Page 288 of Cross Check

“Coach Green,” Brad amends. “We want to know the extent of your personal relationship with her.”

“I’m in love with her. We were together for two years, and she’s the most important person in my life. This has been said many times already, but I want to reiterate that at no point did our personal relationship every cross into our professional roles. There’s no overlap, no misuse of power. She was adamant about not engaging in a physical relationship for many years,” I say.

“And yet she’s the one who initiated it, based on what she told the conduct review board at her own meeting. Perhaps she was waiting for the right moment to persuade you into a relationship that she would use to her advantage. Based on your timeline, not long after you two became intimate, she became the head coach of the Sea Crabs.” Brad stares at me through the screen. “Is it possible she used knowing you as leverage for the position?”

“That’s impossible. Darcy, the owner of the Sea Crabs, sought her out before Li—Amelia—and I were even together. Darcy wanted her, and she was hired entirely on her own merit. I’m flattered you think a guy like me has enough power and influence to encourage a professional sports team to hire a head coach.”

“What happened here was an inappropriate display of power and behavior on her part, and an unfortunate lack of understanding from you. She⁠—”

“Are you going to reference the specific article in the CBA that says the two of us are not allowed to be together?” I ask, and Brad blinks.

“There doesn’t need to be an article in the CBA for it to be considered wrong.”

“So, technically, we didn’t break the rules because there were no rules to break, correct?”

“There were no rules to break, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t morally⁠—”

“It was sex, Brad, not hard performance enhancing drugs,” I deadpan, and Coach chokes on his water. “We all know why this is happening: The league is in the center of conversations, and you all want to make yourselves look as good as you can by saving your own asses. Punishing and making an example out of us are the only ways to do that, and because you didn’t have enough foresight to include situations involving personal relationships in the CBA to begin with, you’re playing catch up.” I lean back in my chair and laugh. “It’s cute that you honestly believe Amelia and I were the only ones sneaking around. I hope a dozen more couples come forward to how you how backward your thinking is.”

“Who may or may not be sneaking around is not the topic of conversation.” Brad’s face starts to turn red. I give myself a pat on the back. “Coach Green has been suspended for eight games, a number that could’ve—and should’ve—been much higher. Due to her recent success at the Olympics, the conduct review board felt a longer suspension would warrant even more questions and negative debate from fans who don’t understand the severity of the situation.”

“Can you tell me the severity of the situation, Brad? Why do you care that two people are sleeping together? Is it because you think every woman who works for an organization is involved with someone else in the league? That can’t be your thought process, because by that logic, every hockey player would be guilty of the things one hockey player did. And that doesn’t seem right.”

“We’d be having this same discussion if the roles were reversed and a man was the one who acted so out of line.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. Arguing with this guy is pointless. Nothing I say is going to get him to change his mind, and the sooner I get my punishment, the better. “So I’m out for eight games?”

“Eight games?” Brad frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“My suspension. Amelia got eight. I’m getting eight too, right?”

“Coach Green is suspended for eight games because she is the person with the higher-ranking job who made the mistake. Because of your contributions to your community, your reputation in the league for having low penalty minutes, and your performance in multiple Stanley Cup appearances and the Olympics, the conduct review board feels a one-game suspension is sufficient enough for your actions.”

“Fuck,” Coach mumbles.

I lift my chin and stare at the man on the screen. I put my hands on the table and lean as close to the computer as I can so he can’t miss a single word I’m going to say.

“We both know the only reason her punishment is harsher than mine is because she’s a woman,” I whisper.

The words are clipped with anger. I’m close to throwing a chair at the wall, because every goddamn thing Lia has ever said to me about her place in the league, about how men feel about her belonging in this sport, about the difference in treatment because she’s not part of the boys’ club, is true.

This man is the living proof that no matter how many barriers she breaks, there’s always going to be another river she’s going to have to cross. They’re going to keep moving the goal posts for her, and she’s never going to catch up.

“Excuse me?” Brad asks.

“That woman has as many Stanley Cup wins as I do. She has as many Olympic gold medal victories as I do. The only fucking reason I’m only getting a slap on the wrist while she’s being put through hell is because she’s a woman, and I’m a man,” I say. “This isn’t about power. This isn’t about stats or victories or win percentages. This is about making the league look like how you want it to look, not how the fans and the world want it to look. You only want to suspend me a game? Fine. But you just made yourself an enemy, Brad, because I am not going to rest until I find a way for Lia and I to be together. I’m not going to rest until that woman is inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame, and when she is, I’m going to make goddamn sure you’re the one forced to present the honors to her. I’m going to make you look her in the eye and tell her how much she’s changed the sport.”

I jab the button to end the call and sit back in my seat and scrub a hand over my face. My blood is rushing in my ears. My hands are shaking, and all I can see around me is red. The room is silent, and when I heave a deep breath, I turn to look at Coach.

“If you want to suspend me another game for that outburst, I’ll understand,” I tell him. “Talking shit to the man in charge of the league wasn’t my smartest move, but I⁠—”

I’m caught off guard when Coach leans over and puts his arms around me. He’s giving me a hug, and I can’t explain it. I don’t know why it happens when it does. I have been doing really fucking well holding it together, but when he hugs me, I start to cry all over again.

“No suspension,” he grumbles, and it makes a laugh sneak out of me. “I really want to give you a goddamn medal for telling that guy what a piece shit he is. I’ve hated him for years.”

“Really? Seems like a nice dude,” I joke, and Coach pulls away. “Thank you. I didn’t mean for this to drag into the Olympics or what’s left of our regular season games. That wasn’t my intention, and I’m sorry if it’s become a distraction.”

“I’m pissed about it, to be honest. But only because you were playing much better hockey when no one knew about your relationship. Now that you’re the center of every conversation, you’re off your game.” Coach gives me a rare smile. “But we’ll get you back there. I’m not worried.”