Page 19 of The Unraveling

She nodded. “We fought so much that I called off the wedding twice. I never let on to anyone how bad things got.”

“Really?”

She shoveled another spoonful of Nutella into her mouth. “Their selfhood is so wrapped up in playing that they go through a sort of identity crisis. I remember I suggested we postpone the wedding so he could focus on recovery. Ivan thought I was postponing because I might not want to marry him anymore since there was a chance he’d never play again. Anything I said or did was turned into me not wanting to be with him. I couldn’t make him believe otherwise, because he didn’t believe in himself anymore.”

That sounded very familiar.

“But things got better, obviously?”

Irina nodded. “It took a while. Ivan went to a very dark place for a few months. I wasn’t sure we’d make it. But things got better with time. I’d like to say it was something I said or did that made it better. But he had to find it within himself.” She reached across the table and patted my hand. “Connor will find his way. And you two will once again be the couple that makes everyone else question whether they’re really happy in their own relationship. Trust me. He’ll figure it out.”

I wanted to believe she was right. But something in my gut told me there was more to Connor’s problems than an identity crisis and some self-doubt.

* * *

The next afternoon, I had an hour break between patients, so I went out to get some fresh air and pick up lunch.

“They didn’t have rye bread.” I fished my assistant Sarah’s sandwich out of the brown paper bag and set it on her desk. “So I got you multigrain instead.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and motioned toward my office door. “You have someone waiting for you.”

“Mrs. Trenka is this early?”

“Nope. A certain hot hockey player is waiting.” She picked up her earbuds and pushed one into her ear with a wink. “I’ll be listening to music while I eat. Very loudly. So I won’t hear a thing.”

Good, then you won’t hear us arguing. Connor and I hadn’t spoken since last night, when he’d come home drunk and belligerent, still upset about the birth control. He’d been passed out on the couch when I left for work this morning.

The smell of fresh flowers hit me as soon as I opened my office door. But the visual was the real gut punch. Connor was sitting at my desk, his hands wrapped around the largest bouquet of hydrangeas I’d ever seen. He stood, and my heart squeezed. My beautiful man looked beautifully broken, sadness and pain etched into deep lines that hadn’t been there only a few months ago.

We’d both said hurtful things last night, but none of that was important at the moment. I went to him, cupping his cheeks in my hands and wanting to do anything to take away his pain. Tears welled in my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“I should’ve never made the decision to go back on the pill without discussing it with you.”

He shook his head. “You were right to do it. I’m not in any condition to be a father. I’m a fucking mess, Mer.”

“No, you’re not. You just need to believe in yourself. I know in my heart you’re going to get back on the ice, but even if you don’t, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Connor looked down for a long time. When he met my eyes again, he swallowed. “You were right. The painkillers were making things worse. I didn’t stop taking them when I said I did a few weeks ago. But I’m done now. I had a few left, and I dumped them down the sink this morning. I’m also going to ease up on the drinking.”

Tears streamed down my face. “You’re getting stronger every day. You need to believe in yourself, Connor. You can do this. I know you can.”

He nodded. “We can do this. We’ll do it together.”

Relief flooded me as I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as I could. We stayed that way for a long time. After we finally let go, we shared my lunch and enjoyed each other’s company for the first time in what felt like forever. He left only because my next patient arrived.

The rest of the afternoon, everything seemed a little lighter, a little brighter. After two months of dreading going home, I was actually looking forward to finishing up and seeing my husband after my last patient of the day left.

“Anything we need to talk about?” I pulled on my coat and spoke to Sarah in the waiting room.

She smiled. “Someone is in a rush tonight.”

“Connor is making me dinner.”

“Enjoy. I’m just going to finish up this letter to an insurance company and then I’m right behind you.”

“Good. Enjoy your night, Sarah.”

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