Page 43 of The Shots You Take

Riley’s smile disappeared. “Right.” He sat on one end of the couch, so Adam sat on the other. Lucky had disappeared, but Adam could hear him clacking around upstairs.

“Sorry,” Adam said. “I don’t have to mention the divorce if you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No,” Riley said quickly. “I don’t mind. I just still can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. Well. Add it to my list of fuck-ups.”

After a pause that was long enough that Adam thought Riley might actually be mentally adding it to a list, Riley said, “Was Maggie surprised, when you told her you’re gay?”

Adam’s gaze traced a section of the intricate pattern on the rug under his feet. “When I first told her, she definitely was. But not long after, she told me it made a lot of things make sense.”

He heard Riley shift on the sofa. Adam kept his gaze on the floor as he continued, “I wasn’t a great husband. I tried, but I know I wasn’t. Maggie never made me feel like I wasn’t enough, but our relationship was…” He sighed. “I was on the road a lot, obviously, but when I was home, I still wasn’t really present. I focused all my attention on hockey, because it was the only thing I was sure of. It made sense. What didn’tmake sense was having a wonderful wife and amazing kids in a beautiful house and still feeling empty every day.”

Adam turned his head and met Riley’s eyes. “I made a mess of things. It was selfish of me to marry her. I just thought I could make it work. And I sort of did, for a while. We were mostly happy. I can’t regret it completely, because we have the kids and I love them, obviously, but I regret wasting Maggie’s time.”

Riley didn’t say anything.

“So to answer your original question, Maggie has been great about the whole thing, but I still feel like the world’s biggest asshole.”

Riley didn’t try to convince him otherwise. “Do Lucy and Cole know you’re gay?”

Adam nodded. “We told them together and kind of rolled it into one big conversation about our decision to split up. Wasn’t the easiest day of my life. Cole took it really hard, Lucy was more sympathetic. But it’s been a couple of years now, and Cole is older and more understanding.”

“That’s good.” Riley huffed. “I can’t believe they’re teenagers. I saw them on the ice for your thousandth game ceremony, but that must have been eight years ago now.”

Adam smiled. “You watched that?”

Riley’s cheeks turned pink. “For a minute or two.” He shifted again. “You got photos of them?”

“Yeah! Of course.” Adam pulled out his phone and quickly pulled up a recent photo of Lucy and Cole together. Riley moved closer to see it.

“Lucy really looks like you,” Riley said.

“People say that. Not sure she likes hearing it.”

“Cole is tall. He’s fifteen, right?”

“Yep. He’s on the high school basketball team. He’s good too.”

“That’s cool,” Riley leaned back. “Did either of them play hockey?”

“A bit when they were really young. It didn’t take. I’m not sure I was the best advertisement for the sport, given how often I was out of commission at home. Always nursing some fresh injury. It was probably scary for them.”

“Probably.”

“Lucy was at the game when I fucked up my shoulder the first time. I was down on the ice for a while. She was nine and, yeah. Not a great memory for her.”

“Or for you, I’ll bet.”

Adam didn’t like to think about it. “No. Not for me either.”

They were quiet a moment, Adam staring at his smiling kids, and Riley breathing beside him.

“Are you hungry?” Riley asked. “I have a whole lasagna in the fridge.”

“Starving,” Adam said, wondering how long this fragile peace between them would last. “Lasagna sounds amazing.”

The kitchen was also beautiful, with weathered wood cupboards, a pale blue tiled backsplash, and butcher-block countertops. The window faced the trees that lined one side of the property.

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