Page 149 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
And yet, they thought of being with her, of dragging her further into this mess, repeating the same mistakes…hurting her again and again…
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” I admit, even as the words burn like acid coming off my tongue.
Leo is quiet for a long moment before he sighs. “Then I guess you have two weeks to get your head together. But man,” he adds as he walks to the door, his footsteps on the carpet as heavy as my heart, “think about what kind of decisions she can make in two weeks…and whether she’ll even want you in her life by then.”
Then I’m alone again.
Only it’s the last thing I want.
“Fuck!” I hiss as the stick comes across my hands, sending pain radiating up my arms and the puck squirting away.
Not for the first time tonight.
If I’m being truthful, I’ve been fucking useless.
Not a captain.
Not a player the other guys look up to, bringing energy they strive to match.
A fuck up.
Tonight.
No.
For the last week.
Gritting my teeth, I shove everything out of my head except for trying to recover the puck. I skate hard, driving into the fucker who stole it from me, taking it back. I don’t try to hold on to it long, instead shoveling it over to Leo, knowing his head isn’t fucked-up—or at least his head isn’t fucked-up enough to screw with his game.
He skates it into the zone and I don’t join the rush.
Instead, I get my ass off the ice and let someone better take my place.
Which is pretty much anyone else on the bench.
Smitty eyes me as I sink down, his expression screaming disappointment. But it’s not stronger than the shame that’s been eating me alive.
The headlines on repeat in my head.
Proof of the hurt I caused.
Broken promises…
And history repeating itself.
Smitty sighs but doesn’t comment. Just shakes his head and hops over the boards, taking his next shift and doing it a fuck of a lot better than I did out there.
Leo passes the puck over to Aiden, who drops it back to Sawyer at the point.
The crack of his stick hitting the ice is loud and the shot tears through the air, ricocheting off pads and players and eventually, Aiden’s stick in front of the net, redirecting it in one final fuck you to the goalie on the other team, who’s been struggling to track it through the chaos.
It sails into the net, slipping between pad and glove, and the red light goes on.
And the Grizzlies are up by a goal.
And the hometown crowd boos.
And still…I can’t push down the shame.
