Page 27 of Broken Promises

“I’m so sorry!” I pant, running up to Maggie, where she’s standing at the entrance of the arena. “We hit traffic. I made my driver let me out and ran here.” I double over and grab my knees, sucking in air.

“Let’s go. We missed the first period and . . .” she pauses and bites her lip while dragging me through the arena and to our seats. She barely stopped long enough for someone to scan the tickets on her phone.

“What? What’s happening?” I ask, having mostly caught my breath. My hand is still in hers, and I’m letting her lead because she seems to know where to go.

“Your husband is kind of playing like complete garbage. He’s missing passes and skating like someone filled his skates with cement. They’re down two to zero already.”

My eyes widen in alarm. “Is he injured? He didn’t mention an injury. I talked to him right before I went on stage tonight.” I know his knees have been bothering him. He has ice on them more often than not.

“I’m not sure. I was watching the game on my phone while I waited. I wasn’t close enough to tell.”

We find our seats just in time for the start of the second period. I watch for all of a few seconds before I see what’s she’s talking about. Declan manages to miss an easy pass from Ivanov and get checked pretty hard into the boards in the first minute of play.

“What the hell is going on with him?” I mutter.

“He’s overhyped, that’s what.” I turn to the man next to me. The asshole is in a San Diego jersey.

“Oh, is he? Is that what you were saying last year when he was the one leading the team in goals? Or maybe it was when he secured the playoff spot? No thanks to the rest of your shit team.”

“I. . . Well, he, uh — you see the thing is,” the man stutters, cheeks turning red.

“The thing is, he gave nine years to San Diego and suddenly he’s the villain because he’s now with Boston. Grow the fuck up.” I turn back to the game in time to watch Declan shoot and miss wildly.

“Maybe there’s something going on with his eyes,” Maggie says, watching him with genuine concern.

I stand and bang on the glass when Declan skates by. It could get me kicked out of the game, but the refs are on the other side of the ice trying to prevent Ivanov from punching one of the San Diego guys. Dec turns to the noise, his face pained, probably from how badly he’s playing. I watch as he sees me without seeing me, but then does a double take. The way his face lights up when he realizes it’s me will be imprinted in my memory for the rest of my life.

“Princess!” he yells, ripping his glove off and pressing his hand to the glass in front of me. I put my hand against the glass on the other side and smile.

“Get it together! This asshole wants you to lose,” I say and point with my thumb at the man next to me. Declan eyes him, and I can feel the man shrink under his stare.

“You got it, wife!” he yells just as the whistle blows. He skates back, quickly alerting Gideon that Maggie is here. Gideon beams at his wife before schooling his face back into game mode. They take their positions, and Gideon wins the face off. He passes it to Declan, who doesn’t miss it this time.

“Looks like he just needed you,” Maggie says with a small laugh. I watch Dec power his way past San Diego’s defense like they’re not even there and sink the puck right between their goalie’s knees. The goalie also happens to be Finn. And he does not look happy with his old roomie right now.

“That’s how you do it, hockey boy!” I scream. Maggie and I are jumping and hugging like they just won the Stanley Cup, her brown curls slapping me in the face. Not bringing the game to two to one. They’re not even winning.

Declan skates in front of me again and taps his heart. I tap mine and smile. Gideon is right next to him, smiling and making a heart with his gloved hands at Maggie.

I swear you can feel the mood in the entire arena change. Where it was light and happy before, the air is suddenly heavywith stress. San Diego was winning on their home ice against their old superstar player. Now they’re tied thanks to a goal by Ivanov with an assist by Gideon.

By the third period, the tension between Finn and Dec is at its peak. Declan has taken all the shots on goal since the period started. Which is a mistake because Finn knows how Declan plays better than anyone. The shot through his knees was lucky. I wish I could text him and tell him to let someone else try.

“Will I get kicked out if I go over to the bench and try to talk to the players?” I ask Maggie.

“Definitely,” she says and laughs at me like I was making a joke.

Our seats are close to San Diego’s goal. So the next time Finn covers the puck and the whistle blows, I wave my arms to get Declan’s attention. He sees me and quickly skates over. There’s no way he’ll hear me now with how loud the crowd has become. So I make a line across my throat with my fingers in astopgesture and then point at Gideon and Ivanov and nod. Declan frowns, and I quickly do it again. He nods like he understands, and I point at Finn, make an x with my arms and point back at him. I watch Dec’s eyes light up with understanding, and then he quickly frowns. He knows what I’m saying, but he wants to score. There’s no time for anything else because he has to get back in line.

“Do you think that worked?” Maggie asks. I shrug because I have no idea if he’s going to listen to me.

San Diego wins the face off, but it’s quickly recovered by Adam Rogers, a recent trade from Montreal and Martinez’s defensive partner. Rogers gets the puck to Dec, and I sigh, ready to watch Finn predict exactly what Declan is about to do. Again.

“He passed!” Maggie shouts. I sit up straight. Gideon has the puck, but San Diego is on him. He’s able to make a quick pass to Ivanov before being slammed into the boards. Maggie grabs myarm and gasps. I’m too invested in the play to comfort her. Plus, I can see Gideon skating back into the play, so I know he isn’t injured.

Ivanov is trying to line up a shot, but he can’t get an opening. He passes to Dec. “Dammit,” I mutter. Declan skates around the large man blocking him and lifts his stick for a slapshot. I sigh, knowing Finn could block that shot from Dec in his sleep.

But the puck doesn’t speed towards Finn’s waiting glove. It’s slipped back to Gideon, who shoots for the top right of the net. The buzzer on the goal sounds moments before the one ending the last period and the game.

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