Page 72 of Wake Me Up
“You’re awfully quiet over there, babe.” My mom nudges me. “Everything all right?”
“I’m fine,” I utter as I glance at her quickly before my eyes find Tripp in front of the goal.
Everyone else can’t see what I see. I see the amazing player he is, just like everyone in this arena does, but I also see years of injuries that have never quite healed, bringing him pain. I see so many things he’smissed out on because he put this team before having a life. I see the man who hid behind the cold exterior for years, only to finally show himself to me.
I also see a man who is ready to retire, but may pass up the opportunity of a lifetime because he doesn’t want to turn his back on me and my kids.
Our marriage may have started off as a facade, but it’s more than real now. And that realness comes with sacrifices and compromises. But I’m not willing to let him do that for me, even if it means we have a long-distance relationship.
“Talk to me, Freya.” My mom isn’t taking no for an answer. “Tell me what’s eating at your mind.”
I bite down on the inside of my lip, gnawing on it nervously. I don’t want to pile my troubles onto her, but she’s my mom, and one thing about her? She always has the best advice.
“Tripp has the chance to retire and coach a D1 hockey program,” I whisper, keeping my voice low so that no one else hears me. “But it would mean he’d have to move to Massachusetts, almost two hours from here.”
“And is this job something he’d like to do, do you think?” she asks, putting her hand on my knee. “Or does he want to keep playing?”
“He says he won’t go if the kids and I don’t go too.” I can’t look at her. It would make me crack.
She’s silent for a moment, and I get to watch Tripp make an incredible block.
“You know, two hours isn’t that far.” She pats my knee. “We could visit every week if we wanted to.”
“I know.” I swallow, not wanting to say anything else. Even thinking about my reasons for why I have to stay makes me feel guilty.
“But you can’t leave the bakery?” she guesses, reading my mind. “And because of that, you feel stuck here.”
I pull in a breath through my nose as my chest hurts. Gramp isn’t getting any younger, and the last thing I want to do is leave him right now. I don’t answer, though my silence speaks a thousand words, I’m sure.
“I’m going to break daughter-father code for a second and tell you something,” she says, dragging in a sigh. “Gramp has wanted to close down the bakery for a few months now. Did you know?”
My eyes fly to my mom’s, and I frown. “What? What do you mean?”
“He’s eighty-two, babe.” She smiles sadly. “He’s tired. And while he’dobviously love for you to take over, I think he also knows that as long as the bakery is within walking distance of his house—”
“He won’t stop working …” I whisper, and she nods.
“He’s worn out, but he loves working with you, and he knows that it keeps your mind busy.” She brushes her hand over my hair.
“Sometimes, Frey, we need a second chance in life.” A tear streams down her cheek, and she smiles at me. “Tripp is your second chance. He’s a gift from the universe to remind you that you still have a lot of life left to live. So, as much as I’ll miss you and the kids being right down the road, I want you to get a real second chance at happiness more.”
I sniffle, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “I don’t even know if the kids would want to move. Their whole life is here.”
“They also lost their daddy here too, baby.” She throws her arm around me, pulling me against her. “Talk to them. They are good kids, and they’ll tell you how they feel. Truly.”
We probably look weird—me and my mom, all huddled up with tears in our eyes—but that’s okay. Because as I sit here and watch Tripp on the ice, I allow myself to think about what the future may look like if I got to start again somewhere new.
And I like what I see when I do.
With my bag slung over my shoulder, I wince when my hip screams at me as I walk up the stairs and toward the area where Freya and the kids usually wait for me. The new kid got to come in for me in the final few minutes because despite my best efforts, Coach knew something was wrong.
The worst part is, it’s just wear and tear from playing this game for so long.
As I reach the top of the stairs, I see Freya, Avy, Cash, and Cane all sitting on a few benches. Her parents are gone, leaving just the four of them to wait for me.
When they see me, they all stand, but Aviana is the first one to rush over and give me a big hug.
“Good job, Tripp.” She beams up at me. “Sorry that you had to come out because you were hurting.”
