Page 73 of The Forever Game

“Then who? Where were you? What happened? Tell me exactly what happened!”

Letting out a soft sigh, she dips her head, and it’s only then that I see how truly exhausted she is. She’s pale and spent, gray smudges under her eyes, and I’m standing here like a complete douchebag, yelling at her.

Gripping my mouth, I take a small step back and fight to keep my rage in check. I’m not angry with her; I’m livid with whoever left marks on her skin. But she’s the one getting my fire. She doesn’t deserve this shit, and I?—

I huff, shaking my head and saying as softly as I can, “I’m quitting hockey. I’ll call Coach and my agent tomorrow and let them know. Figure out the best way to get me out of my contract and?—”

“What?” Her head snaps up. “You arenotquitting hockey. Are you crazy? You have the potential to be one of the best players in the NHL. You can’t give that up.”

“I gotta do this.”

“Why?” Her voice is high and incredulous.

My shoulders slump as I puff out the words. “To save my marriage. To protect my wife!”

The room goes still as she absorbs what I just said. I don’t know how to fill this painful silence, so I just ride it out while she scratches the side of her nose, then shakes her head and finally huffs.

“You’re not quitting hockey for me.” She scrapes her fingers through her hair. “This isn’t even a discussion, Ethan. No! I won’t let you.”

“Don’t you get it?” I step in front of her before she can march around the couch and stomp up to our room. Bending down, I cup her cheeks and force her to look at me. “You mean more to me than hockey ever will.”

Her eyes start to glisten. “But it’s your passion.”

“You’remy passion, Mick!” I tap my chest, stepping back as these desperate words fly out of me. “Us. Together. That’s what keeps me going!”

Her expression crumples like she’s fighting tears, her voice wobbling. “You’re not doing this.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No… I won’t let you. It’s your dream.”

“And being an agent is yours,” I argue. “I’ve had my time. It’s your turn. I will drop everything, okay? I’ll go to all your meetings and every event. Even if I just have to stand on the edge of the room and play bodyguard, that’s what I’ll do. Because no one gets to leave marks on my woman.” My voice catches as I point at her arm, and holy fuck, now I’m fighting tears.

Emotions are raging through me in a torrent I can barely control. Seeing Mikayla hurt kills me. Watching her cry kills me. I need to be there for her. I should have been right from the start. I should have?—

“That’s really sweet, but…”

“But what? Why won’t you let me try to fix this? I want to help you. Please don’t push me away. Let me do this for you. For us. I can’t… I can’t lose you, Mick.” Tears line my lashes, and I grimace, blinking away the blurry moisture, desperate to pull myself together.

I don’t cry.

I’m strong.

I need to be strong for her.

She lets out a soft whimper and covers her mouth. I move to embrace her, but she holds up her hand and steps away from me.

It’s crushing, brutal, and I can’t wipe my own tears away fast enough. A few pop free, and I let them trail down my cheeks.

“I haven’t been living my dream life,” she blubbers, tipping her head up to the ceiling. She closes her eyes, and for a second, I freak out that she’s about to ask for a divorce or some shit. Maybe I used to be her dream, but I’m not anymore.

“Mikayla—” I breathe, but she cuts me off before I can say another word.

“I have desperately been trying to make my job everything I wanted, because I didn’t think I could succeed without it. I thought I had to pay my dues, you know? Like I wasn’t worth something better.” She crosses her arms like she’s trying to hold herself together. “But you were right. As much as I hate to say that… you were.” Her laughter is short, watery, and borderline hysterical. “When we first met, I wanted to represent female athletes who weren’t getting enough attention, not work my ass off for arrogant pricks and cocky, handsy athletes.”

“Handsy?” I jerk up straight. “Did that Axel fuck touch you? You said it wasn’t him. Did he try to do something and then grabbed you when you were getting away from him? What happened?” I snap, then suck in a breath and close my eyes. “Mick, I swear to God if he?—”

“It wasn’t him.” Her voice cuts through my panic, then goes small. “It was Ryan. He got pissed with me when I told him exactly what I thought. He grabbed my arm and?—”

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