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“Why do you look so worried?” Gia interrupts my thoughts, as I stare blindly at the television.
I glance over at her; her brown eyes watch me carefully. “What makes you think I’m worried?”
“You’re doing that thing where you twist your hair up.” Astria hops off of my knee and grabs one of her toys from the floor.
I release my hair from my hand.
“Am not.” I counter. She knows my tells, and we both know I’m lying.
“Mhmm.” She sighs, but she doesn’t stop watching me. She sets her laptop to the side and gets up and walks over to where I sit.
She sits down beside me and stares at the television. She mimics my body language, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees. She tugs at her hair, and it bounces back. Mine doesn’t bounce. I smile to myself, but I stay focused and so does she. It’s like she’s trying to see what I see. She watches the Megalodons skate toward the net.
I hold my breath as they set up the shot.
“It’s Henegan. Watch him closely. He’s half a second behind them every time. Something is wrong.” I pick the piece of hair back up I was just twirling between my fingertips.
Henegan’s showing his weakness. That doesn’t bode well for the remainder of the season for the Renegades. We all have our weaknesses, but when an injury starts affecting the entire team, and anyone with a set of eyes can see it, that’s not good for the home team. A hockey team is only as good as their goaltender. Maybe that sounds arrogant, but it’s the truth.
We are the lifeblood of the fucking team.
“That sucks.” She bumps her shoulder into mine, and I drop my hair from my hand again. “Hey, you hear back from Raleigh today?”
Henegan blocks the shot, fuck. It was messy. The entire game has been messy. If they want to keep up their hot streak the Renegades are going to have to do something else and quick. They can’t keep playing like this. The team’s a ticking time bomb, and it’s only a matter of time before the commentators start talking.
The chatter has been circulating for a while now. It’s not much of a secret anymore.
“I called them back, but once they got my medical records they passed.”
Fucking Raleigh. Add that to the list of teams that won’t even let me touch the ice. You die one fucking time, I swear.
“Again?”
You’re a liability son.
“It’s the third team this month.”
Sorry, but we can’t take the risk, Henderson.
“It’s also the middle of the season, Damien.” Gia places her hand on my thigh and squeezes. She tries to reassure me, but I’m starting to doubt myself.
Doubt isn’t something I’m used to dealing with, and I don’t fucking know what to do with it. Gia’s viral video got me loads of attention. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t inflate my ego a bit. I was confident. My phone was ringing off the hook. She was right, it was a game-changer. The problem? Even with full medical clearance to play, when it comes down to it, I’m a risk that no one is willing to take a chance on.
“Yeah, but this is after they’ve reached out to me first. They see the film. They see the shots, and my portfolio is stellar, all thanks to you. Then they get my medical records and run for the hills.”
Renegades win. That was too close. I turn off the television and drop my head down into my hands. I run my hands through my long hair. It’s even longer now than I usually keep it, my beard too.
I just want a fighting chance. I blew through my rehab program. I’ve more than surpassed every milestone the doctors wanted to see from me. Hell, I might be in better condition now than I was before the fight.
I just need game time. I need to get back on the ice. I need to feel the adrenaline from a game rushing through my veins. I want to be a part of a team. It’s part of who I am, and I’m not ready to give that up. It’s not time. My career has only just begun.
“Not the right team, not the right time.” Gia draws circles on my thigh. I take her hand in mine and lace our fingers together. This is something she’s said multiple times to me over the past few months. Every rejection I’ve faced, she’s answered it with logic and reason that I can’t seem to find.
I don’t deserve her. I want to show her that I can be more than the man she married. She’s never asked me for more, but she deserves it. They both deserve it. I want to show her that I can be more for Astria. I want to give them the world, and right now it’s not happening no matter how hard I try to force it.
“You keep saying that, but this is the first season since I was old enough to hold a stick that I’m a spectator to the sport that I love. God, I hate it, Gia. I’m sorry, it’s not fair that I unload all of this on you, but I’m starting to rethink my decision to wait it out.” I scrub my free hand down my face.
My phone lights up and buzzes on the couch next to me with a familiar number. Gia pats my thigh one more time before standing up and picking up Astria. She positions her on her hip as if she doesn’t weigh over twenty-five pounds.
