Page 22 of Power Forward

“I saw you had it propped up in your photo earlier. It’s not just your ACL now, is it?”

“No. I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis after my third surgery. I’ve just come back from the hospital, where they told me it’s also in my hips.”

“Fuck, Cas, I…” He trails off. “Fuck. I don’t know what to say to any of that. The fact you’ve had three surgeries or that you’ve got arthritis. Like, you’re thirty-nine. You’re not old.”

I chuckle under my breath, trying not to think too hard about the way he slipped and used his old pet name for me so easily. The times that three-letter word would spill from his lips when I made him come. It’s a sound I’ve never forgotten.

“I appreciate the compliment because I sure feel like I’m seventy-nine most days, but I started playing hockey at a very young age. And you know I wasn’t the best at listening to my body when it was telling me to rest or have a visit with the trainer.”

He grunts. “You didn’t get any better at that after I left, then, huh?”

“No.” I grin. “If anything, I got worse.”

There’s another beat of silence, but this time, I don’t feel concerned. I can practically hear his brain digesting everything.

“I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through all of this,” he says, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “It can’t be easy.”

“It isn’t, but you know, I’ve got the California sun to ease some of the aches, and the view isn’t too bad either.”

“That’s true. That’s a big perk.” He huffs a laugh, and then his voice takes on an emotion I can’t quite decipher. “Thank you for telling me. I can imagine it was hard, considering nobody really knows, so thank you. For trusting me with it.”

A lump forms in my throat. I didn’t know how cathartic it would feel to tell someone else. Apart from Zara, Roberta, and Dr. Moore, I’ve been battling it alone. And just having someone else know, who understands the struggles athletes face when it comes to either coming to terms with an injury or, in my case, an injury that results in hanging up my skates earlier than I was ready… It feels… revitalizing.

“Thanks for listening.”

Another silence.

“I… I better go and nap ahead of our game tonight, but, uh… I’m here if you need someone to talk to. Or… you know, send more random facts about jellyfish.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

A bark of laughter escapes me. “Hey, don’t diss. Jellyfish are cool.”

“As long as they stay the hell away from me and my kids,sure. I’ll think they’re cool with a thick pane of glass between us.”

My smile is so fucking wide my cheeks hurt.

“Thanks, Jax. I hope you have a good game tonight.”

We hang up, and for the first time in years, there’s a spark of happiness ignited inside of me.

Chapter Nine

Jackson

My days seem to blend together recently. It always does during the regular season. It’s a repetitive cycle of training, home games, away games, and being a dad. However, tonight is the annual Chicago Thunder Halloween party at Peyton’s house. Every year, the guys on the team compete for the most creative costumes, but this time, I think I’ve got the win in the bag.

“Daddy, you look funny,” Isabela giggles when I walk down the stairs and into the living room in my costume.

I look down at myself, feigning innocence. “What do you mean? I think I look awesome.”

Isabela falls back onto the couch and lets out a loud belly laugh that causes Ryan to look up from his Switch.

“Yeah, you do look funny, Dad,” he laughs.

I place my hands on my hips. “Geez, thanks. You two sure know how to make your dad feel good.”

They both burst into laughter, and I grin.

The thing is, would I have picked this costume if I wasshopping alone? No, but the kids happened to ask what I was doing the other day while I was searching for a costume. It went downhill from there, and that’s how I’ve found myself in a blue Bandit onesie.Blueyis a big deal in the Wilde household, so it didn’t come as a surprise when they begged me to buy the Bandit costume. I can’t complain, though—it’s very comfortable.

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