Page 103 of Rebound

Looking away, I shrug. There are ways to express myself and Dominic won’t judge, but I don’t want to throw myself into the deep end yet. I want to figure this out without admitting all my fears.

“Is it that she might not love you? Or be terrified of who you are?”

“Yes. And she’ll worry our kid will have this affliction too.”

Dominic scribbling in his notebook is the only sound in the room. Then he says, “Why do you call it an affliction?”

“That’s what it is, right? I didn’t choose this and it makes me fucking unhappy and unpleasant all the time.”

“It’s a condition, Patrick. Your depression isn’t a disease. Sure, it’s not something we can get rid of, but we can regulate it. Haven’t we been doing that?”

I sigh, staring at my hands. I pick at the rough skin on my palms, remembering how Tamara talked about my calluses the other night. She loves that my hands aren’t soft and perfect. And it turns her on every time I touch her.

“Can the kid get it?”

“There’s no science behind it being genetic or hereditary. But let me ask you this,” he sets his entire focus on me, “do either of your parents have depression? A grandparent? A relative?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Their generation doesn’t talk about shit like this. I think my parents were surprised when I first brought up my diagnosis, they didn’t know what to do or how to help me.”

“And you’re worried if your kid gets it … what’ll happen?”

“I think it might worry Tamara.”

“Why?”

“It’s fucking debilitating, Dom,” I snap and he nods, but doesn’t say anything. I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face and then add, “I talked to her about it the other day and it was good. It was helpful to put the feelings into words, to make her see what it’s like for me.”

“Understandable. How did she respond to your conversation?”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “She said she’d support me no matter what, help me in whatever way she could. That’s just who she is.”

“And you don’t trust it?”

“I do. I know she’ll drop everything to help me, to make sure I’m okay and happy. But I don’t want her to sacrifice anything for me.”

“Patrick, I’m going to say something that might make you angry. So I want you to take a deep breath and hold it until I’m done.” We did this exercise a while ago, back when we discovered hockey might be the reason I’m not okay and it helped. By the time I caught my breath, I’d forgotten why I was annoyed. I roll my eyes and suck in a deep breath.

Dominic nods and says, “The basis of every good relationship is sacrifice and compromise. It’s love and compassion, but it’s dealing with the hard shit in the right way. It’s about being there for each other when things are good and bad. And the key to making it work long term is never hiding anything from each other.”

My lungs burn and at his nod, I exhale loudly. My chest hurts at the lack of air and what he said to me. But we both know he’s right. This is exactly what I’ve been afraid of for so long. That letting someone into my life means all of these things. Maybe part of why I’ve never been in long term relationships is the minute someone commits to me, they’re committing to my depression. They have to live with and love the dark parts of me too.

“Sacrifice and compromise. Okay,” I say softly and he watches me for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to hide these parts of yourself. I already hate that you wait until your body forces the crash, but you have to let her see one and let her decide how she feels.”

“I’ve gotten really good at suppressing. I don’t know how to let go.”

He chuckles and makes another note. “Trust me, I know how little you can let go.”

“You know what? Fuck you.”

He laughs louder and sets his notebook aside. “Next time, instead of calling me, let go. Trust in the way your brain and body will handle this.”

“Sacrifice,” I repeat and Dominic nods. “Okay, fine.”

“Speaking of which, did you make a decision about hockey?”

I nod, recalling my conversation with Tamara. It was clear by the end of the day the only way to still love the sport and have a semi-normal life was to walk away. “Retirement. I’ll finish out the next season with the national team, then step down.”