip will help you both.

Ty: I hope you’re right.

Indie: I think I am and . . . I’ll make sure to schedule a playdate with my niece Cora. She’s around Myra’s age.

Ty: Thank you.

Indie: No worries. Now, I’m going to send a picture of this couch to Teddy. Maybe we can make it fit in my room.

Ty: :rolling-eyes: emoji

After reading Ty’s last message, I snap a picture of the couch, sending it to Teddy with a quick, “What do you think? Would it fit?”

Her reply is almost instantaneous.

Indie: Love it. :smiling cat face with heart-eyes: emoji Do they have a smaller size, like a lounge chair or a love seat? What about a bookcase? I ordered the bed. It’ll arrive tomorrow at Ty’s house.

I send the pictures of the bookcases I saw earlier. I get another enthusiastic approval from Teddy. She sends me to another store to check out the light fixtures. My cousin wasn’t kidding when she said she’d have me going around to several stores before we had the perfect room.

But does it need to be perfect?

I’m not sure, but this isn’t a room just for me, but maybe for the next person who’ll be staying with Myra, hopefully for several years. After my text exchange with Ty I believe that she needs a lot more than just a person to look after her, but someone who’ll agree to be there for the long run. I’ll make sure we’ll get her that even if I have to stay until next year.

Chapter Seventeen

Tyberius

The hotel room is quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner. I sink onto the edge of the bed with a wince, my left knee creaking in protest. Games like this make my thirty-six-year-old joints feel too damn old for professional hockey.

I press a cold pack to my aching left shoulder, hoping to ease the persistent pain. With my free hand, I grab my phone from the nightstand, realizing I haven’t checked it since arriving at the arena hours ago. A grin tugs at my lips when I open it to find a new text from Indie. Attached is a photo of Myra all cozy in bed, sleepy-eyed but smiling, ready to drift off to sleep.

Indie: When you read this Myra will probably be asleep, but she wanted to wish you goodnight and congratulate you on that amazing goal tonight.

I stare at my daughter’s sweet face. My lips turn into a big smile, I adore my little troublemaker. Moving to Washington wasn’t a mistake, but it probably wasn’t the best timing. I was aware of the biggest change she would be going through. Myra had to go to school full time, so she wouldn’t be traveling with me. And maybe it’s something I should’ve done last year when she was supposed to start preschool.

Fatherhood is difficult, and fucking up is so easy. Since Saturday I’ve been wondering if Indie is right and if I should be reaching out to a therapist. I don’t like to spend much money on . . . Well, anything. Every other minute I keep second-guessing everything I do in my life.

Moving to another team, becoming a father . . . I knew bringing her into my life would be life-altering. Becoming a father—a single father—was a bold and probably risky move for a man who spends so much time on the road and has to dedicate a lot of his time to training.

However, I’ve made it work, because she’s worth it. This little girl changed my entire life and though we’re happy together, for the past few days I’ve had this nagging feeling that there’s something missing in our lives.

Indie’s beautiful face comes to mind though.

What the fuck, Brynes? You have to stop having that woman at the forefront of your mind.

But it’s almost impossible. There’s something about her that makes me think crazy shit that’s practically impossible. I have this urge to text her back something sweet and flirty, yet not overly suggestive.

But I stop myself. She’s a woman who probably likes romance and is waiting for her happily ever after. Things I can’t offer her. However, it’d be good to check on Myra.

So, I text her.

Ty: Thanks for the pic. I can’t wait to pick Myra up from school.

---