Page 54 of Stuck with my Guarded MVP
She blinked. "Cardiology. Mostly congenital and rhythm disorders. Kids and teens, mostly."
I nodded slowly. That made sense. Calm under pressure, precise. Like a surgeon, but warmer.
"Do you miss it?"
Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the journal in her lap. "Yeah. I do."
I waited. Didn’t fill the silence.
Eventually, she kept going. "I had to stop practicing a few years ago. I started having reactions, breathing problems, hives, dizziness. It got worse whenever I was in the hospital."
"Allergies?"
"They think it was something airborne. Maybe sterilizing agents. Or latex accelerators. But no one could pin it down. I tried different hospitals, different roles. Nothing worked."
I swallowed. The idea of being forced out of the one thing you trained your whole life for. What do I even say about that?
"That's rough," I said quietly. It felt flat, but honest.
She gave me a small smile. "Yeah. It wasn’t exactly the five-year plan."
"So what did you do?"
"I pivoted. Research. Writing. Data analysis. Some consulting. At first, it felt like quitting. Like stepping down. But over time..."
She paused, then glanced back at me.
"It’s different. In the hospital, everything was immediate and high-stakes, nonstop chaos. Now, I get to pull back and actually see things. Patterns, trends, outcomes. It’s a different kind of impact, but it still matters. And I don’t feel like I’m drowning all the time."
I leaned back a little, studying her face. "You ever think about going back? If they figure it out?"
She shook her head. "I don’t think I can risk it. And I’ve made peace with that. Most days."
Then she went quiet.
I hesitated, then said, "When Maeve first called me, before we had answers... when I thought maybe I had it too.”
I looked right at Claire. “My mom died from it.”
Claire’s face softened. “Liam…”
I looked away. “I’d started thinking about what life would look like if itwasHuntington’s. Not just for her, but for me. What if I had the gene too? What if the decision to stop playing was made for me?”
I’d never pictured a future without hockey. Couldn’t even imagine it.
She leaned in, her hand landing gently on my arm. "Liam... I can’t imagine how scary those few days were. I’m so sorry you and Maeve had to go through that."
I looked down at her hand. Then I placed mine on top of it.
"Thank you, Claire."
We sat like that, hands touching, eyes locked. The apartment was quiet.
Finally, I exhaled and eased my arm away. "I think I’m going to turn in."
She nodded. "Goodnight, Liam."
"Goodnight, Claire."
