Page 37 of Goalies Don't Date Ice Princesses

“And this?” He asked.

Archer’s voice cracked as he pointed towards his immobilized leg, a mixture of confusion and sadness etched across his face. Mrs. Rainn exchanged a glance with Mr. Jamison, and her eyes filled with a profound sympathy that mirrored the ache in Archer’s heart.

“It seems that during the fall, you landed awkwardly on your leg, resulting in a bad break,” she explained gently. “It... It’s going to take a while to heal.”

Archer’s hands trembled as he reached out to touch his cast, his fingers tracing the hard exterior as if trying to comprehend the reality of his injury.

“The doctors have assured us that with proper rest and rehabilitation, you’ll be able to regain strength in your leg and get back to walking normally.”

Archer’s brows knit together. “And hockey?”

Mrs. Rainn pressed her lips together. “I’m not sure, honey. We’ll have to see how it heals.”

“But if I take the season off—” He broke off and shook his head. It was the closest I ever saw to him crying. “I only have a year left in high school. I can’t...”

“We’re going to get through this,” Mrs. Rainn promised. “It’s all going to work out in the end, okay? You’ll see.”

I had a feeling Archer wouldn’t want me to see hm cry so as the tears started to flow down his face, I slipped quietly outside the room. Then, I walked to the bathroom as fast as I could and let the tears fall down my own face too.

What’s a life without hockey? Archer had said to me once. Not one I want to live.

twenty-four

“Didthey say how long it will take to recover?” I asked. I was alone with Archer in his hospital room again while everyone else was out doing various things the next day. Archer was scowling at the ceiling and given the circumstances, I couldn’t blame him. I felt bad even asking the question—worried it was stirring up some resentment in him—but it was the only thing I could think to ask. Now that I was certain he was safe, it was the next most important thing to know.

“A few months,” he muttered. “I’ll be in a cast for a while then physical therapy and then... then, maybe I can get back on the ice.”

His lip curled as he said maybe, like it was the worst fate he could think of. Like he was angry that it had to be that, that he didn’t know which way it would go.

And I understood completely.

“At least there’s a chance,” I said, even though I had a feeling that was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. At least there’s a chance you could get back to hockey. If someone said that to me about figure skating, I’d want to deck them.

“Yeah,” Archer said in a hollow voice. “At least there’s that.”

I hated to see him like that, so broken and defeated. It wasn’t something I ever thought I’d see on him. Even when he almost got suspended after the fight, he didn’t look like this.

As we sat in the dimly lit hospital room, the heavy silence was broken by a soft knock on the door. It swung open a moment later and Archer’s mom walked in, with Mr. Jamison by her side. Mrs. Rainn’s arms were filled with a pile of books, magazines and a couple bottles of Gatorade, like she went out to find everything she knew he liked.

“Archer,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “How are you feeling?”

Archer forced a weak smile. “I’m hanging in there, Mom.”

Mrs. Rainn approached Archer’s bedside with cautious steps, her worry etched deep into the lines on her forehead. She set down the stack of books and magazines on the small table beside him, arranging them in a neat pile as though they held the power to heal. Mr. Jamison hovered at her side, his face a blend of sympathy and restraint.

“I’ve brought you a few things to keep you entertained,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I know it’s not much, but maybe they’ll bring some distraction.”

Archer’s gaze softened as he looked at his mother, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thanks, Mom,” he replied, his voice filled with unexpected tenderness. “That means a lot.”

I exchanged a knowing glance with Mr. Jamison, understanding the importance of this moment between mother and son. Sensing the unspoken request for privacy, I rose from my seat and suggested, “Why don’t we go grab some coffee?”

Mrs. Rainn looked at me with gratitude in her eyes.

“Thank you both for being here, Bri,” she said. “It means a lot. To all of us.”

Did she know why I was here? Did she think it was just for Adelynn or did she suspect it was something more? I searched her face for some sign but there was no indication.

“Of course, Mrs. Rainn,” I murmured. I smiled softly at Archer one more time before stepping out the door and allowing Mr. Jamison to close it behind us.

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