Page 12

Chapter 12

Emmy

E oghan had a hell of a game. He had three points and two blocked shots. It was probably one of his best games since joining the team, which made me curious to know how often he was playing under the influence in the previous games. Probably almost all of them.

At least he was getting clean.

Now the real question was, would he call me or would he try to go out with his friends?

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait too long since I heard his personalized ringtone, a hockey goal horn. I quickly accepted the call. "Good game."

He snorted. It sounded like he was shifting his position some. I was tempted to ask what he was up to, but I gave him privacy. It was already enough that he was calling me instead of hanging out with his teammates and potentially getting into trouble.

He sighed before asking, "So, what's your story?"

That seemed so incredibly broad. I wasn't sure what he wanted to know about me. While I wasn't closed off about how I got my introduction to some of the support groups, I would be the first to say my story wasn't very tragic. So I needed to narrow down what he hoped to learn about me.

"What do you mean?"

"How does an American come to Vancouver and then end up volunteering with a multitude of support groups? Shouldn't you be working or something?"

Oh that.

It was so refreshing to be asked that since almost nobody realized that I had a degree or that I didn't have a job right now.

"A bit of bad luck. I did the stupid thing of following a boyfriend to another country. He promised me the world. Hooking me up with a job and a place to live. So I moved here on a tourist visa with the promise that we would get married and then I could get a work visa. Ends up, it was all a lie. He was already married. There was no job. The only good thing was that I loved it here, so I decided to stay out my visa, hoping to find a job that would sponsor me, but I've been striking out thus far. A few of the agencies want to see more experience before they will sponsor a work visa, so this is my work around hoping to get a job."

I'd done enough self-work where I wasn't angry about it anymore. It was more a matter of fact.

It was a matter of pride that kept me from returning home. Instead, I continued to apply to jobs in the area and held onto hope that my luck had changed.

"How much time do you have left on your visa?"

That was an even rarer question, and it was so refreshing to feel like I'd been seen as more than a sponsor or group leader.

"A couple months. But I'm losing hope."

Eoghan let out a very quiet, "Fuck. I don't want to lose her."

The way he said that, there was so much more conviction than I’d ever heard Craig ever use with me. Which felt off since we barely knew each other.

I probably just heard things wrong.

Eoghan spoke up and said, "Would you be offended if I reach out to a few of my friends to see if we can maybe find a place that's willing to secure you a work visa?"

I wasn't sure if anything would come from it, but I sure as hell wasn't going to turn him down flat. I couldn't afford to say no but I wasn't going to get my hopes up.

On face value, he was just trying to be a good friend. Deep down, it was ethically wrong of me to be this friendly with anyone from AA. Nothing was going to come of it so I could accept his help.

"No, I won’t be offended. The help would be welcomed."