Page 128 of Daddies on Ice
Afterward, we lie tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers combing through her hair. The hotel room is quiet except for our breathing and the distant sounds of celebration from the streets below.
“Happy New Year, Carl,” she murmurs against my skin.
“Happy New Year, beautiful,” I reply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
My phone dings from the nightstand, breaking the peaceful moment. Trisha reaches for it automatically, handing it to me with a sleepy smile.
But as she does, I see her eyes focus on the screen, see the way her expression changes.
“This number’s been calling you a lot,” she says, and there’s concern in her voice now. “Who is it?”
I hesitate, looking at the missed call notification. Dr. Martinez. Again. The weight of what I’ve been avoiding crashes back down on me, heavier than ever in this moment of perfect intimacy.
“Carl?” Trisha’s voice is gentle but insistent. “Who keeps calling you?”
I meet her eyes, seeing the worry there, the care that makes my chest tight. “It’s my oncology doctor,” I say finally, the words feeling like stones in my mouth. “He needs me to come in for another test. To see if I have cancer.”
The words hang between us like a death sentence, and I watch as the color drains from her beautiful face.
46
TISH
The words hang in the air between us like a death sentence.
Oncology doctor. Cancer.
The two words that can bring anyone to their knees, and here’s Carl with that stoic expression he wears when he’s trying to protect everyone else from his pain.
“Carl,” I whisper, reaching for him, but he sits up and gets dressed.
“There’s nothing I can do until we get back home.” His voice is steady but I can hear the underlying concern. “Please don’t say anything to anyone. Tonight is our last night on tour, and we’ll head home tomorrow.”
I want to argue, want to demand he call the doctor right now, want to shake him until he realizes that this can’t wait.
But I know Carl well enough to understand that when he makes up his mind about something, there’s no changing it. Still, my heart is breaking for him, for us, for what this could mean.
“The canceled makeup match from our first game when the bus tire blew means we can drive straight back home tomorrow. About a four-hour drive,” he continues, as if discussing the weather instead of potentially life-altering news.
I nod, not trusting my voice as I get dressed.
The irony isn’t lost on me that our tour began with mechanical problems and now it’s ending with this bombshell. Everything feels like it’s coming full circle, but not in the way I’d hoped.
Carl’s hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “Hey, we don’t know anything yet. It could be nothing.”
But his eyes tell a different story. They’re filled with the same fear that’s currently clawing at my chest.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I go through the motions of packing, of handling the last-minute team logistics, of sending out more press releases because the media won’t drop my ex, of pretending everything is normal.
But every time I look at Carl, my heart clenches.
Every time Jake makes a joke or Ash gives me one of his protective looks, I want to scream that they need to know, that we should all be facing this together.
But I keep Carl’s secret, even as it eats away at me.
As evening approaches, the guys surprise me. “We want to treat you,” Jake announces, that dimpled grin of his lighting up his face. “One last adventure before we head home.”
“What kind of adventure?” I ask suspiciously, though I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.
