Page 127 of Fall to Me
Here it comes. What I’ve been waiting for him to tell me.
“You can’t return to the ice this season. In fact, I would advise that you don’t return until at least the middle of next season if not the season after. You will need to have a full assessment done before you’re released to play.”
And there it is.
River pinches her bottom lip nervously as I let his words settle over me. I’ve had a lot of time to mentally prepare myself for this decision, whether or not I’d be cleared. And this news changes things. A lot of things.
It says something that I’m not even upset. In fact, I—I think I’m relieved. After I told River hockey wasn’t my passion, I’ve done a lot of soul searching of my own. The doctor goes over my care instructions with River and Cam as I dress. When I come out of the restroom, River’s standing there with tears gleaming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. This is my fault,” she cries.
I cast a glance at my sister, and she nods her head in understanding. “I’ll be waiting out in the hall for you two.”
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I coax River to come sit down beside me. I hold both of her hands in mine and reach up to thumb away the tears streaking down her face.
“Look at me.” I wait for her teary eyes meet to mine before I say another word. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Carter, that’s bullshit. If I hadn’t proposed?—”
I place my finger to her lips. “You should know by now that either way, I would’ve chased you to the ends of the earth, and I wouldn’t have stopped until you became my wife.”
“He wouldn’t have gone after you if it wasn’t for me. You almost died because of me.”
“I lived because of you. You made me fight harder to stay alive. You’re the reason air still fills these lungs.” I press my lips to hers. “I live and breathe for you. This shouldn’t be a revelation for you.”
She smirks and lays her head on my shoulder, and we sit there in silence for a few minutes before she says, “I will never be able to thank you enough for the sacrifices you’ve made for me. For making me feel safe and cherished. I love you, Carter.”
She still doesn’t get it. Not really. Loving her will never be a sacrifice. Nor will anything that comes along with it.
For now, I’ll just tell her how I feel and work harder to show her that I mean it.
“I love you too, baby.”
SIX MONTHS LATER
The sound of the roaring crowd behind me, blades slicing across the ice and the sticks clattering, fills my ears.
“Change it up, Werchky!” I yell, my voice hoarse from shouting all night. I turn to Cal and grip his shoulders, giving him a shake to lock in focus. “Cal, you’re up. Hold it together for the next few minutes!”
I slap his back as he vaults over the boards.
I never thought I’d see myself in a coaching role, but when I told Aspen that I wanted to retire early but stay on with the Blaze in some capacity while I earned my doctorate to become a sports psychologist, she was more than willing to oblige. After meetings with our Coach and GM, she came back to me with an offer that I couldn’t turn down. So now, I’m an assistant coach. . . at least until I complete the requirements to be a sports psychologist.Who knows? I may fall in love with this role and decide to stay in it. Being a sports psychologist can go hand-in-hand with being a coach.
Boston charges the neutral zone, their forward coming up the middle. He dekes around Aiden and takes the shot. I can barely look.
“Fuck yes!” I shout, pumping my fist as Mac comes through again.
My heart hammers as I grip the boards, watching the seconds wind down. Drew jumps a pass and takes the puck down the ice. He slides the puck to Aiden. Aiden cuts left and passes to Cal.
Cal winds up, he shoots . . . I hold my breath as the puck leaves the ice and twirls in the air.
Their goalie leaps to the right. His glove reaches out. The net swishes, and the red light above the goal swirls. My arms fly into the air.
The entire arena echoes with a thunderous roar as our team surges forward with their sticks clattering against the boards.
Stanley Fucking Cup. Wow. Streamers fall from the sky, and I watch Cal as our teammates throw their arms around him. This is the moment he’s waited for his entire career. He presses a kiss to his fingers and holds them up with his head tilted toward the sky, paying tribute to Paisley and Xander.
Coach tosses his arm around my neck and says, “Good job, Coach.”
