Page 17 of Breakaway to You

I hadn’t known about the length of his contract, but I didn’t know too much about that kind of stuff when it came to the team. But I could imagine that not having a multi-year contract could mess with your head.

Then again, he’d been a professional hockey player for over a decade. Wasn’t that something he could celebrate? How he had been able to play for as long as he had?

“Your career isn’t over yet,” I said, hoping to help him see there was definitely a bright side. “You’re still playing hockey, still a part of a team, and still getting lots of minutes on the ice. Why not celebrate that?”

“I know.” He let out a heavy sigh. “And I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but it all seems tainted when there is a ticking clock over my head following me around everywhere I go.” He ran his hand through his hair, his curls changing directions. I had assumed correctly that he’d been running his hands through his hair over and over tonight. “Then add all the extra physical therapy sessions that none of the other players have to do, and it’s like no matter what I do, I’m getting hit in the face about how it’s all coming to an end.”

I figured that was why he had been so grumpy during our sessions the first month, but I hadn’t realized how much it was eating at him.

“And you’re not ready for it to end,” I hedged, hoping he would expound.

“Not at all.”

He didn’t say any more, and I wondered if I should push but didn’t know if it was my place. We didn’t know each other all that well, even though we saw each other almost every day. Neither of us was particularly chatty during our sessions.

“You’re not excited to retire?” I finally asked, still wanting to know more. I had assumed that maybe the idea of retiring held at least a tiny bit of an appeal. After years of putting his body and mind through a grueling hockey schedule, I figured a break might sound nice.

“No.” A one-word answer was all he was giving me.

I tilted my head, looking at his serious expression. His one-word response had me wanting to keep digging.

“The idea of having time to do something other than hockey for a change doesn’t interest you?” I asked.

He finally turned to look at me again. “You’re going to keep at this until I explain why, aren’t you?”

I gave him a cheeky grin. “Probably.”

He rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips. He might be acting like my prodding was annoying, but I noticed the way his shoulders relaxed at my reply.

“If you must know, retiring scares me.” He said it like that was all that needed to be said. Like it wouldn’t elicit a whole different round of questions from me.

And since he wasn’t willingly going to expound, I had to ask the obvious question. “What scares you about retiring?”

“Everything.”

I gave him a pointed look. “Can you please give me more than one-word answers and cryptic sentences?”

He chuckled. “Maybe I like keeping you on the edge of your seat.”

“You’ve had my full attention since I noticed you sitting here.”

His grin grew. “I’m pretty sure we’ve established that I’ve had your full attention since the start of my career.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he spoke before I could offer a rebuttal.

“Oh, I meant yoursister’sattention. My mistake.” The mischievous look on his face proved that he had never believed my sister was the one who followed his career.

I closed my mouth, keeping my words to myself because he was teasing me and that gorgeous smile of his was back, the forlorn look finally gone from his features. Sadness and Zeke weren’t supposed to go together.

“No comment,” I said, turning away from him.

His laugh filled the room, and I tried to cover my smile by taking another sip of my drink.

Once his laughter faded, he took a deep breath and then said, all playfulness gone from his voice, “If you must know why retiring scares me, it’s because I don’t remember not having hockey in my life. I started at such a young age, it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s all I’ve ever had.” His words had me turning back to him to see the vulnerability written on his face. “I have no home to return to. No family to spend time with. No other hobbies to cultivate. There’s nothing waiting for me after hockey.” He paused, his gaze going to his hands. “It’s like there is this void waiting to pull me in, and I’m afraid I’ll get lost in the darkness.”

My hand reached out and rested on his arm. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried. I wasn’t sure why he had no home to go back to or what he meant by having no family, but knowing that had my heart wanting to provide some comfort even if it was just for him to know that I’d heard what he’d shared, that he wasn’t crazy for feeling the way he did. “That is scary.”

His eyes darted to me. “Really?” His baffled expression had me wondering what he thought I was going to say.

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