Page 34 of Lost in You

All the things that scared me before this experience were actually not even scary. I’ve always been scared I’d spend so long chasing hockey records that I’d retire past my prime, with people whispering that it was about damn time. I haven’t had intercourse with a woman in more than a decade because it was always ruined by my worry I’d get her pregnant, which terrifies me. I don’t want to have a kid with some woman I’m not married to and end up being an absentee dad who just sends money and shows up in my offseason to try and make up for all the time I missed.

I can see the headline: Lincoln Rowe, digested by bear in Alaska, leaves behind a massive bank account and fuck all else.

The bear disappears into the woods. I let out the breath I’m holding and start walking again. I have to keep my blood circulating, no matter how much I want to take a break. The few hours of sunlight for today will be over within an hour and I’ll be back in the dark.

My mom always dreamed of visiting Alaska. She wanted to see glaciers. I could send her on as many Alaskan cruises as she wanted now, but she passed away before I went pro and started making great money.

Just thinking of her brings a lump to my throat. I got my work ethic from her and have lots of amazing memories, but her manipulation changed the course of my life. I don’t want the power to ruin someone emotionally, and that’s why I’m so dead set against having kids.

“You are definitely the asshole,” I tell myself as I push forward, my legs burning with exertion. “You’re the asshole for wanting Trinity and for not bringing any food with you out here.”

I’d tell any of my teammates in this situation to nut up and figure it out. I’m the levelheaded leader with absolutely no quit in me.

My voice of reason is starting to creep in, though, reminding me that I can’t wander around in bitter cold indefinitely. I don’t want to go out with a whimper, alone out here. But I may not get a choice.

The last of the day’s sunlight fades away and I get my first wave of true panic. I’m breathing my way through it when I see a faint glow in the distance. I say a silent prayer.

If that’s the cabin, I’ll never ask for anything again. I won’t ask to win hockey games or break records, I just want to live.

I pick up my pace, desperate to find out if it’s the cabin light. The glow gets brighter. It has to be the cabin.

My victory yell sounds crazed. This is different than winning a game. This is my life, and there’s still so much I want to do with it.

I make out the faint outline of the cabin and realize I’m approaching it from a completely different direction than the one I took when I left. I’m damn lucky I found it. Without the light, I wouldn’t have.

As I walk to final hundred yards, it also occurs to me that I wouldn’t have made it without hockey. My legs are exceptionally strong from all the years of skating and conditioning.

When I get onto the porch, I dig the drifted snow away from the door with my hands, flinging it back between my legs. I’m not even finished when the door swings open.

I look up and see Trinity, her eyes brimming with tears though she’s smiling wide.

“Get in here, you asshole! I’ve been worried sick about you.”

I stand up and kick my way through the last foot of snow, stepping through the doorway. I pull my gloves off, my hands so cold I can’t maneuver the zipper of my coat down.

Trinity reaches out and does it for me, sliding my coat off. It drops to the floor and she throws her arms around my neck. Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close.

She’s soft and warm, her curves molding against me. I can feel her crying into the crook of my neck so I tighten my hold on her.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I quip.

I can hear the exhaustion in her laugh. She pulls back and cups my cheeks in her hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Her expression relaxes. “Okay, let’s get you warmed up and I’ll get you some food.”

She takes my arm and walks me over to the fireplace, where a fire is blazing. I sit down on the floor in front of it, the warmth like a soothing balm on my skin.

“How long was I gone?”

“Twenty-three hours.” She puts the quilt from the bed around my shoulders. “I’ve been a mess. Don’t go out there again, Linc. Please.”

“I won’t. I thought I was done for.”

“What happened?” She looks back at me over her shoulder as she walks to the kitchen.

“I got lost. My tracks got covered by snow drifts. I came back from a totally different direction than the one I left in.”

---