Page 154 of If You Claim Me
I’m thrilled Meems made it through, but I’m afraid of what’s coming next—and what version of Connor will be on the other side of this.
CHAPTER 41
CONNOR
I’m failing at protecting the goalie tonight. We’re down by two, and Ryker, Romero, and Palaniappa are working double time to make up for my shitty performance.
I’m frustrated, and I can’t focus. Meems is still in the hospital after five days, and I’m here, on the ice, a two-hour flight from home. She turned a corner after the first forty-eight hours and is doing much better. So I made the decision to be with my team instead of her and my wife. I needed to get away. To find some perspective. To put some distance between me and Mildred.
But I’m not performing. So when Ottawa tries to score again in the second half of the third period, I lose what’s left of my frayed cool and trip their lead scorer. I’m looking for a fight, so when I have the chance, I hit him in the place it hurts most. And he reacts, giving me a reason to drop my gloves. That results in a five-minute penalty, which is the last thing my team needs this late in the game.
Vander Zee looks like he’s ready to murder me. I can’t see Coach Forrest-Hammer because she’s in the box, but I can imagine how unimpressed she’ll be. Ottawa scores again at the end of my penalty, widening the gap. We can’t recover, and it’sour second loss in as many games—a trend that can’t continue if we want to secure a spot in the playoffs.
The mood is somber as we enter the locker room. Romero claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t get too up in your head. You have a lot going on.”
“It’s not an excuse.” I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t be at home. I’m drowning in worry and in wishing I could talk to my wife. Yet I’m too afraid to be honest.
Vander Zee comes in with the rest of the coaches. “This team has been working hard to prove we can succeed without Hammerstein and Hendrix on the roster. But this shit—where you let the other team get under your skin and play like testosterone-fueled rookies—won’t fly. We might as well hand over our spot in the playoffs if we keep this up. Get changed, get rested, and get your heads back in the game so we can beat Montreal in two days.”
He leaves us to shower and change. No one is in the mood to go out because there’s nothing to celebrate. I can already predict the news around tonight’s game. People will question whether I’m back to my old ways. They’ll wonder if the past few months were a blip, speculate that there’s trouble in paradise.
They won’t be wrong, either.
Meems’s time here might be extended another decade, and while I’m relieved and elated, I didn’t plan for this outcome, and I don’t know what to do. Because I believe keeping Meems means losing Mildred.
When I leave the locker room, Lexi is in the hall with the other coaches. Her gaze shifts my way, and the disappointment on her face is more than I can deal with. She’s always been on my side, but right now she looks pissed.
She pulls me aside. “I know you have a lot going on, but you’re a better player than this.”
“Maybe I’m not.” I voice the thoughts in my head. “Maybe the last few months were a fluke.”
She crosses her arms atop her swollen belly. “I know whatyou did out there to set him off, and the only reason you would stoop that low is because you’re looking for someone to take out their frustration on your face. Don’t forget that I’m aware your grandmother’s surgery is a stressor, and that there is far more to this than just her recovery.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“For fuck’s sake.” She huffs. “Does Mildred know how you feel?”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. It wasn’t part of the deal, and she deserves better.”
Coach shakes her head. “If this is the version of you she’s getting, then yeah, I’d agree. Get your head on straight, Connor. Figure your shit out and stop bringing your personal life onto the ice.”
I blink at her. “Are you done?”
“No, actually.” Her expression hardens. “You’re about to blow up your life and your career because you’re too afraid to face your own feelings. You’re not the only person who stands to lose something here.” And with that, she turns and walks away.
I go back to the hotel and run into Romero in the hall on the way to my room.
“Hey, man, I know today’s game was rough, but don’t be too hard on yourself,” he says. “I know the situation with your grams has been weighing on you.”
“I don’t deserve a pass for fucking up the game for my team.”
“You didn’t fuck it up by yourself,” he counters. “We were all out there, too.”
“I made it worse.” I pass the card over the sensor.
He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m going to Ryker’s room to hang out for a bit. You should come. We can talk strategy for the next game.”
“Better if I don’t spread my bad mood around.” I shoulder my door open.
