Page 29 of Penalty to the Heart

So, all I can do is hold his hand, hoping that somehow, somewhere deep in his subconscious, he knows I’m with him.

“Hey,” I say while looking at his gaunt, pale face. “You look about as good as I feel, Jack,” I try to joke, but it falls as flat as my heart feels. “You really are milking this, aren’t you? I mean, I thought I was the attention whore in this family, but you sure are giving me a run for my money.”

But like always, the only reply I get is the deafening sound of the heart rate monitor of his steady heartbeat.

A strong heartbeat is good, I tell myself.

It means he’s fighting.

Fighting to come back to us.

It’s a miracle he’s been able to hold on as strongly as he has.

But Jack was never one to go down without a fight.

I doubt the word quit is even in his vocabulary.

He never quit on me, and I gave him plenty of reasons to do it.

Speaking of which…

“So I guess I should start by telling you that I kind of got myself in trouble again,” I grumble, hating that it’s taken me this long to summon up the courage to tell him what’s been happening in my life lately. “Nichols threw me my own fucking intervention if you can believe it. Looks like I’ve become persona non grata for the club, but hey, you know I never lost sleep over not being liked. Still, it stings that everyone wants to force me to move on and get back to my routine when you’re lying here, unable to do the same.”

I stare at his face and imagine a scowl.

“Yeah, I know. I should stop bitching and just get on with it. But it’s hard when I look onto the ice and don’t see you there. It’s fucking unnatural, Jack,” I start to lament, needing to take a beat before I let my emotions get the best of me.

“You should see the fans in the stands, though. Every game we’ve played since… well, let’s just say that your jersey has been sold out for weeks. Everyone shows up wearing it to every game, and chanting out your name as loud as they can. I know you never liked being the center of attention but even you would be in awe of how much the fans love you.” I offer him a small smile while gripping his hand.

“Still, there’s a championship to win and a Stanley Cup to bring home.” I sigh, disheartened. “You can’t turn on a fucking TV without some sports reporter saying how the Guardians need to win this year as an homage to you. Like you’re gone or something. Like your dea—”

I take in another breath, but it does very little at this point.

“But you’re not gone. You’re here. You’re right fucking here, Jack! How can they talk about you like you’re not? It… just pisses me off.”

I drag my hand over my face and take in a deep breath.

“As you can see, I’ve been angry… a lot lately. If it’s not blind rage that gets me, it’s…”

I’m not sure how much of this is registering with him, but if something is, I don’t want it to be the sound of my anger. Or worse, my pain.

“Anyway, Erin and the girls are doing good. So is baby Donovan. Erin should know the kid’s gender in a few weeks, so you won’t want to miss that.” I smile meekly, glancing over at the white orchids in the room. “But I guess you already knew that since mom came to see you today. She’s doing okay. Or at least she’s trying to,” I explain while purposely omitting the fact that our mother hasn’t been able to look at my face once since the accident.

I don’t blame her, though.

I’ve had a hard time looking at myself in the mirror, too.

But she’s not the only one who I’ve pissed off lately. My best friend, Nate, has also been giving me the cold shoulder. Ever since the day I was pulled into Trent’s office to be given a good telling-off, Nate has been MIA.

But then again, can I really blame him for wanting to distance himself from me?

I’m sure it was a hard pill for him to swallow that his best friend almost died because of me on the same day he got hitched to the love of his life.

Yep, I really outdid myself this time.

“Anyway,” I start, wanting to bypass any talk of our mother and best friend, “I’m supposed to see some head shrink tomorrow. Seems I got a few screws loose up here.” I pretend to bang on my head to get the point across. “Not like you didn’t know that already,” I joke, and still nothing. “Wow, tough crowd,” I mumble, despondently scanning every inch of my brother’s face, wishing he would just open his eyes and look at me.

“It’s okay, Jack. I know this shit isn’t funny. In fact, it’s… fucking terrifying. Just… come back to us, Jack. Life doesn’t make sense without you in it. It feels all sorts of wrong. So stop fucking around and just come back to us, okay?”

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