Page 98 of Mind Pucked

I look at the smile on Amelia’s face and God, I just want to grab her and kiss her senseless again, like I did outside the club the other night. I want so badly to trust her with everything in me, but I can’t completely let go. I know it’s going to take time to fully heal and move on—I’m just not very patient.

I never have been, and perhaps that’s one of my biggest downfalls. She’s just going to have to live with all the parts of me that aren’t so pretty. As I’m going to live with the parts of our past that need to stay behind me. Behind us.

“Daddy!” Hayden squeals as she finally spots me leaning against the doorframe watching them play on the floor.

“Hi, pumpkin, are you having fun with Amelia?” I ask as I kneel down to her level.

She throws her little arms around my neck and hugs me tight as I stand with her in my arms. She’s getting heavier, and I know she’s growing up, but I’ll carry her around as long as my arms will let me. If she wants me to hold her ten years from now, I’ll always find a way to do so…though by then, she’ll be a teenager and likely want nothing to do with me. I smile at that thought, hoping she always remains Daddy’s little girl.

“We’ve been coloring pictures, Daddy. Want to color too?” she asks me, her little hands on my cheeks. “I just got done playing with Legos too.”

“Sure, baby, I’ll color with you.” I walk over to the table and sit her back in her seat.

I take a seat next to Amelia and I’m immediately hit with her scent. It’s light and floral, reminding me of all the time spent close to her. I can’t help but breathe deeper, inhaling it. It’sintoxicating, making me think about the intimate moment we shared in the alley by the club when her scent was all around me.

We were so saturated in the moment that it didn’t matter to either of us that we were in a semi-public place. The thrill of that moment lives on inside of me.

I clear my throat and get my head back into the present, choosing a coloring page while they continue the pictures they’d already been working on.

“It looks like you two have been having a lot of fun,” I say as I start coloring my picture of Elmo.

“We have been. Amelia has such fun ideas. I’m glad you’re not mad at her anymore, Daddy,” Hayden says, never looking up from her picture.

The thought of Hayden being so devastated by this situation breaks my heart all over again. If I can keep this smile on her face forever, I’ll do it.

“I’m glad for that too, Hayden,” Amelia says, her eyes locking with mine.

My heart squeezes in my chest. I lay my hand on top of hers and run my thumb along the side of her hand.

“I’m glad too. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Amelia,” I tell her honestly. “Or you, Hayden.” I nuzzle my daughter on the top of the head.

I watch as Amelia’s eyes fill with tears, and I lean over and kiss her cheek before getting back to my coloring. I realize I need to work on trusting her again, and decide that I’m going to take things one day at a time and do my best to be happy in the moment and see where things go.

“Daddy, why did you make Elmo look like a hockey player?” Hayden’s voice breaks through my thoughts as she giggles loud enough to echo through the room.

I hadn’t even realized I’d done it.

I look down at the paper and sure enough—I’ve colored Elmo’sTickle MeT-shirt in the colors of my Blue Jays uniform. I laugh and lift it up to show Amelia what I’ve done. She smiles and shakes her head.

I’ve even adorned his head with a small helmet and cross bars on the front out of silver and white crayon.

“I guess it really is deep in my soul, isn’t it?” I say as I continue coloring, making sure to get all the details right now that I know what I’m doing.

I finish the picture and move to my laptop on the island in the kitchen.

“Where did you go?” Amelia’s voice calls out from the living room.

“I’m going to check my email really quick,” I say. “Coach is supposed to send me the roster for the camps he’s running for kids who want to learn hockey…I’ve said I’ll volunteer this year.”

“How very unselfish of you,” she teases me, her voice carrying through the doorway.

“You hush or I’ll volunteer you to clean the locker rooms after the kiddos get done.” I laugh, and so does Amelia.

I open my email and see that there are more comments from Goodall, the guy I slammed into the barricade. Ever since the game, he’s been running his mouth online and I have no ideawhat to do to stop it. Of course, social media sends it all to my email for me to see.

I roll my eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath as I read the comments one at a time.

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