Page 33 of Fear of Falling

And my mom, I’ve tried so hard to give her money or to buy her a new house. A better house. But every single time she said no, that she had no intention in leaving our childhood home, where so many memories were made. It was only after months of nagging and pleading that she’d allowed me to pay for some minor upgrades to the house.

Mateo was the only person here who gladly let me pay for anything he wanted. Unfortunately for him, he was the only onenotgetting a handout from me. If he wanted something he had to work for it himself, just like how Landon and I did when we were his age.

Not wanting to get into it tonight I backed off. When Landon made his mind up about something there was no changing it. Yet another Boone trait we all seemed to have.

“The offer is out there if you need,” I said, putting my hands up. Landon didn’t say a word as he turned back to his food.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mateo sit up and instantly knew what he was going to say.

“Can Wyatt buy me a?—”

“No.”

“How’s the knee feeling?”Mom asked out of the blue as the two of us stood at the sink once more. It sounds stupid, but I lovedthis little ritual the two of us had. After dinner we stood there, side by side, washing and drying and talking. It’s our thing.

“It’s okay.” I knew better than to lie to my mom. There’s no hiding anything from a mother. “Been going to physical therapy every week.”

“Everything still looking good?”

My mom was right by my side when I got hurt. Spent almost every day at the hospital with me, asking the doctors endless questions. She went full mother hen on me when I got discharged. Instead of letting me go back to my apartment she all but moved me into her bedroom here at the house.

Because my old room was on the second level and I couldn’t get up the stairs that well, she graciously let me take her room, taking one for herself upstairs for the two months I stayed here.

It was like I was in high school all over again. She brought me food in bed and on the couch. Made sure I took my medicine. Even when she was at her non-profit job, she called me every hour to make sure I was okay.

My mom was a godsend. Even though I was an absolute dick those first few weeks she made sure I was taken care of and healing.

“Yeah, he says everything is perfectly fine.”

“Well, that’s good news.” I felt her eyes on me as I dried a dish. I just nodded because itwasgood news. I was healed–and yet, I was playing like shit.

“Are you worried you’re going to get hurt again?”

I knew the question was coming but it still made me freeze. It was always a question in the back of my mind. A question that I’d actively avoided asking myself over the past few months since the season started.

“What if I end up unable to play again?” The question left my mouth before I could stop it. I hated voicing my fears, but thiswas my mom. She knew me better than anyone, and she also knew how hard I’d worked to get to this point in my career.

“What if I get really hurt again and my entire career is over?”

My biggest fear of all.

While I liked Asher and I respected that he made a great career for himself after a horrible injury, if that was me in that situation…I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t want all my hard years of work taken away at a snap of a finger.

Because who am I without hockey?

Just those few months of healing from my ACL I felt completely lost, like my whole world was crumbling around me. When I finally got clearance to play, I told myself I wouldn’t let an injury take me away from doing what I loved. Yet, at the same time, it’s made me timid. There’s a constant fear in the back of my mind that at any given moment it could all be over.

For good this time.

“Honey.” My mom shut the water off and turned to face me. “You know how brutal the sport can be. I knew it the first time you came home with a swollen eye from fighting on the ice.” I smiled at the memory. I remember coming home so proud of myself for participating in my first fight.

“You don’t play hockey scared. You never have and you’re not about to start now. Wyatt Boone doesn’t run.” Mom gave me a firm look. “This isyoursport. You were made for this, and you aren’t about to let one little injury take that away from you.”

“Wasn’t really a ‘little injury’,” I muttered, but a sharp look from her made me shut my mouth.

“You have the power to decide what breaks you and what doesn’t. Remember what you love about hockey and play with your heart.”

She ended the conversation there as she turned back to the sink, finishing washing. I stood there soaking in her advice. Justlike my older brother, my mom shoots right from the hip. She doesn’t sugar coat anything for me.

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