Page 42 of Red Lined (For Puck’s Sake #12)

JULIAN

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is my husband asleep in my arms. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I think there’s a soft smile on his lips as he sleeps. I touch his jaw with the tips of my fingers, following the line of dark hair until I can sink my fingers into his hairline.

His hair is a little on the long side right now, but it’s soft.

Arush sighs in his sleep. It’s quiet, puffing a warm breath against my skin.

Since the moment I stepped foot in this house, I realized how incredibly close I came to losing him.

We haven’t talked about the circumstances surrounding his leaving, and I know we need to.

His father said that everyone could see how hurt and depressed he was.

He fell a little deeper into both every day.

That was my fault. No amount of apologizing is going to fix it. I need to spend every single day making sure he knows I love him.

That doesn’t mean we don’t still need to talk about it. We do. We have a lot to talk about, but this is the most important.

Arush’s eyes open as if he’d just shut them, and not like he’s been asleep for eight hours. His smile is small, but it’s happy. Content.

“I love you,” I tell him.

His smile climbs. He told me it’s uncommon in his family to express one’s love for another in words. They believe it’s more important to show that person what you mean to them in actions.

I agree. It’s definitely important for your actions to reflect what that person means to you. But as I see it, I think it might be just as important that you say them out loud, so there’s zero doubt or misinterpretation of the intent behind someone’s actions.

Actions can be misleading. Arguably, so can words. Including and maybe especially a declaration of love. But perhaps both together can convey the truth behind both.

That’s my plan. Arush will know with no misgivings that I love him.

“I love you,” Arush says.

Since now seems like a good enough time to clear the air, I decide it’s time to make sure he understands I didn’t mean to hurt him. “I’m sorry I put you on that plane alone. I should have been with you. I should have understood that you needed me here. I failed on that, and I’m so sorry.”

Arush swallows. “Why did you stay?”

I sigh. “I think my best intentions and my lack of communication misled my decision. I didn’t think you needed me as a distraction when you should be focusing on your sister.

I didn’t think it was the best circumstances for your family to have to deal with meeting someone new, nor did I want them to feel obligated to host a guest in their house.

They feel like weak excuses now, maybe, especially saying them out loud, but I want you to know that I didn’t make any of them as a means of sending you home without me.

I can honestly tell you I’ve never done anything more difficult in my entire life than watch you walk away from me, unsure if I’d ever see you again. ”

Arush closes his eyes for a minute. “I thought you were returning me,” he whispers.

“Jesus, Arush,” I mutter and pull him closer. Not that he can get closer. He’s already flush against my body. “I told you the day we met that you’re not a possession to be returned.”

He gives me a weak, bemused smile.

“I’m really sorry you were left with that thought for an entire week. Why didn’t you say something?”

Now his entire body wilts. “I’m really awful at confrontations that leave me feeling vulnerable,” he admits.

“Right now, just saying that, I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Tears are stinging my eyes. It’s hard to keep taking breaths when I want to…

hide until the moment passes and the conversation can move onto something that doesn’t have me on the spot. ”

I’m not sure what to make of this. I don’t know how to make him feel better.

“Say something,” he croaks, and I realize not responding is making him feel worse.

“I love you,” I repeat and press my forehead to his. “I didn’t know what to say to help the situation. Not answering is obviously not a way to help it.”

He laughs. It’s a nervous laugh.

“I love you,” I say again. And then I keep saying it until he relaxes in my arms again.

I let a beat pass before speaking. “How about we come up with a code word that tells me you want to say something, but you’re feeling insecure or having trouble doing so?

And then maybe we’ll find a medium you feel more comfortable expressing it in.

Maybe a text to start it off. Or a letter?

We could get all pseudo-confessional and have a door between us. ”

Arush laughs.

“Do any of those sound like something that might help you?”

He sighs. “I don’t know, but I like the idea of trying them.”

“Okay, good. And if none of them work, we’ll think of other ideas.

We’ll figure it out. I need you to know that I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but I think we both want this marriage to be a happy one, and that means we need to find a better way to communicate, including—and especially—about the difficult things. ”

“I know. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying to think of ways to make it better and not getting upset with me because I can’t just say it.”

I frown. “Whoever made you feel like that in the past needs a hockey stick to the teeth.”

His eyes widen in alarm, and I laugh, despite the situation.

“That was a little violent, I suppose.” Arush gives me a dubious look. I kiss his lips softly. “I mean to say that no one has the right to make you feel that way under any circumstances. You should never be made to feel bad for feeling how you feel.”

There’s a chance he wants to be finished with this conversation. His mouth captures mine and we kiss for a very long time. I’m not upset about it at all.

I met Arush’s friends yesterday at our wedding, but there was a lot going on and I was surrounded by strangers, which meant I was channeling some hockey-Julian energy.

I needed the mojo and confidence that I pull on when I have to mingle and socialize at charity events and hockey functions, where I know very few people.

The difference being that this day was about me and my husband. They were there for us. A lot of them were family or close friends. It meant hockey-Julian was only the backbone, and in the forefront, I had to work on getting family-Julian to shine through as well.

These people are my new family. They’re important to Arush. They deserve an authentic version of me. Not a personality meant for public consumption.

Throughout the day, I wished my family were here. I promised my mama we’d celebrate when we got home but it felt… like the day was missing something. I knew exactly what was missing. My family. My friends. The day should have all the people important to us together.

We’ve spent this morning with Julian’s family. Ishika was able to come to our wedding for a brief time, but she’s been returned to the hospital while the doctors monitor the function and healing of her internal injuries. We spent an hour with her at the hospital after breakfast.

This afternoon, we’ve been hanging with his friends as they catch up on what Arush has been doing in Chicago.

I listen, wrapped around him, as he unloads everything.

Our trips, hockey, the newest gossip about the people who share our condo building, my friends, the plans we’ve made for the rest of the summer.

They seem like good people. While I know they try to involve me in their conversation and I think they’re waiting for their chance to truly ask me questions, I’m content listening to Arush talking with them about everything and anything, bouncing from one topic to another.

I love the sound of his voice. I love his smile and his laughter.

I love to see their friendship and wonder if that’s what it looks like when we’re with my friends.

My phone rings and I glance at the time, doing a quick calculation in my head. It’s nine in the morning back in the States. Business hours.

I kiss Arush’s cheek and excuse myself from their conversation while I answer my agent’s call.

“Hello?”

“Julian. Good morning,” Tanner greets.

I switched to Pride Sports three years ago when it made news that Felton Badcock was suing All-Star Sports for the way they took advantage of him, wrongful termination, and a whole slew of shit.

I was still new to the league, but I had a moment of panic when it happened because that’s the agency I was signed with.

During the first year I played with Chicago, a teammate, who is no longer with the team, was going through the same thing with them.

Apparently, a mass exodus had started, and he offered to give me the name of the attorney handling the case of athletes looking to terminate their contracts—looking them over for any of the same mistreatment that Felton experienced.

There were definitely some terms in mine that led to a lot of bad publicity for the agency. I was a token ‘ person of color ’ in their media section, and my involvement with their agency could be used as ‘ proof ’ that they represent a diverse clientele.

It was more involved than that, but I’d clearly misread and misunderstood the intent behind that section. It wasn’t a statement of inclusivity. It was a statement saying they could use my race in their advertising to promote their diversity campaign.

To say I was furious and sick to my stomach was an understatement. The proceedings I won went to an advocacy for Black equality and I washed my hands of the agency. I’m confident they’re disbanded now, but I have no interest in looking into the details of what became of them.

All that to say, I signed with a new agent at Pride Sports.

An up-and-coming professional who was spoken highly of in the industry, even with his lack of experience.

So far, I’ve been extremely pleased with Tanner Hughes—a Black agent, something that became very important to me after reading all the crap in my previous contract.

I’ve also had my new contract and every previous contract I’d signed was vetted by a lawyer.

“Morning,” I return.

“Are you around this week? I’d like to discuss next season with you.”

I know what that means. I’m not sure whether to be happy or sad about it. “I’m not, actually. I took an impromptu trip to India to marry my new husband.”

There’s a moment’s pause before Tanner says, “Congratulations. I feel like a lot has happened since last we spoke.”

Yeah, I got my head out of my ass. I look at Arush. He’s sitting with his friends as they laugh about something. He must feel me looking at him because his eyes meet mine and his smile changes to something that’s only for me.

“Yes,” I agree. “I’m sorry. I admit to being a little obtuse and then needed to act quickly to fix something I unintentionally messed up. We’ll be home next month. Can the meeting wait, or should we talk over the phone?”

“I’m happy that you were able to fix what was broken,” Tanner says, and I choose to believe he’s genuine. I don’t actually know him well. I haven’t made it a point to befriend my agent, as some do. “I look forward to meeting him when you return.”

“Absolutely.”

“If you’re not busy right now, we can talk for a minute.”

“Now is fine,” I assure him.

“I’m sure you’re not going to be entirely surprised by my next words, but you’ve been traded to Florida.

And I must tell you, Julian, you made quite the impression last season.

This contract is very nice. Florida has a lot of confidence in you.

They’re offering three-point-one million annually and a no-trade clause for two years. ”

“Wow. I’m not sure how to live with a no-trade. Staying in one place for two entire years! What must that feel like?”

Tanner laughs. “Indeed. I’m going to email this contract to you. Look it over. Have your lawyer look it over. I’ve flagged a couple of things that I want you to look at especially and talk to your lawyer about. They don’t necessarily make me uncomfortable, but they had me pausing.”

This is the reason I know I made the right decision to move to Pride Sports.

I feel like my agent is on my team. I’m not just a paycheck.

I’m not an opportunity for them to exploit.

I’m not a minority that ticks off a box for their DEI agenda.

I’m a person and they have my best interest in mind first and foremost.

Though I’m truly unsurprised by the trade, the news that I’m going to Florida makes me nervous.

It’s a dangerous place for Black people.

It’s one of the places in the south where we’re still living in the nineteen-forties and fifties when our lives have less value than that of white men.

Even our young children aren’t offered the same justice.

“Thank you. I’ll take a look in the morning.”

“Ah. I apologize for calling so late.”

“No worries. I hadn’t told anyone I was here yet.”

“Very well. Get in touch with any questions or concerns. And congratulations. Please give your new husband my best.”

I smile. “Thanks, Tanner. Talk soon.”

I end the call and pull up my email to take a look at the contract. It’s a pain in the ass reading them on a phone, so I only skim a few sections before forwarding it on to my contracts lawyer with a quick note.

“Everything okay?” Arush asks.

I look up to find him approaching. I offer him my hand, and he places his in mine so I can pull him to me. His mouth lands on mine and for a minute, I ignore that we’re not alone in the room while I enjoy the taste of his mouth.

“I have some shocking news,” I tell him. “We’re moving to Florida.”

I meant it teasingly, but Arush is surprised.

“I was traded to the Florida Manatees,” I say with a grin.

He relaxes. “Oh. That’s good news?”

“Well, because they were so impressed with my performance last season, I received a very nice raise and a two-year no trade, which means we’re in Florida for at least two years. I think that’s pretty good. On the downside, we’re leaving our home in Chicago.”

Arush clearly doesn’t like that idea. His shoulders sag. But his disappointment clears up, and he cups my face in his hands. “I’m happy for you. That’s a big deal. I’m so proud of you, Julian.”

I rest my forehead against his. “Thank you. You know what I’m most excited about?”

“Not having to move again in a year?” he guesses.

I snort. “Yes, but no. I’m excited that we get to find a house together. You and me.”

Arush sighs. “That’s what I’m most excited about too,” he whispers.