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“First of all, do you know how busy I was? The NHL isn’t the fuckin’ AHL, Amara. Between practices, appearances, press, interviews…”
“Rippin’ lines of coke out of strippers’ asscracks.”
“OK, that’s a very specific accusation. There was one trip to a strip club. There may have been some coked-up sex, but I assure you, no asscracks were involved.”
“So proud of you, Ty. You’ve really made it.” She rolled her eyes and walked over to the sink, distracting herself by drying dishes and putting them away.
“What’s up your ass? Seriously, why are you being so cold to me?”
She slammed a mug on the counter, shattering it and startling him. “Why am I being so cold? This bruise?” she yelled, pointing to her face. “Is from Neil Halloway. When we went upstairs to hook up, I found out he was married and tried to stop it, but he wouldn’t let me. I tried to fight my way out and got punched in the fucking face! That’s why Ryan beat his ass, and that’s why he’s been reassigned to Worcester, for sticking up for me when they just wanna sweep it under the rug. All the while, my best friend, the only person in this fucking world I trust, has ghosted me for almost three days. So, forgive me for being so cold, Tyler. I was physically assaulted and nearly raped. But hey, I’m sorry for being a bitch.”
He had a look of complete shock on his face, then folded his arms and dropped his head onto them against the counter.
“You better fucking say something. You’ve had three days to be quiet.”
He picked his head up and wiped his eyes. “Amara,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t fuckin’ know.”
She’d only seen him cry one other time.
“Well, now you do. And Ryan and I haven’t spoken since that night. I’ve been…completely alone to deal with this, Ty.”
He got up, walked over to her, and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m a dick. And I’m sorry.”
She hugged him back, melting into his arms and inhaling his intoxicating scent deeply. She’d missed it so much.
He pulled away after a few moments. “So, when’s he gotta be in Mass?”
“By Friday.”
“Shit. Where is he? How is he?”
She shrugged. “I told you, we haven’t talked. He left this,” she said, holding up the letter, “on the counter today, and that’s the only reason I know. He’s been in his room all day.”
“Should I try to go talk to him?”
“I mean…”
Just as she said that, his door opened, and he came down the hallway struggling with three huge bags. Tyler went over to help, grabbing one from him.
“Hayes. Back already?”
“Yep. They only wanted me to stay for two games, try me out. I may get called up again if there’s an injury, but for right now, roster’s full, so I’m back in Bridgeport.”
“You going home?”
“Nah. We have a game Friday. Wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Well, I’m on my way to Worcester for at least two weeks, so hi and bye, I guess.”
“That’s shitty, man. Amara filled me in, and you did what you had to fuckin’ do. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, well. No good deed goes unpunished, right?” He put his two bags down on the floor. “Amara, I need to talk to you before I leave.”
“You’re not leaving until tomorrow, right? I thought we’d spend Thanksgiving here.”
“I’m leaving right now.”
“Now?” she yelled. “Ryan, you’re gonna be alone for Thanksgiving?”
