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I beat myself up for the rest of the day, cried for hours. My eyes were bloodshot and felt like sandpaper the next day, but I deserved the pain. I deserve so much more because I’m the reason my wife is hurting so badly. Again.

When I got the call from my agent saying Lisa, the woman I apparently slept with whose name I didn’t even know until that day, was pregnant, I prayed it was a bad joke. That she was just trying to scam me out of money or get another fifteen minutes of fame.

But I was wrong, she had medical records stating she really was. Now we’re just waiting for the paternity test. My lawyer tells me she hasn’t come forward with any intentions on what she wants, but I’m betting it will drop soon.

He said we could pay her off to go away, but the damage was already done. It would have made me look even worse to the public eye if I did that, plus I’m not a heartless dick. If I have a kid out there, I want to raise it.

Even if it costs me the woman I love... I just wish I could have both.

I haven’t given up on us, and I won’t ever. Cecilia may have moved out. She may not want to speak to me or see me. But she’s still Mrs. Hayes. She’s still my wife. And until that changes, I will do everything in my power to get her back, even if it takes years.

I can’t tell where her mind is at or what she plans to do, and that scares me. Does she just need some time and space? Or will I be receiving divorce papers? I hate this waiting, this unknown. I think some part of her doesn’t know, either.

When I brought her car over, I expected it to be sent back or torched. I didn’t think she would want anything from me, but she took it and has been driving it. As well as our joint account that I told her she should still use through a text she never replied to.

Emma told me she quit her job, and even though I know Minnie has savings, I don’t want her running it dry when I have millions in my account.

Though I know Cecilia loved her job, I think she did the right thing. She needs time to heal, to figure out where she wants to go from here. I just hope in the end, it’s back to me.

The house is disgusting. I haven’t been cleaning; the dishes are piled high, and pizza boxes and takeout litter the living room. I haven’t let anyone in the house, so with no housekeeper coming around, well, the place has turned into a dump.

Except for Greyson, who wasn’t taking no for an answer. He shows up every day to get me out of bed, forcing me to train and attend morning practices. Even forcing me to shower when I’ve gone too many days without.

I’ve been trying my best to put my personal problems aside on the ice.

Everyone knows I’m going through some shit, and most have been understanding.

Clay has pretty much been stepping in as captain for now since he’s our alternate captain, at least until I get myself sorted and my head back in the game and on my team.

Although I wouldn’t be surprised if I were stripped of my captaincy by the end of the season. At this point, I wouldn’t even care.

I’m in the middle of a peaceful sleep, the first in a long time, when voices and footsteps resonate through my brain. I open my groggy eyes and blink a few times to clear the fog.

In the corner of the living room, I see Milo’s head pop up, but he doesn’t move from his post. He hasn’t been the same since Minnie left.

He’s depressed, just like me.

“What the fuck? Why is it so dark in here?” someone says from somewhere in the house when blinds are ripped open, and Greyson taps my foot that sticks out from the couch.

“Wake up, Dracula. You can sleep when you’re dead,” he says as he pulls the blanket off me.

I groan in protest and flip onto my stomach. “You do realize that makes no sense, right? You just called me Dracula, Dracula is dead. Which means I can sleep, so fuck off. ”

He kicks my foot again, harder this time. “No, get up.”

“ Ugh! Why are you even here?” I sit up on the couch and look around, noticing Gabe and Noah in the kitchen. They both look down when we make eye contact, and I spin back to Grey with a sick feeling in my gut.

“What’s going on!?” I say urgently, needing an answer.

At that moment, a loud thump sounds behind me. I rise and turn to the noise, finding Clay standing behind the couch with piles of boxes that he just dropped to the ground.

“No... no, not this. You don’t need to do this, she’s coming back. She just needs time. She’ll be back.” I look at all their faces, waiting for someone to agree with me. But they all look at me with pity.

Clay speaks up for the others. “She’s not. She wants her stuff, and I promised her I’d get them. So we’re going to pack up her things whether you like it or not. You can either make this easy for everyone or make it hard. But at the end of the day, I’m still walking out of here with her things.”

He looks to his left at Noah and Gabe, motioning them to go on. “Grab some boxes and start up in the room. She still has clothes in the closet and take anything that seems to belong to a woman. If we take things that aren’t hers, we’ll just bring them back when she’s sorted through it all.”

“NO, STOP! Don’t fucking touch her things! You can’t fucking do this!” I try to sidestep Greyson, but he puts his hand to my chest.

“Stop, Silas. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can leave. I know it sucks, but it’s what she asked for. Respect that.”

“Fuck!” I drop back to the couch and push the heels of my palms into my eyes, forcing the tears to stay in place. I’ve cried enough over the last weeks . My eyes are already raw from it.

She’s really leaving me... she can’t even stand to have her things here anymore. She’s fully erasing herself from our life... from me.

Milo walks over and jumps on the couch, nestling between my arm and body over my lap. He whimpers softly as I stroke his fur. “I know... I miss her too.”

An hour later, and multiple filled boxes out of the house, I walk up to my room, dragging my feet along the way. I feel lost and empty. This place used to be so beautiful, filled with love and laughter. But now it just feels hollow and dull.

I don’t want to be here anymore. I hate it here. My only reminder left is our backyard—where we got married. It was the most beautiful day of my life, and now it’s all I have. A distant memory.

I go to the bathroom first and notice drawers empty of all her products, her shampoo and conditioner no longer in the shower. I take a deep breath and exit, wandering over to the walk-in. Where the left side used to be filled with color and life, it now consists of empty walls and hangers.

In the corner near the end, I notice some balled-up fabric. Walking over, I bend and pick it up to inspect it. It’s one of Minnie’s satin pajama tank tops, I remember her wearing it to bed often. I remember ripping it off her body right before we made love the last time that she wore it.

I bring up one of the thin straps, and like expected, it’s broken. I lift the fabric up to my nose and take in a big lungful of her scent. It still smells like her. Fuck…

I drop to the ground, my back to the drawers and knees bent up. With the fabric over my face, I pour my heart out into it as Milo joins me, cuddling up close.

Someone comes to the entrance of the walk-in. I can hear them breathing, but they don’t speak for a long time, giving me my moment.

“Sy...” Greyson says from beside me, kneeling down and placing his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s... it’s all I have left... she’s gone.

.. my wife is gone... she left me...” Snot leaks from my nose, tears drenching her shirt.

I’m a fucking pathetic mess. “A shirt... a fucking broken pajama shirt is the only evidence of my wife left...” I fold my arms over my knees and howl into them. “She’s gone and never coming back...”

“Hey, you don’t know that, okay? Yeah, this is a setback in your relationship, but it doesn’t mean it’s over.

She hasn’t said so, has she?” he asks. I shake my buried head from side to side in response.

He nods. “See, that’s a good thing. It means she hasn’t thought about it.

I think she just needs time and space. Cecilia is smart, and she loves you like crazy.

She’ll come to her senses and come back. I’m sure of it.”

I hope he’s right, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.

Heavy footsteps approach us, and I look up when a deep sigh is exhaled by the person. “Give me the shirt, Silas,” Clay says with an outstretched hand.

“Fuck off, Burkley! Leave him the damn shirt. She can buy another one,” Greyson growls at Clay.

“Fine. Whatever. Keep it, we’re done here.”

He turns to leave, but Greyson stops him with a shout. “How can you be so fucking heartless!? He’s your best fucking friend, and you act like he’s just some stranger having a meltdown.”

“I’m not the one who fucked up! He is! I fucking told him he was being an idiot that night, but he didn’t listen, and now he’s paying the price. That’s not my problem.”

“Last I checked, you were fucking around on your wife too when you first got together. So what? You get a free pass, but he doesn’t?” Greyson spits at him with venom.

“The difference is I didn’t wait until I was married to get my free pass! And I sure as fuck didn’t knock her up!” Clay turns on his heels and marches out of the room.

“He’s right...” I say quietly, leaning my head back against the drawers with closed eyes as I sniffle.

“No. Fuck him, Hayes. You made a drunken mistake. This will all sort itself out. It’s not the end. I know you can’t see that right now, but I’m telling you it’s not. You just need to keep fighting for what you want. Okay?”

I open my eyes and find him staring at me in earnest. He truly believes every word he says, and I have to believe it, too.

If I want my wife back, I need to believe this isn’t the end.