Page 84 of Staying Selfless

“Thank you, Al.” I hang up the phone and hop in the Jeep.

I pull Marc’s car up in front of the building’s entrance just as Wes and the team doctor come out with my guy hobbling on one leg between them.

They’ve removed his jersey and pads, leaving him in only his tight undershirt. I would worry that he’s cold right now, but then I remember that Eli is a Midwest native and probably gives zero fucks about the temperature outside.

The guys help Eli into the Jeep as I pull up directions on my phone.

As soon as his passenger door is closed, Eli drops his head back on the headrest, closing his eyes in frustration.

He lets out a long deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Fuck!” he yells, startling me.

I don’t blame him for being angry right now. I’m mad for him.

I wait for a moment as I fiddle with my phone before setting up the navigation and putting the car in drive.

Eli stays silent as he lets out a few intense breaths.

“Eli—”

“Not now, Logan,” he interrupts with frustration. “I need a fucking minute alone in my own mind.”

Staying silent, I continue to drive, slightly taken aback by his tone, but not that surprised. The last time Eli talked to me like this was after his terrible game in front of the Dallas scout, and this is potentially so much worse.

After a moment of reflection, I change my mind.

“No,” I stubbornly state.

“What?”

“The last thing you need right now is to be alone in your mind. And we don’t talk to each other like that. We’ve been down that road before. You can be mad all you want, but you don’t get to take it out on me. Let me be mad with you.”

Eli releases out a heavy sigh. “Fuck, you’re right.” He takes one of my hands and intertwines his fingers with it as I keep my other one grasping the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re literally the only thing that’s right right now.”

We continue to drive in silence, and when we come to a stop sign, I skid a bit on the iced-over roads, coming to a full stop well after the intended line. Thankfully no one else is around, but I really need to get used to driving on these frozen streets.

“Baby,” Eli says. “Not to be a backseat driver right now, but you need to brake way sooner than you think.”

I take my hand back to put them both on the steering wheel.

This is my first winter in the Midwest, and I clearly haven’t mastered driving in it yet. Thankfully Marc’s Jeep has much better traction than my little Civic.

“What if this is it?” Eli softly asks out of nowhere.

I quickly glance over to him, finding him staring out the passenger window.

“What if I can’t play anymore?”

I want to sugar-coat it for him and tell him that everything will be fine. That his ankle is perfectly okay, but I don’t know that it is.

“I don’t think that’s going to be the case, but what if you can’t? How are you going to feel if this is it?”

“Angry.”

I nod my head in agreement because I’ll feel the exact same way.

“But there’s more to life than hockey,” Eli shocks me by saying.

I look over at him, trying to gauge if he’s just saying this to make himself feel better, but the genuine expression on his face tells me that he’s sincere.

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