by M. E. Carter
“Are you breaking up with me? Over this?”
I have to clarify with her that this is just a misunderstanding. That she needs time to lick her wounds but that we’ll be fine in the end and that she knows it too.
Instead, she gives me nothing to make me feel better.
“I don’t know.” Ellery crosses her arms over her chest and looks at the floor. This woman I’ve fallen in love with, the feisty, naïve, inquisitive woman I can’t get enough of may already want to call it quits.
The air is knocked right out of me. This is the worst thing that could happen. It’s worse than when I burned the braised chicken the other day. It’s worse than when Tucker gave my phone number out to a legitimately disturbed puck bunny who called four hundred eighty-seven times in two days. It’s worse than when I found out I was having surgery and was benched for twelve weeks.
My legs almost give out, but my butt finds the stool she was just sitting on first.
“What can I do to fix this?”
She shrugs and I know in this moment, it’s all on her. There’s nothing I can do to make this right. Nothing I can say to ease her concerns. Ellery needs to think through the situation and decide if she trusts me enough to know I would never intentionally or even flippantly harm her. And while my actions speak louder than my words, her wounds are deeper than my love.
“I just need some time.”
Closing my eyes, I hold back the moisture that wants to build. Getting teary over giving her time won’t do either of us any good. She’s spooked. She needs to assess the danger level on her own. And I have to let her. I have to trust in us enough to know she’ll find the truth through all her fear.
When I’m finally feeling solid again, I open my eyes and just look at her. When she finally catches my gaze, I give her what she needs. An out.
“Take whatever time you need. I’ll be here waiting for you.”
She nods once, grabs her stuff, and leaves quietly. The snick of the door closing reverberates like she slammed it right through my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ellery
Concentrating on work has been the only thing keeping me sane lately. Ever since I stormed out of Liam’s house, pissed that he gave me a leg up on the job applicant competition, I’ve been questioning myself and why I’m so mad. I haven’t come up with any answers yet, but I sure have been keeping it locked up in a nice tight little box in my brain.
I’ve been so hyper-focused that when my office phone rings, I jump. Calls are never transferred to me. My clients all have my cell if they need to reach me and if they call the front, usually it’s something the office staff can handle anyway. I almost forgot the phone has a purpose beyond being a paperweight.
I shuffle a few things around and pull it closer to me before picking up the receiver.
“This is Ellery.”
“Hi, Ellery. It’s Annie Hughes from the San Antonio Slingers. How are you?”
My heart leaps and plummets at the same time. I’m excited to hear from her, but it’s also yet another reminder that I haven’t talked to Liam in two days.
I feel bad for walking out on him the way I did. I know he only had good intentions when he made sure my resume was on the top of the pile. But I can’t shake the feeling it gives me that he thinks I’m inept. And that everyone else will too if I were to take the job. Plus, what the fallout would look like if we were to break up. It just feels icky to me.
Logically, I know that’s mostly just my own insecurities, but I can’t shake them. The longer I go without contacting Liam though, the worse I feel when I do allow that little box to crack open. Annie’s phone call isn’t just a reminder that I need to get my act together, it’s also keeping me from distracting myself with the numbers. I’ve been way more productive than normal in the last two days.
“I’m doing well, Annie. How are you? And why are you calling me on my office phone? I thought my cell was the first number on my resume.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says without missing a beat. “I’ve learned over the years that I have a harder time reaching people on their personal number during regular office hours. I thought I’d take a chance and grab you here so we didn’t waste any more time.”
“Oh.” I’m a little taken aback by her candor, but not in a bad way. I like that she’s so direct. “No, it’s fine. I just forgot what it sounded like until it rang.”
She chuckles on the other end of the line but then gets right back to business. “Listen, I know it’s only been a couple of days since we talked but we were really impressed with you.”
“You were?” It’s ridiculous to be shocked by the fact that I have the skills she needs. I know I can fill the position she has open. I guess I’m not used to getting a lot of praise for doing my job.
“Absolutely. We need someone with your skillset, but who can also jump in and do other things as well if needed. We’re sticklers for our employees taking their vacation time and that means helping each other out at times. It’s not every day or even every week. But regularly.”
The more Annie talks, the better the job sounds. It was practically a fight with Mrs. Welch to be able to take two days off to see my parents a couple of months ago. It had been well over a year since I’d taken any time off before then. Knowing the Slingers doesn’t treat people like that makes it look even more enticing. And makes my heart hurt just a little.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” Annie continues. “I don’t need to see any other candidates. I like you. I think you’ll fit right in here. And I have every confidence you can do the job well. What would you think about coming to work for us?”
My mouth gapes open in shock. I knew what she was getting at when she started talking up the company again. But it didn’t seem real until the offer finally came out of her mouth.
“I… don’t know what to say.”
“How about you say yes so we can have you here in two weeks?”
I want to say yes. The work environment alone is so much more positive than what I get working here. Add in the salary and benefits and I’d be stupid not to jump at the chance.
I’m just so afraid of getting myself back into the same situation I’m in now—one where I’m judged by who I’m dating, or maybe more importantly, who I’m broken up with, and am the main topic of the rumor mill in the office. Wouldn’t it be better to go somewhere that doesn’t have any ties to my romantic life? A place where no one cares who I’m sleeping with and my work is judged by how well I do the job and that’s it?
But can I still get all that with the Slingers? I’m just not sure.
I clear my throat from the words that seem to be lodged there. “Um… I don’t think I can.”
“Oh.” She sounds surprised. To be honest, I’m kind of surprised myself. “I was under the impression you were looking to get out of a bad working environment.”
“I am. That’s… that’s true.” I feel myself biting my lip, wanting to tell her the whole truth but battling my desire to remain completely professional as well.
“You don’t have to tell me, obviously,” Annie says. I can still hear the confusion in her voice. “But can I ask why?”
I feel like I owe her an explanation considering I wasted her time with our interview. But maybe if I tell her the whole truth, she’ll understand more and we can put this all to rest.
“I’m dating Liam Tremblay.”
There. I said it. No, I haven’t talked to him in a couple of days, but that doesn’t mean I won’t talk to him again as soon as I get myself under control more.
Relief floods me as I realize I don’t want to break up with Liam. I think I love him. I just need to figure out how to tell him and hope that he’ll forgive my childish behavior.
“Our forward?”
“Yes.”
She pauses briefly, probably processing this information. “And you don’t think you can be professional working for the same organization?”
“It
’s not that. It’s…” I sigh, regretting that I opened this door. I hate that I have to tell her the rest of the truth now. “He told me he saw my resume in your stack last week and when you weren’t looking, he put mine on top of the pile. It just seems like he gave me a leg up on the competition and I don’t think that’s fair.”
“Hmm.”
What does hmmm mean? I hope I didn’t just get him into any trouble.
“Normally I might frown on something like that, but in his defense, I was complaining to him that I needed a good candidate quickly,” Annie says dismissively. “In this situation, I feel like he did me a favor.”
I shift uncomfortably. That’s the exact same thing he said. I’m not sure how to feel about that.
“I know and it was a nice thing he did. Sort of. But we also just started dating and I don’t want something like a break-up to cause problems in the workplace. I’m already living through that.” I mumble that last sentence to myself but I know Annie caught it.
“Ellery, I’d like to meet with you if that’s okay.”
“But…” I stutter, confused by what she’s asking. “For a second interview? I just turned down your offer.”
“I know. I don’t mean here at the office. I’d like to meet you for dinner.”
Now I’m really perplexed. Is this a friendly invitation or a work thing? And why?
“Really?”
“I think this conversation would be better finished in a neutral location without the fear of a co-worker walking in on it, don’t you?”
I can’t even imagine what else there would be to say, but I do like Annie a lot. Dinner with her in a friendly capacity would be more fun than going home to an empty apartment. And she’s right. The last thing I need is someone overhearing this conversation. I can only imagine the fallout if anyone knew I was searching for a new job.
“Can you meet me at Chez Vie at seven?”
I mentally calculate how far away the newest casual restaurant in French food is. Shouldn’t take me too long to get there from here. “Sure. I guess.”
“Great,” Annie says sounding really pleased. “And Ellery? Don’t be late.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Liam
Sweat is dripping down my back. My breathing is heavy. My legs ache from exertion. My body feels amazing.
My shoulder? Not so much.
“How’s it feeling?” Tucker claps me on the back as we waddle on our skates to the locker room.
It was my first day back at full power and I’m discouraged, to say the least. The scrimmage itself was about what I expected. Lots of speed, lots of playful trash talk, lots of skill-building, and lots of body-checks. Admittedly my teammates held back a bit when shoving me into walls in spite of me giving back my no-contact jersey. It pissed me off at first. Now I appreciate it.
I’m not back to normal. Not even close. Very quickly, my new reality is starting to catch up with me and I know deep in my gut no matter how much I try to push it off, my first line days are over.
“It hurts,” I admit to Tucker.
The look on his face confirms what I’m feeling. He knows if I’m going to get back to regular play, I shouldn’t have this kind of pain anymore. It’s painfully obvious that my playing days are quickly coming to a close. It’s only a matter of time and how much torture I’m willing to put myself through.
It doesn’t help that Ellery is still ghosting me. She’s much more of a logical party in this kind of situation and could help me think it through. But I can’t count on her to be a sounding board right now. I’m giving her the space she needs to process my royal fuck up.
Ain’t life grand, right now?
“I’m sorry, man. What are you going to do?
It’s the question I have no answer for right now.
Dropping onto the bench, I blow out a breath and begin the tedious process of stripping out of all my gear.
“I don’t know. I knew surgery was going to be a long shot. I guess I just didn’t expect it to still be causing me this many problems.”
He sighs and sits down next to me. I’m suddenly regretting sharing my thoughts. I never know what Tucker’s response will be.
“You thinking retirement?”
Okay, maybe I did know what his response would be. But it doesn’t make it any less painful to hear.
“I’m not sure I have much of a choice at this point. I can’t even get fucking body-checked.” The words come out harsher than I intend as I chuck my sweaty jersey into the laundry bin. But I’m so damn frustrated.
Tucker slides on his blade covers and hands me mine to do the same. Probably better if I don’t have a weapon attached to my feet while I’m in this kind of mood.
“Wanna know what I think?”
“Not really,” I snap. “But I bet you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Testy, testy.”
I glare at him, not in the mood for his humor.
“Alright, I get it. My charming wit isn’t doing it for you today.” He sighs deeply and rests his elbows on his knees. “Listen, I get it. Things aren’t going the way you want and you’re frustrated.”
“That’s a serious downplay of the situation.”
“Maybe. But did you honestly think you were immune to aging out of the game?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s the deal? Why are you acting like this is such a shock?”
That’s the thing he doesn’t seem to understand. It’s not shock. It’s grief.
Holy shit. That’s the first time I realized what I’m actually feeling. All this anger and frustration is actually a front for how sad I feel at the loss of this huge part of my life. The part that has defined me for as long as I can remember.
I feel like my body deflates now that I finally put that together.
“I guess I just always assumed I’d be the exception to the rule,” I say a little less forcefully now that I can put a name to my emotions.
“Dude. How many times have we had to sit through training sessions where they grill us on the age of retirement and how we need to get all our finances sorted out now? You really thought you were special?”
“How long do you think you have left, man?”
He perks up. “Well obviously, I’m sticking around for at least another decade. But I can skate circles around all you fuckers.”
I snort a laugh while he brings it down a notch.
“I hear ya. And I’m sure I’ll be as irritable as you when it’s my turn,” he admits. “Do you know what you need?”
I roll my eyes and get back to stripping off all my gear. “Oh lord. Here we go.”
“Don’t get all pissy. I have fantastic ideas,” he says as I try to walk away. He just follows, even as I strip down and head toward the showers. “You need to call Ellery, have her ditch work, and meet you at home so she can give you a solid rub down, if you know what I mean.”
If my shoulder wasn’t hurting so badly, I’d run my fist through his face, just to stop that eye waggle if nothing else. Also, because he once again touched on another point of contention in my life.
Pulling on the nozzle, I climb under the cold spray, happy to have the frigid water beating on my back and distracting me from my emotions.
“Can’t,” I yell through the spray. “She’s still not speaking to me.”
“Still? Haven’t you groveled yet?”
“No. And I’m not going to. She needs space so I’m giving it to her.”
He shakes his head in disgust. “Women are so fucking difficult sometimes. This is why I’m single.”
“Is it that or because you’re standing here watching me shower like a fucking perv?”
Tucker’s eyes roll like I’m the one being ridiculous. “Fine. I’ll let you get back to your little rinse off, ya prude. But let’s go for drinks later. I hear we’ve got a new recruit coming and I want to see if Dwayne wants some side action on this.”
As much as Tucker annoys me sometimes, even I ha
ve to admit he’s entertaining. Unfortunately, he’s also right.
I was so sure I would be the guy who outlived everyone in professional hockey. The one who played well past retirement age and could still demand top dollar for my skills. But those were the starry-eyed dreams of an arrogant kid who had never felt the disappointment of life. And now it’s here. The reality of getting older. The midlife crisis when I’m nowhere near middle age.
This is way worse than I expected it to be.
I won’t go down in a blaze of glory with a send-off fit for a king and clips of my best moments played on repeat by SportsCenter as they lament my end to the game. No, I will just quietly be moved down the roster until people say things like, “Liam Tremblay? I remember that name. Didn’t he play hockey once?”
It’s a blow to my ego, but it’s also a hard truth I have to face. I may be special to my family, my friends, my fans. But nothing special past that. None of us are. The sooner I can get my brain around that fact, the sooner I can move on with my life and maybe find happiness somewhere else.
That “somewhere” is hopefully in the arms of one Ellery McIlroy, the woman I wasn’t expecting but is beyond my wildest dreams.
Turning off the spray, I push thoughts of Ellery out of my mind. Thinking about her makes my chest hurt and I can only handle one pain at a time.
I wrap a towel around my waist and think about what needs to be done. First things first, hit the trainers for a little cupping therapy and maybe a good shoulder rub to get rid of some of the tenderness from overcompensation. Then Coach’s office.
I can either do this the easy way or the hard way. But if my shelf life is coming to an end, I should at least know what my options are.
Last, I need to find a way to fix this with Ellery. Because nothing about the word “retirement” sounds good if I don’t have her by my side.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ellery
I’ve never been to Chez Vie, but now that I’m here, I can see what all the fuss is about. It’s not a five-star, sit down for four hours, fancy French restaurant. It’s more like a family-friendly place with a mixture of tables and booths, that also happens to serve French food.