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M ax found himself sitting in his garage at home while the rest of his team were across town taking the ice at the Condors arena for a practice he wasn’t a part of. The paperwork for his medical leave sat on the seat next to him, his years of dedication and training summed up in a neat manila folder; it felt like a smack in the face because that folder made it official. He was counting down the days until he was no longer an Anaheim Condor, or an NHL goalie. The only two things he had ever known himself to be.

He was supposed to be signing his big bridge contract this year, not announcing his retirement.

This was not okay.

He was not okay.

And this time, Max knew it was okay to not be okay.

The team had taken it harder than he expected. The questions they asked were all ones he’d readied himself for, all questions he had asked himself a million times already: Is it treatable? Is there a medicine that could cure it or slow it down? Can you play a few more games? Can you finish the season?

The answer was no.

Then there was the hardest question: Will this be your final year with the Condors?

The answer was yes.

The hardest yes he had said since he had decided to live a life of yeses.

His phone buzzed, and he knew it was Remi. She both worried about him and reminded him not to worry. She was the only thing keeping him grounded at this point, and he couldn’t help but think back to the day they met and wonder if some higher power had it all planned out for them, for her to come into his life just when he needed her. He remembered sitting on his bed after he had broken the lamp, and the way his body came alive at the simple brush of her finger against his—his connection to her was instant.

He opened his home screen and found that the text was not from Remi at all, but from Jack Brown, inviting him to meet up after practice to talk, and maybe grab some food if Max was up for it.

He wasn’t up for it but agreed to it anyway.

For too long he had said no, and where had that gotten him? A big house that had never seen guests. Great accomplishments with no one to celebrate them with. A whole hockey team of great men who felt like family, yet they knew almost nothing about him. Max was done hiding, with his words guarded, tucked away in the back of his mind.

So, he said yes.

And then he called Remi.

“Hey, you,” she said cheerfully. She knew that today was the big day, so he wasn’t surprised she was using her extra welcoming voice.

“Hey. I’m sitting in the garage,” he said.

“Did you just get home?” she asked.

“No, I just can’t seem to pull myself out of it.”

It being the moment, the spiral, the reality—the manila folder on the seat next to him, mocking him.

“That’s okay. If sitting in your Jeep is where you need to be, then stay put. There’s no rules about this, Max. No books written on how to properly handle what you’re going through.”

“I told them,” he said.

He could hear her breath falter on the other line. “How’d it go?”

“It went as to be expected. Big emotions. Lots of support. Lots of tough questions.”

“How do you feel about it now?”

“At first, I felt numb. And then angry. Now I’m a little relieved. I keep having this weird sense of freedom knowing I don’t have to be the last line of defense for my team anymore. Which also feels kind of shitty.”

“Do you think that might be a sort of defense mechanism? Almost like your brain protecting you from the reality of what’s going on?”

“Maybe? But I try and buy into it, ya know? I don’t want to play into the opposite of those thoughts, the ones that tell me I’m nothing if I’m not a goalie.”

Remi took a second, and for a moment he thought the call had failed.

“You there?” he asked.

“I am. I’m just trying to comprehend how you’re taking this so well. I’m just really fucking proud of you, Max.”

“I’m not taking it as well as I’m letting on, Rem. But I think I might need to fake it for a while, just to help me through the rest of this season.”

“Sometimes that’s all we can do.”

The line went silent again. Remi made silence safe.

“Jack Brown,” he started, “the other goalie. He wants to get dinner tonight to talk.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“I think I want to go.”

“Good. I think you need to rely on your team now more than ever.”

He ran his hands over the steering wheel, they were clammy with anxiety. “I rely on you ,” he said.

“You do, and you always can, but they have something I can’t offer.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“They know what it’s like to be an NHL player, I don’t. I can’t even imagine how hard you worked to get there, but they can, Jack Brown can—especially with him being a goalie. They’re going to know how to console you in ways I can’t even fathom, Max.”

“How do you always know what to say?” he asked.

Remi let out a long sigh on the other end, and then playfully said, “Because I’m fucking awesome.”

Max laughed. “This is true.”

“So, should I just head back to my place and call it a night?” she asked.

“I was actually thinking you might come with me?”

“You don’t think it’ll be weird? He might want you all to himself.”

Max took a deep breath, and then gently reminded her, “I can’t drive myself, Rem, it’ll be dark. I’m sorry to ask. I can just call an Uber.”

“No,” she nearly shouted, “no Uber. I’m sorry. I just—it just slipped my mind.”

“It’s okay, I don’t expect you to be my personal driver. It’s more than that really. I think I want you with me, I want to introduce you to someone I know. I want my team to know you.”

“Okay. I would love to come meet him. And Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Driving with you has become one of my favorite things to do, please don’t ever feel like it’s a burden.”

“That’s going to take some work,” he admitted.

“I know, but I’ll keep reminding you.”

“See you soon?” he asked.

“I have to go home and get ready first; I cleaned four houses today. I smell like pine sol, bleach, and sweat.”

“Mmmm,” he said, “my favorite smells.”

***

Max held Remi’s hand as they walked into the restaurant, letting her take the lead. On the drive over she shared with him that she was nervous about meeting his teammate, and ultimately the man that would take Max’s place in front of the net. She said she couldn’t be sure if she resented him or not, and while Max didn’t admit it to her, he shared the same feelings. He didn’t want her to resent Brown just as much as he didn’t want to resent his teammate, but Remi was allowed to have big emotions in all of this too. Even if she was new to all of this, she was allowed to mourn the end of his career. She had fallen in love with him, claiming that part had come easy to her, and with loving him, came loving hockey. She told him she would miss watching him play and that she hadn’t realized that until now—now that it was all so final.

The host showed them to their table and Max was shocked to find his team captain, Patrick Carter, there as well. Both men stood and brought Max in for a hug, their faces inviting, but he didn’t miss the underlying hints of sadness.

“Guys, this is Remi, my girlfriend and personal driver,” he said, only half joking.

Remi shook both of their hands and handled their introductions with ease.

“I’m Patrick Carter, sorry for inviting myself,” he said with a warm smile that showed a missing front tooth.

“That’s okay,” Remi said. “It’s a double date now,” she teased with a wink.

“And I’m Jack Brown. Thanks for joining us.”

Remi gave both of them a single-dimple smile and thanked them for having her.

“We’re happy you came,” Carter said to Remi, “Max is kind of a closed book. It’s nice to finally see into his world. To know that he has someone caring for him.”

They all took their seats and placed drink orders with the server.

“So, this is weird,” Carter said jokingly.

“If you invited me for good conversation, you should have known better,” Max teased back.

They all laughed.

“Today was a lot,” Brown spoke up. “I guess me and Carter just wanted to see you and make sure you’re okay. It all happened pretty fast. It was like one second you were telling the team you’re retiring and then we had practice, business as usual. It felt unfinished I guess, like there wasn’t any real closure. Not for the team anyway, and I’m guessing not for you either.”

Max looked over at Remi, she gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze, a reminder that she was with him, and that he was safe.

“I felt the same way. I just sat in my garage when I got home,” Max said, and they all laughed again.

“Is that what you’ve been doing for all these years when we’ve invited you out with the team after a win?” Carter joked.

Max took a second, sipped his drink, and then answered honestly. “Yeah. Pretty much. I mean, I didn’t sit in my garage, but I definitely hid away. I wish I had done things differently,” he said, his voice trailing off at the end.

“We all have those thoughts,” Brown said. “But what’s important is that we realize that sort of thing before we live our whole lives without making any necessary changes.”

“When did you get so wise?” Carter asked the young goalie.

“I’ve had a great mentor,” he said, looking over at Max.

Max, surprised, brought his hand to point at himself. “Me?” he asked, shocked.

“Yeah, you,” Brown said. “You may not say much, but when you do talk, it’s exactly what people need to hear. I became the goalie I am today because you didn’t say a lot. When you gave me feedback, I knew it was genuine, I knew it was important, because you didn’t give it often. I hung on to every word you ever told me. And more often than not, it was exactly what I needed.”

Max wasn’t expecting this. He didn’t come prepared for admissions of the heart. He hadn’t even known anyone felt this way about him, but he was grateful it was being said.

“You know, when I first met Max,” Remi started, “he told me he wasn’t great with conversation, but I think I agree with Jack. I think he’s just cautious with his words, and I think that makes being someone he chooses to share them with feel extra special.”

Max took a drink of the cocktail the server had brought and ran a nervous thumb over the condensation dripping down the side of his glass. “There is one thing though, that I wish I had said more,” Max admitted.

They all waited in a safe, but still a little awkward, silence for him to go on.

“I wish I had said yes to the celebrations, the dinners, and the friendships. I wish I had gotten to know the team on a more intimate level. I was always so afraid of not knowing what to say that I missed opportunities to listen. I missed opportunities to get to know amazing people—” He paused and looked over at Remi. “But I’m working on that, thanks to this girl,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her there.

He smiled over at her, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “One yes at a time,” she said.

“One yes at a time,” he agreed.

Carter took a piece of the complementary bread, dipping it into the accompanying oil mixture. “How did you get him to open up to you? I have to know. I’ve been trying to lure him into my web of bullshit for years,” he said with a mouth full of bread.

Remi smiled, this time a double-dimple smile, and Max couldn’t believe, in this moment, that she was his.

“Hummus,” she said simply.

“Hummus?” Brown asked with a chuckle.

“Yup.” She beamed. “That was the first time I got a yes out of him. I asked him to have a picnic with me on the beach. And then there were the donuts, cat ears, and even a punk show,” she said, then paused and added, “Oh, and one hard rule: No more passes.”

Max shook his head and lowered it, a small grin on his face.

“No more passes?” Carter asked.

“Yeah,” Max said, “it turns out if you tell me I’m not allowed to pull away and chicken out, I actually stick around and do scary things.”

“Do scary things,” Carter repeated quietly, and Max knew he was thinking back on the moment in the hotel room when Max had lost his shit over those simple words.

“Yeah, she helps me do scary things,” Max said.

Brown looked between the two of them, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, doing scary things is cool and all, but are we really going to act like she didn’t mention Max in cat ears?”

They all began to laugh, and Max began to talk with his teammates more freely than he had in all the years leading up to his last. He wondered if it was too late to create the memories that should have lined the halls of his home in picture frames long before now.

Time didn’t stop for anyone, but Max was certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his saying yes.