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“Who said anything about a book? Can’t you like, address the issue to the public, on social media or something?”
“Yeah, my agent said to keep quiet, to let him handle it. That it’d be better for my brand, whatever the fuck that means.”
“Who pays your agent?”
“I do.”
“And who does your agent work for?”
“Me.”
“There you go. You’re in charge of your own life, Ty. You’ve been through something traumatic, you came out on top, and you wanna set the record straight. I don’t see any reason why you can’t do that. You and TK. At the end of the day, this is your life.” She got up from the bed and headed toward the door, before turning back to face him. “You get to tell the story. Make it one you’re proud of, OK? I love you, Ty.”
“Love you too, babe.”
As she closed the door, Hayes sighed, reached for his phone, and shot a quick text to TK.
H: Hey. After the meeting with brass tomorrow, we need to talk. I got something I wanna run by you. I think we need to come clean.
TK: Anything you want, baby.
Back at It (32)
February 13
“That’s it, that’s it. You got it! Hustle, kid. Hustle!”
Jonesy skated over to where TK was grabbing a quick drink at the bench after his run and tapped him on the ass with his stick. “That was awesome. That’s what we need to see from you every single time. You see how you didn’t hesitate, you just went right after it? You had two guys on your tail and you kept pushing. That’s how you do it, Teek.”
“Thanks,” he wheezed, completely out of breath. He knew, as much as he didn’t want to, that he was going to have to quit smoking.
“You good, man? Your breathing’s erratic.”
TK gave a quick nod and got right back out to the neutral zone to run the next curl drill.
Practice had been brutal; Bridgeport was running him nonstop in preparation for tomorrow afternoon’s game against the Hartford Wolf Pack. They were pretty much knotted in the standings, but for some reason, Bridgeport just couldn’t seem to get their shit together against this team. It’d been decided at the meeting yesterday that Hayes and TK would play, both of them stepping in at the wing instead of their usual center due to some recent injuries and recalls to the big club. They were on the third line, but it didn’t matter; both boys were happy just to be back on that ice again.
TK glanced over to the other side of the rink where Hayes and several other players were taking a shooting drill on Osi, who’d be getting the start tomorrow. He smiled when he heard Hayes running his mouth as one of the other guys had him in a headlock, just messing around.
His smile, however, faded quickly as it had been prone to do recently.
The thoughts he’d been struggling with came out of nowhere. One minute he’d be fine, laughing and joking around with his new teammates. The next, it was as though he was standing on the beach where the sea met the sand, a wave of sorrow slamming into him and knocking him right onto his ass. And every time he tried to get up, another one would come right after, making sure he couldn’t.
One of the things TK’s therapist had warned him about heavily was the depression that often follows one’s recovery. There were several reasons why it would hit, the main being that recovery is equivalent to a tragic loss. As a loner, there were many times when the drugs and alcohol were better friends to TK than a lot of other people, especially before he’d met Ty.
The act of getting sober and the optimistic excitement that came with it had shifted into feeling as though he’d been through a horrible breakup. When the melancholy overtook him, the first thing he wanted to do was reach for a bottle or rip a few lines. And not having that coping mechanism to rely on anymore intensified every challenge by a thousand.
He’d FaceTimed Ty about it last night in the midst of one of his panic attacks, which he’d been able to successfully quell by incorporating the breathing technique Ryan had shown him that night on the kitchen floor.
“Do you feel, like, sad at all? Because I do. I know I should be happy, proud, all those things. But I’m not, baby. I just feel…I’m sad, like, all the time.”
Ty nodded. “Yeah. The only times it doesn’t hurt too bad are when I hit the ice and when I talk to Rook. Aside from that?” He’d paused, sighing. “I’m sad, too, Teek.”
“I wanna see you. I wanna hang out with you again,” TK had said, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I know we can’t. We shouldn’t. It just hurts so bad because I miss you so much.”
“Come on, Teek. Don’t cry. You’re gonna make me cry too, man.”
“You’re…the only person who cares about me, Ty Hayes. The only person who even gives a shit if I live or die.”
