Page 122 of Blindside Me
I blink, thrown off-balance. “Then why?”
“Because I know what kind of pressure you’re under. Because I’ve seen what happens when you bottle things up too long.” He leans back in his chair. “And because I’ve watched you skate around the edges of your life for three years, afraid to commit to anything but hockey.”
The assessment lands like a body check. Direct. Brutal. True.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Would you have listened?” He raises an eyebrow. “Or would you have shut down, transferred to another program, run away like you always do when something gets too close?”
Each word strikes with precision. I think of all the times I’ve walked away. From relationships. From friendships that demanded more than surface connection. From Jade at Barton’s.
“I’m not…” I start, but the lie dies on my tongue. “I don’t mean to run.”
“But you do. Every time.” Coach’s voice softens slightly. “Same as I did when things got hard with Jade’s mom. When raising a teenager seemed too complicated.”
The parallel lands like a revelation. Coach Howell sees me because he is me. Or was. A man who chose safety over risk, distance over connection.
“So what now?” I ask, the question smaller than I intend.
Coach studies me, and I see past the coach to the man for the first time. The uncle who failed. The brother who tried. The person still figuring out how to show up.
“That depends,” he says. “On whether you’re ready to stop running.”
Coach Howell stands and rolls his chair back with a squeak against the linoleum. He moves to the shelves behind him and picks up a small frame, studying it. The fluorescent light reflects off the glass, but there’s no mistaking that the girl in the picture is a younger Jade.
“Violence isn’t the way,” he finally says, turning back to me. His eyes are tired but clear. “It never is. Not on the ice, not off it.”
I nod, throat tight. He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know, but hearing it feels different. Necessary.
“But showing up for someone? That matters.” His voice softens, almost like he’s talking to himself. “God knows I didn’t do that enough for Jade or her mother.”
The mention of Jade sends a jolt through my chest. Her name in his mouth feels like permission and warning all at once.
“When her mom would take off, I’d call and check in.” Coach’s jaw tightens. “But I never stayed. Never showed up at the door. Just made sure she had food and money and told myself that was enough. Even when she stayed with me, I wasn’t truly there.”
He turns from the shelves, facing me fully.
“It wasn’t enough.” The words hang heavy between us. “I thought distance was safer. For me. For her. I was wrong.”
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with how accurately he describes my choices. The silence I’ve subjected Jade to. The walls I’ve built. The distance I convinced myself was protection.
“If you’re going to be in Jade’s life,” Coach continues, “you better do it with your eyes open. You don’t get to run when it gets hard. You don’t get to decide what’s best for her without asking. And you sure as hell don’t get to use her as a reason to punish yourself.”
The words land like a challenge, not a permission slip. Not at all what I expected when I walked through that door.
“I figured you’d tell me to stay away from her,” I admit.
“Would that work?” His eyebrow lifts slightly. “Seems to me forbidding things just makes them more appealing. Especially to hardheaded hockey players.”
A small, reluctant smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Probably not.”
“Here’s what I know.” Coach leans against the shelving unit. “My niece doesn’t trust easily. Doesn’t let many people in. But she let you in, for whatever reason.”
My chest tightens at the thought. She did. She saw parts of me nobody else was allowed to see and didn’t run. Until I made her.
“So now you’ve got a choice,” Coach says. “You can keep believing you’re damaged goods, destined to become your old man. Or you can decide to be better. To show up. To stay even when it gets messy.”
I stare at my hands, the healing cuts on my knuckles. “What if I can’t? What if I’m too much like them?”
