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Even though I told myself she had to be in the restroom, or sitting alongside the other wives and girlfriends of the players instead of my family, there was still this little part of me that twisted deep down, causing me to think of the worst-case scenario.
But I couldn’t allow myself to go there. When I was suited up on the ice, everything else in my life had to take a back seat. I had to perform not just for myself and my lifelong goals, but for my team, too. With only twelve regulation losses in the regular season, there was no way this cup wasn’t going to be ours in the next few hours.
Taking all the strength I could manage, my eyes pulled from the stands, and I shook myself out of it, preparing for the puck to drop.
My gaze was laser focused on where the puck was moving and connecting each pass as we moved up the ice. In between line changes, the guys were communicating flawlessly. Each and every one of us were playing the best goddamn game of our lives.
After just ten minutes into the first period, we secured the first goal, giving our team the momentum we needed to control the game going forward. And with another ten minutes off the clock, the score remained one to zero as we walked down the tunnel for the first intermission.
Two more periods to go.
We had the lead, but one goal was nothing with this much time left on the clock. Anything could happen within seconds if done perfectly.
The locker room was silent as each and every one of us remained in the zone.
“Play hard, keep going, and have the fucking game of your lives” was all Coach left us with.
So, for the last two periods, and the rest of the game, that’s exactly what we did. We played like our lives depended on it.
Scoring the game-winning goal and giving the Neon a three-to-two lead was exactly what we needed to accomplish what childhood dreams were made of. For the first time in my career, I’d become a Stanley Cup Champion.
As the buzzer echoed throughout the arena, the bench cleared. Sticks, gloves, and helmets went flying. When the clock hit zero, my skates left the ice as I jumped onto my closest teammate. Before I could get a word out, the rest of the team had formed around us huddled in one giant circle.
Choked up cries, and “We did it! We fucking did it!” fell from our mouths as we stood in shock and disbelief that as a team we’d done it together. From the very first game to the last, we’d played our hearts out, and in just the fourth year of my career, I’d set out and done what some professional hockey players would never experience in their lifetime.
After the madness had calmed in the slightest, it was finally time to do what I’d witnessed so many others do but could only dream of doing myself—hold the cup.
In a moment that I wanted to last forever, with the cold silver in the palm of my hands, pumping over my head with the world’s largest grin on my face, I’d finally looked into the stands to take in the roaring crowd around me.
My gaze lifted to the suite, locking on my family and reading their expressions, each one telling me how proud they were of me with just one single look. But just as I had before the game started, I looked for my wife, only to see she was still nowhere to be found.
She was on her way down to the ice to celebrate; she had to be.
But minutes later when my family and friends flooded the ice along with everyone else, she still wasn’t here.
The best day of my life and the weight of the smile on my face turned in an instant. What I thought were tears of joy from my family at a distance, only proved to be the last thing I expected as they held me in their arms, pulling me down the tunnel and off the ice before I had a chance to think straight.
When we were all out of view from the hundreds of cameras capturing such an intimate moment, I fell to my knees, hearing what was supposed to be “I’m so proud of you, son” falling from my father’s lips, but instead, “I’m sorry, son. She’s gone.”
The weight of those words felt heavier than any Stanley Cup could ever be.
My body started to do that thing where it felt as if I were free falling, only to jolt my eyes open and realize I’d fallen asleep on the couch. I shook myself out of it only to comprehend that my confession to Andi followed me home, and now I couldn’t get it off my mind.
Why would someone consider breaking their rules for a man as fucked up as me?
Granted, Andi didn’t know the whole story, and she didn’t know me when I was at my worst.
Thank fuck for that.
But then it occurred to me, this road trip was for us to get to know each other. Not just for me to get to know her and the reasoning behind her brother being in prison. I was going to have to open up to her whether it was uncomfortable or not.
Mentioning I had a late wife was one thing, but talking about the dark details of it all was an entirely different story.
Turning off the game, I tossed the remote to the side and made my way upstairs to my bedroom. A shower and some sleep would have to be enough, but something told me I’d be tossing and turning until the sun came up.
Hunter: I’m here. Want me to come up and get you?
What on earth was this man thinking?