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Coach pulls me aside afterward to check in. “You looked good out there today. You feeling game ready?”
“I’m ready to be back out there with my team.”
“This is a good team to be up against for your first night back,” he says.
Last night wouldn’t have been smart with Madden and Grace all over each other. But we’ve beat Buffalo every game this season, so we’re feeling strong about a win tonight. “I agree.”
He nods and rubs his chin. “Everything else okay?”
I’m sure he’s noticed the tension between me and Roman. Unlike Madden and Stiles, we’re not duking it out on the ice, but Roman doesn’t hide his death stares.
“I’m working out some personal stuff,” I say.
“Will that impact how you play tonight? There’s no shame in needing a little more time, Hollis.”
They’re giving me an out, but I’m not inclined to take it. “I’m good. I need to put my focus somewhere, and the ice is the best place for it.”
“Okay.” He raps on the arm of his chair. “If that changes, you let me know.”
“Will do.”
I avoid my hotel room between practice and the game and spend a few hours with Flip and Tristan, since Dallas and Ashish are with Roman. I don’t like the divide this creates. My unease follows me into the locker room as I suit up for the game. And it doesn’t let up when we step out onto the ice, or when I take my place on the bench. What Tristan said keeps rolling around in my head. When I ended things with Aurora, I thought I was doing the right thing after doing the wrong thing for months. Did I step back when I should have stepped forward? Am I allowing myself to be sidelined?
“You got this, man,” Palaniappa says. “You played well during practice. Stay out of your head, and you’ll be fine.” We watch Stiles and Madden pass the puck back and forth, skating toward Buffalo’s net. Tonight, they’re fighting to stay out of the bottom of the playoffs.
“I’ll do my best.”
Madden and Stiles rotate off, and I rotate on with Bright. Spencer passes the puck to him, and we skate down the ice, heading for Buffalo’s net. I lose speed as I head for the crease, not wanting to repeat history, but I miss an easy pass because I’m being too cautious. We scramble for control. I shake it off and remind myself that I have a decade of professional ice time. I can play better than this.
Bright commands the puck, but Buffalo is playing like their lives depend on it, and their goalie deflects every shot, keeping the score at zero. We rotate off, and Madden and Stiles rotate back on. They do what we couldn’t and score the first goal of the game. Buffalo is desperate to even it up, but Hammerstein shuts them out, and defense is playing tight.
Bright and I take the ice again, and I push aside my fears of another injury and try to keep my head in the game. This time, I don’t slow when I approach the crease. I make the turn and the pass, but I almost collide with a Buffalo player. I avoid the hit, but slam into the boards and go down.
“You all right, man?” Palaniappa asks as I get to my feet.
“Yeah, just playing like it’s my first time on skates.” I test my knee to make sure everything feels fine before I chase the puck down the ice. But that fall cost me precious seconds—the kind we can’t afford in a game like this, let alone when we make it to the playoffs.
We’re still leading 1-0 at the end of the first period. I follow my teammates down the hall to the locker room, the weight of the truth hitting me. I’m distracted, worried I’m going to do something to screw up my knee—or the game, and then Aurora will feel like it’s her fault. We’re playing against a team fighting to get themselves out of the bottom position. It will only get more intense. Especially if we keep the lead, or increase it.
“You gotta pull me from the game,” I tell Coach Vander Zee once we’re in the locker room.
“You need the doc to look at your knee?” he asks, suddenly on alert.
I shake my head. “My knee feels fine, but I can’t play the way the team needs me to tonight, and I don’t want to be the reason everyone else has to play harder and better. I’m not willing to risk this game for my ego.”
“You want me to sit you out this period?” Vander Zee asks.
“I need you to sit me out the rest of the game.” This is what Aurora feared, that the rift between me and Roman would screw our chances in the playoffs. But it’s me that’s the problem, because I fucked everything up. Because I don’t have the one person I love more than anyone else. Keeping it a secret didn’t stop me from falling for her. It isn’t time we need, it’s for me to get my head out of my ass. Aurora grounds me, inspires me. She owns my heart, and I’ve lost her. Because I’m terrified of getting hurt. So I broke my own heart before she could. Like a fucking idiot. I’ve screwed myself over, but I can’t screw my team over, too.
“Does this have anything to do with the personal stuff you got going on?”
I start to shake my head but stop. I can’t compartmentalize what’s going on with me and Aurora and Roman. I won’t be able to play my best until I fix this. It’s about having the person at my side who makes me want to be better, do better, live a fuller life. I had that with Aurora. She’s been there to lift me up when things were hard. She’s been my champion through two injuries. And I want her back. Not in a couple of years, like I told her, but now. I want to navigate the new path with her. I don’t care if she’s just graduating university. I don’t give a shit that there’s more than a decade separating us, or that people might have opinions. I love her. I’m in love with her, and I don’t want to wait for the timing to be right. This is as right as it gets. I want her now, and I’ll gladly take whatever challenges that brings if I can have her at my side.
“Hollis?” Coach asks.
“I can’t be what the team needs right now, and I don’t want to put us at a disadvantage,” I say again. I don’t want to explain it any further. I need to get Aurora back before I can be useful to my team.
He nods. “We’ll meet when we’re back in Toronto to talk this through.”
