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“She knows how much I miss my girl.”

He begins swiping, letting me enjoy images of his giant dog dressed in all kinds of outfits.

“Look, she even has my jersey. She wears it on game days to support me.”

“That’s…really something,” I mutter.

“Oh, so he does speak. I thought that maybe you’d forgotten how to or⁠—”

“Shut up, Rov.”

“Yeah, sorry. I just…I don’t like going back to the silent treatment. I thought we were getting somewhere.”

“I’m just going through some shit right now. Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I’m not. You’re just as miserable with everyone else.”

Wonderful.

Thankfully, he takes his cell back and leaves me to sleep. Or I assume that’s what he thinks I’m doing. In reality, I can’t. I just sit there, resting my head against the side, wallowing in my own misery.

Eventually, our plane lands, and we all make our way off toward a bus that will take us to yet another hotel.

I had hoped that being away from home, away from Garrett and everything that happened, would help. Would give me some space to get my head together. But with every day that passes, it’s only getting worse.

I’ve tried to fight it, but the truth is, I need to see him. I need to hear what he has to say, his reasoning for what he did, and only then will I be able to make a decision about what I do next.

Thankfully, the drive to our hotel is fast. We’ve got a night off before morning skate and then another game tomorrow, before moving on again to our final game before heading home.

Detroit.

I should be excited. Hux and Ryk are going to be at that game, and I’ve already gotten permission from Coach to fly back separately from the team so that I can spend some time with them and go to their game the next morning.

But I feel nothing.

I’m looking forward to seeing them, of course I am. But I’m nowhere near as excited as I should be.

All there is, is pain and dread.

Pain from Garrett and dread because of my father.

The last thing I need right now is his opinion on anything.

We go through the motions of getting our key cards and heading up to our rooms. Everyone else is laughing and joking with each other, still riding the high from our win last night.

Without saying anything, I pull my bag higher onto my shoulder before grabbing my suitcase and tugging it behind me toward the elevators.

I don’t know if anyone notices me walk off; I don’t bother looking back. I just keep moving, desperate to be in the confines of my own room.

The ride to my floor is short, and before I know it, I’m tapping to get into my room. I abandon my luggage in the small entrance hall and fall face first onto the bed.

I’m exhausted. My muscles ache from our games and my failure to get any real rest.

You’d think that after back-to-back games and barely any sleep, I’d eventually crash, but it’s yet to happen. The second I even try, my mind starts spinning with a million what-ifs and maybes. It’s driving me fucking wild.

I lose track of time as I lie there. I know some of the guys have plans to go out for food tonight, but I’ve reverted to my old self on this trip and declined any invitation to join them. Even if I wanted to go, I’d be shit company, so I figure I’m saving them the stress of having to put up with me.

I begin to drift off to sleep, which surprises me, but just before I fully enter the blissful land of nod, there’s a knock at my hotel room door.