Page 57 of Your Biggest Downfall (Ravens Hockey #3)
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Thirty seconds left. That’s all the time left before the entire first game could blow up in my face. I could practically see the headlines already:
Disappointing Home Opener for the Ravens, Thanks to Hart and
His New Sobriety.
Has Hart’s Sobriety Started Costing Them Games?
I watched the puck bounce across the ice, feeling the weight of it all closing in.
The buzzer blared, signaling the end of the game. Three points down. I stood there on the ice, staring at it as the crowd’s cheers for the opposing team became a dull roar in the background. The sting of disappointment washed over me.
The silence between the moments of noise was deafening.
My teammates skated off the ice in slow, defeated movements, their faces grim, shoulders slumped.
No one spoke. No one needed to. The air was thick with unspoken frustration and exhaustion.
We’d lost. Badly. And no one wanted to acknowledge it.
I followed them into the locker room, and inside, the silence was even more suffocating. Coach launched into a “You could have done better” speech, his voice flat but stern. I could hear him, but it was like I wasn’t there. His words seemed to float past me, muffled, barely registering.
All I could hear was the chaos inside my own head, louder than anything around me. The disappointment, the failure—it all pressed down, making it impossible to think about anything else.
I needed a drink. That familiar pull, the dark, gnawing urge, had crept back in.
It had been quiet for weeks, ever since our trip to Michigan.
Being with Nova had pushed it into the background—her presence, her laughter, her love had been enough to silence it.
The weight of tonight’s failed game suffocated me, and the allure of drinking was screaming louder than ever.
“Wanna come over?” Jeremy asked once we were all dressed, his voice cutting through the fog in my mind.
“Nah,” I muttered, the ache growing in my chest.
I didn’t want company. I wanted to drown my sorrows alone.
“Luna and Nova have plans tonight. You sure?” Jeremy pressed.
“I know where my wife is,” I snapped, though the truth was, I didn’t care.
I didn’t care where Nova was or what she was doing. All I wanted was to shut everything out, to push everyone and everything far away, and focus on one thing: getting wasted.
“Alright, dude,” Jeremy replied, raising his hands in surrender. “See you at practice Monday.”
“Yup,” I said, popping the p sharply before shoving my way out of the locker room.
I’d managed to dodge the press tonight, letting the captain handle the questions and the blame. I didn’t have it in me to face anyone, least of all myself.
Out in the players’ lot, I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to Nova.
Me: Have fun with Luna. I’ll be at home. Love you.
I didn’t even wait for her to respond before slipping into the driver’s seat. My mind was already on one thing—where could I get liquor and not be recognized? I needed to drink, to feel that familiar burn in my throat, to lose myself in it before Nova had a chance to see what I was about to do.