Page 30 of Playmaker

Sabrina nodded. “She coached me in major juniors, so I knew her. I reached out and told her the God’s honest truth—that I wanted to leave my husband, but I didn’t have the means, and that I wanted to come back to hockey. I knew I wasn’t ready to play again—not yet—but if I could get out from under my husband’s thumb…”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“Yeah, it was…” She laughed dryly and ran a hand through her wet hair. “So she fronted me enough money to get out and get a lawyer. She promised me it was no strings attached, but I busted my butt for ten months to get back in condition. Once I was, she offered me a PTO, and after I proved at training camp that I was still a solid player, she gave me a one-year deal.”

Jesus. I felt like the worst human being on the planet after hearing Sabrina’s side of the story. There’d been so many rumors and assumptions about her—every one of which I’d swallowed whole—and no one had come to her defense. “Did your family help you get away from your ex?”

Sabrina shook her head again, staring at the lockers with unfocused eyes. “My mom and sister supported me a lotemotionally, and they encouraged me to leave, but they were both struggling financially.”

“Really?” I stared at her. “Your dad is richer than God, but they’re…?”

She nodded. “He and Mom had a prenup, and Dad’s lawyer threatened to turn it into an ugly custody battle if she didn’t back down on splitting assets. She was scared to death of losing custody of us, especially my sister and me, so she took a small settlement and walked. The money she does have now is from working a regular job all these years.”

“Holy shit. Your dad doesn’t sound like, um…”

“Like the super nice family man who adored his kids and was devastated when his bitch of a wife took them and left? Yeah, I know. Amazing what does and doesn’t make it into the press.” She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Sort of like how everyone still thinks I left Ty because I decided to become a lesbian.”

That rumor had definitely made the rounds. As had the photos of her with the woman she’d dated—or at least hooked up with—after her divorce. “So you’re bi, then?”

“No, no, I’m a lesbian.” She reached up to knead the back of her neck with both hands. “Just a little slow on the uptake, I guess. And then before I had a chance to really come to terms with it and come out to my family, someone outed me.” She stared up at the ceiling, still rubbing her neck, and I thought her eyes welled up again. “God, I would absolutelykillfor some goddamned privacy.”

“I bet.”

“Everyone thinks being a McAvoy must be the greatest and most privileged thing ever.” She lowered her hands and turned to me, and yep, there were fresh tears clinging to her lashes. “But all it’s ever brought me is public humiliation.”

If I’d felt like an asshole before… Jesus.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “For all of that, and for…” I chewed my lip as heat rose in my face. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She stared down at her wringing hands again. “You didn’t know. Most people don’t. And there’s a ton of rumors and bullshit backfilling what everyone doesn’t know, so theythinkthey do, and…” She waved a hand in a heavy, tired gesture.

“Still. I’m sorry. It’s… I obviously didn’t have the whole story. None of us did.” I grimaced. “I should’ve known what we all heard was…” I trailed off, not sure what to say.

“It’s all been repeated so many times and so many ways…” She shrugged. “I can’t blame anyone for believing it. And it isn’t like I’ve ever done much to change the narrative.”

“Why not?”

Another shrug, this one heavier than before. “The handful of times I’ve tried, I just get painted as a spoiled brat. The only thing I’ve ever been able to do to prove my dad wrong about anything is to play hockey like it’s what I was born to do.”

I nodded as she spoke. “I’m surprised your dad hasn’t changed his tune about you playing. Even if he’s got a stick up his ass about women’s hockey, you’re…” Why was I blushing? Because I felt like I was blushing. “You’re really good.”

A faint smile curled her full lips, but it faded fast. “I’d love to think he’ll come around one of these days. But if the World Junior Women’s and Olympic medals haven’t convinced him…” She trailed off into a sigh.

“Ugh. Yeah. That sounds like someone who’s seriously committed to his narrative.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered. “Plus, even if he could get past me having the audacity to be a woman playing hockey, he hates my playing style. That’s literally the only thing he’s ever acknowledged about my involvement with the sport—that I shouldn’t do it, and that my playing style is wrong.”

I blinked. “What? Why? What the hell is wrong with the way you play?”

She gave another ghost of a laugh. “Because I’m a playmaker. If I’m that happy racking up assists, I should just play defense and be done with it.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I said, rolling my eyes. “The points benefit the team exactly the same way whether you get the goal or the assist. And you get a ton of goals, too!”

“I know, but he was always out for glory. And apparently if I absolutelymustsully his name by playing women’s hockey, I should at least be a goal scorer more than anything else. That would be almost respectable in his eyes.”

“But he’d still shit on it.”

“Absolutely.” Sabrina’s shoulders sagged again, and she wiped a hand over her face. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was play hockey, and I’ve done that. I’m doing it. It just doesn’t seem like too much to ask for my dad to be proud of me too.”

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