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“Get ready to go in,” Coach yells at me over the roar of the crowd.
I know it’s dumb to be nervous, but I am. I try to shake everything off as I’m subbed in, skating across the ice, but the feeling seems to crawl beneath my skin. I can’t afford to be off my game tonight. Not when Tommy watches me like hawk. This is the part of the season we can’t afford to fuck up. And it seems like the part of my career that I can’t mess up either.
I check their number seven into the boards, steal the puck, slip left around their defender, and pass it off to Cory, who shoots. He misses, but Mike is there to grab the rebounding puck and he skates out to give us time to reset.
A cold panic floods my veins as the self-doubt for the last practice threatens to darken my thoughts and strengthen my doubt.
I can’t let myself down. Not now.
The puck finds my stick. I move right, then left, easily evading the defense, and slicing through their backline with more ease than I’ve felt in a long time. My heart beats into my hands as I see Cory break free. I pass it several feet ahead of him, and he gets there with ease, as if reading my mind, just as the goalie moves right to face him.
Instead of taking the shot, he passes it to me. The goalie is off center. I don’t think, I take the shot. The puck hits the back of the net, and the goal horn blasts, and the crowd erupts in cheers.
I see Coach punch his fist into the air in victory.
Cory claps my back. “Good job, man.” It is all he can say before the rest of the guys pile on top of me in celebration.
We stay up two-one. No one is able to score in the third period, but it doesn’t matter. We did it. We fucking did it. And I made the difference.
Despite the elation of the win, I can’t shake off the obvious truth: winning isn’t as good without Astrid.
I find myself fading in and out of the celebratory energy, asking myself, without her, without Astrid in my family, what would all of this be for?
Reporters swarm us the moment we’re off the ice, but I don’t want to talk. Not after the things they’ve said. I don’t want to feed into it. I shield my face from the flashing of photographs.
Cory doesn’t seem to mind, though. He loves the spotlight, running a hand through his sweaty hair, he gravitates towards the nearest microphone.
I laugh, using him as my distraction, slipping around the corner, retreating to safety in the locker room.
CHAPTER 40
ASTRID
Istare at my belongings scattered across what used to be my bedroom. My home. I will the tears back into my eyes. I won’t cry another second over a man that won’t choose me. I swipe at my cheeks with the back of my hand. I’m better than this. And I will hold my head up high on the way out.
I don’t know how I’ll move everything. Again. I allow myself to fall on my bed and crawl to bury my face in a pillow. If I can’t cry, I’m going to scream. And I do just that, letting out all of the frustration that has built up over these last few days. I’m glad Violet is with her grandparents and doesn’t have to bear witness to my meltdown. Even if it kills me not to spend what precious time we have left together.
I take out my phone and pull up my messages with Heather. My fingers tremble as I consider my options. I was too embarrassed to tell her, or anyone. But now that I’m officially moving…
Astrid
Sean and I broke up. I’m moving out.
I watch the dots appear at the bottom of the screen and then fall away. Ugh, she’s probably going to try and call me and the last thing I want to do is say these words out loud. It’s hard enough to text them.
Astrid
I’m okay. Can’t talk. Just wanted you to know.
Heather
Okay. I love you. Call me when you’re ready.
I fall back again. That was harder than I expected, and the consequences are just beginning.
I pull one of the pillows into my chest and wrap myself around it, reluctantly letting the tears fall. It’s going to be alright, I tell myself on repeat. I’ve survived break ups before. Not that this is really a break up. Can’t call it that if he never asked to be with me in the first place.
I’m so, so stupid. I cry harder, letting it all out.
