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ledger

Damien’s voice roused me from a fitful sleep, signaling it was time for school. Two nights ago, I found myself at Alex’s place, where a bottle of whiskey was opened and I lost track of time amid its amber depths. Yesterday blurred into a haze spent nursing hangovers in their apartment, only interrupted by Stassi’s insistence on dinner. Last night mirrored the one before, with more alcohol-fueled oblivion stretching into the early hours. As I awoke, the weight of alcohol and bitterness pressed heavily upon my throbbing head.

“Leave him alone, Damien. He’s nursing another hangover,” Stassi shouted from the kitchen. I groaned and got up slowly from the couch.

“Sorry I crashed here the last two nights. I promise I’ll go back to my own place.”

Stassi poured coffee into two mugs, then walked over toward me, handing me one.

“You know it’s no problem. I’m worried about you.” She looked up toward her room. “We both are.”

She was talking about Alex, who clearly couldn’t handle liquor as well as I could. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I muttered, though the truth was far from it.

“She’s upset. She’ll come around,” she assured me, but I couldn’t find solace in her words.

“You didn’t see her face,” I whispered, the memory of her expression burning in my mind. I could still feel the sting of her rejection, the icy barrier she’d erected between us. I could see the pain etched across her features, her heart breaking in real time.

I’d never forget the overwhelming urge to pull her close, to tell her I wasn’t going anywhere. But I made her a promise. I told her that if she ever needed space, I’d respect it. Even if it tore me apart inside, I had to honor that promise. She wanted distance, and as much as it pained me, I had to give it to her.

“I need to figure out how to make it right between her and Austin.” Stassi sat next to me as I finally was able to sit fully up on the couch. My voice got low as I turned to her and whispered, “Her mother was there. She called Auburn a whore.”

Stassi’s smile dropped, and she looked down at her coffee as if remembering something of her own. “No child should ever hear those words come from their parent, even if they’re an adult.”

I nodded in agreement. “I don’t know how to fix this, Stass.”

She offered a gentle pat on my thigh. “Sometimes, Ledger, things don’t need an immediate fix,” she said softly. “Sometimes it’s about creating room to communicate—to talk it out. Not everything has to be strategized like a hockey game.”

“It’s hard for me to see it like that. This is all I’ve ever known.”

“I know. Alex and I found our way back to each other with time, sometimes that’s all it takes.” She shrugged, then walked off to help Damien get ready for school.

With a heavy heart, I retrieved my phone from my pocket, the scent of my hangover clinging to my clothes like a bitter reminder of my own shortcomings. My fingers trembled as I unlocked the screen, hoping against hope for a sign of Auburn’s forgiveness. But the screen remained blank, devoid of any messages or missed calls. I’d poured my heart into each text, only to be met with silence. The weight of her absence settled heavily on my chest, a crushing reminder of the rift between us.

No missed calls, no texts, no voicemails. The silence was deafening, a stark reminder of my own solitude and our fuck-up.

I glanced at the clock, noting the time ticking away relentlessly. With each passing minute, the uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling a growing sense of dread. Would she ever respond? Did she want to hear from me anymore?

I’d also reached out to Austin in my drunken fit to tell him I didn’t realize I had to ask permission to date his mother. Alex expressed that it was probably the wrong time and the wrong tone to text him with, but I didn’t care. I checked for messages from Austin, but once again, my inbox remained empty. I expected to have a message from Coach or my agent firing me, but the silence echoed the void in my heart.

Closing my eyes briefly, I struggled to shake off the lingering haze of alcohol and regret. But no matter how hard I pushed the thoughts away, they lingered like a shadow, casting a pall over my already troubled mind. With a heavy sigh, I pocketed my phone, resigned to face the day ahead, knowing that no matter whether I was ready, I would have to face Austin in practice.

* * *

Austin was up front, controlling the puck and readying to take the shot. Dirks was our goalie as we scrimmaged with each other on the ice at the end of practice. Austin and I had stayed away from each other most of the afternoon, but when Coach suggested a quick game and put Austin and me on separate teams, there was no denying we would have to face each other.

I tried to shoot against their goalie, grabbing an assist from Alex, but the puck deflected and went wide. Austin skated over to get the puck, bringing it back down the line as I chased him. He attempted the shot, but the puck bounced to the corner. He went behind the puck and then out on the other side, shooting on Dirks, but he blocked it. Austin made another attempt, coming within inches of the post.

I got the puck back from Austin, and it bounced again into the right corner. Austin checked me, hooking my stick and stopping me from getting cleared.

“Get off me,” I shouted at him. His stick still held on to mine as Coach blew the whistle to get us to stop. This move would’ve cost him penalty box time. As Austin continued to hook me, pain pulsed through my knee. Between the lack of physical therapy and the last two days of drinking myself stupid, my injury was in bad shape.

“Fuck you,” Austin spat, then pushed me. Adrenaline coursed through my veins at the single contact, and my gloves were immediately off.

“You got your mom out of babysitting by sending Nova to hang out with you. You spent this time hiding out in a hotel room.”

“Don’t bring Nova in this.” Austin pushed me again.

“I’m just saying. You should feel happy about this. Your mom isn’t here to watch over you anymore.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Austin threw his on the ice as we dropped the sticks and our helmets. With a primal roar, I lunged forward, fists clenched, ready for the clash. Austin met me head-on, his own fists flying as we grappled in a frenzied dance of rage and adrenaline.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the arena as we traded blows, each strike fueled by Austin’s pent-up frustration. Blood seeped from split lips and bruised knuckles.

Regret hit me instantly. I’d tried to avoid him most of practice, but he was in my space, and I was overwhelmed with this primal need to win at the game. My feelings for Austin were getting confused, and I pulled away from him.

Coach roared behind us to get us to stop. Some of our teammates eventually came in, attempting to pry us apart, but we fought on, oblivious to everything but the burning intensity of our feud.

Nothing else mattered but the raw, visceral struggle between us. Eventually, Alex and a couple of other guys separated us. My lip was bleeding, and a big purple knot was already forming on Austin’s cheek, but Alex grabbed me and skated me toward the locker room.

“What the fuck, Cole?” Coach shouted from behind him. “Get in the lockers. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, waiting for whatever was coming for me. Coach ran in front of me, but the moment I stepped off the ice and onto the rubber mat, my knee gave out on me and I fell.

“Fuck, dude. Are you okay?” Alex reached down, grabbing my arm before I hit my head on the ice. Coach had spun around to see what happened. I was a big guy, and falling, even if it was on rubber, would make a noise.

“Now what?” he barked.

“My knee,” I grumbled, not wanting to sound like I was trying to get out of the talk, but I legitimately didn’t think I could walk.

“What the fuck happened during bye week?” Coach grumbled as he grabbed his phone and called for medical to come down and get me.

* * *

The dimly lit locker room enveloped us, the faint scent of sweat and leather hanging heavy in the air. Dark-red lockers lined the walls, their surfaces marked with years of wear and tear from countless seasons past, some bearing the puckered signs of players who had lost a game and took it out on the lockers. I sat on the bench, my injured knee stretched out before me as the medical staff hovered nearby.

I waved off their suggestion of heading to the team’s medical facility, insisting that I could tough it out. With a resigned nod, they administered a pain management shot, and the cool sting of the needle was followed by a rush of relief as the medication took effect. A wave of numbness washed over me, dulling the sharp edges of the pain and allowing me to focus on the fact that Coach was pacing in front of me.

As I leaned back against the locker, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion.

“You need to come back in for physical therapy,” Jessa, my usual therapist, told me as she examined the knee. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve reinjured anything, but I think the ligament got too tight and that’s what’s causing you to feel the shooting pain.” I narrowed my eyes.

“I never said I had shooting pain,” I clarified, not wanting to risk being pulled off the ice. It was still too early for that.

“Can he still skate?” Coach chimed in from the corner where he was standing with his arms crossed.

“Yes. He should be fine as long as he agrees to start PT again.”

I sighed. “I never missed an appointment until last week.” I didn’t feel like arguing with anyone. I just wanted to get the conversation with Coach over with, knowing it was coming.

“Great. Can we clear the room so Cole and I can talk?” Coach asked, and everyone nodded, grabbed their medical equipment, and left.

Coach was intimidating. He was in a pair of jeans, a Ravens shirt, and his longer hair was disheveled. He had large bags under his eyes. I empathized with him, because I knew, like myself, hockey was his life. There was nothing else. But this team and his ass were on the line as much as any of ours were.

“I’m fucking sorry?—”

Coach held up a hand, silencing me. “Hart. Get your ass in here.”

Austin came in without his skates on. He took off most of his hockey gear. He was in his sweater and some sweatpants, and his hair was a curly mess.

“Sit the fuck down,” Coach barked, and pointed at the bench across from me. “What was that?”

Austin looked at me for guidance on where to begin, but truthfully, I was as lost as he was.

“I—” Coach held up his hand again.

“No.” He shook his head. “You know what? I don’t give a fuck. You two sit here and figure this out. If either of you are still on about this at the game this weekend, then…” He pointed at Austin.

“You’re done. Not a single team will want you again because of the fucking drama that ensues. You think another team will fly your mother around with you? You’re lucky you are here, Hart.”

Austin hung his head low. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his temple. I felt bad for him. For his first professional season, he had gotten in trouble twice. He was focused on the game, no longer partying with the guys, and working on getting better. I didn’t want him in trouble.

“And you,” Coach shouted, moving his finger over toward me. “I’ll pull you for the rest of the season. This is your last season, and you’ll spend it sitting on the Goddamn bench.”

My movements mirrored Austin’s, filled with shame. It never should have come to this. Our personal issues should’ve never spilled over onto the ice.

But I would not apologize for being in love with Auburn. Not at that moment. Not ever. She deserved someone who loved her wholly.

“Deal with it,” Coach barked, then walked out of the locker room—more like stomped.

The locker room was silent, the air heavy with tension, almost worse than when Austin had walked in on me and his mom naked in her apartment.

I took a deep breath, figuring it was because of me we were here, so I should probably be the first one to talk. “I should’ve told you about your mom.”

Austin’s head snapped up at my words. “You’re damn right you should’ve,” he retorted, his tone laced with anger.

I sighed heavily. “I first saw her coming out of our apartment in August. She was on the ground, crying, and I couldn’t walk by. It wasn’t until family day that I realized who she was.”

“But you guys still continued…whatever this was,” Austin spat, his voice dripping with accusation.

“No, not exactly. Your mom made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me, more than a few times. I was the one who kept pursuing her,” I explained, my frustration mounting.

“She’s my…mom,” Austin shot back, his bright-blue eyes, the ones that matched his mom’s, piercing into mine. “If you think this is the first time something like this has happened, you’re wrong. I’m used to guys hitting on my mom because of how young she looks, but this is different.”

“I understand that. But she’s also a grown woman capable of making her own decisions, Austin,” I countered, my tone firm yet tinged with sadness. “When was the last time she dated someone?”

Austin huffed out a laugh. “My mom doesn’t date.”

“Exactly.” I threw my hands in the air. “That’s my point, Austin. Your mom moved out here to help you pursue your career. Your mom begged her boss to schedule her so that she could fly with you, so you didn’t get fired. She’s your mom, and she’s sacrificed so much…for you.”

“Isn’t that what mothers are supposed to do? Isn’t that their job?”

“Yes.” My voice softened, imagining my own mother and all the times she spent with me on hockey. “It is, but you’re an adult now, Austin. She’s got every right to fall in love with someone. Is it unfortunate that it was with someone you play with? Yes. Am I an asshole for not telling you? Yes.”

He tilted his head, a wry smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, you are.”

I chuckled along with him. “I love your mom, Austin. It’s not just about sleeping with her. I genuinely want to be with her every moment of the day. I want to see her smile.”

I paused, my voice trembling with the intensity of my emotions. “Her soul is pure, radiant, and leaves me in awe. Her laugh is like a symphony in my heart. And her kindness? It’s like a beacon cutting through the darkness.”

A sense of wonder suffused my being as I spoke of her, each word imbued with a reverence reserved for the most sacred of truths. “I’m humbled by her, inspired by her, and grateful that she loves me.”

A soft smile graced my lips as I reflected on Auburn. “I’m unworthy of her, yet she sees something in me that I cannot comprehend. Austin, she’s not just the love of my life but the very essence of my existence.”

Austin laughed softly. “You sound like you’re Hozier or something, man.”

The sign of jest made me smile, but Austin interrupted my thoughts. “You’re right. My mom is a very special person. She is kind and has always put me first in her life. I’m irritated that you’re my captain and you’re dating her, but she does deserve happiness.”

I got up, hobbling from my leg being wrapped, then sat on the side of his bench. “It was a shitty thing for me not to tell you. I don’t want this to affect us on the ice, but I don’t know if I can promise you I’ll be able to stay away from her. I want to see her happy too.”

Austin looked up at me, his blue eyes softened. “I know that it doesn’t seem like it, but growing up, I heard the way my grandmother spoke to my mom. I heard it the other day. I see the way Mom acts when she’s around. I know there’s more to the story of what happened to her and where my biological dad is, but I’ve never thought to ask.”

I offered him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t lie. I don’t know what it’s like to be a part of a family like that, Austin. But I will say that I’ve had a great relationship with my mother growing up, yet you don’t see her at my games or my practices. She never moved up here, and that thought simply never crossed her mind. Your mother quite literally gave up everything to give you a better life.”

Austin nodded again and brought his hands to the nape of his neck, pulling on them. “I think you should talk to her,” I said.

“I should.”

“Have we kissed and made up?” Alex’s voice echoed in the locker room from where he was standing in the doorway. He still had his skates on, so I presumed the guys were waiting outside to change.

“We’re good?” I asked and looked at Austin as he stood up. Wincing inwardly, I met his stance.

“All good.” He leaned in for a hug, and I met him where he was at. Before I pulled away, I looked at him. “I guess the only thing left to fight about is whose jersey my mom will wear on game day.” We all laughed, including Alex.

I turned silently toward Austin, giving him a nod of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Take care of her heart.” He was fighting back tears, and I was only able to nod.

“We’re good,” I called.

“Thank fuck,” Alex huffed, then turned around and motioned for the rest of the team to come in.

Dirks was first,and stared at both of us as he shook his head. “We were waiting forever out there. Jesus Christ.”

“Shut up.” I chuckled, glancing over at Austin, who had regained his smile.

Alex approached me as the other guys busied themselves with changing and storing their gear. “Did everything go okay?” he asked, his voice pitched low to avoid being overheard.

“Yeah, sort of. As well as it can with Austin, I guess. Now I just have to figure things out with Auburn,” I replied.

“I guess we can’t call him the child anymore, huh?” Alex quipped, earning a laugh from me as I nudged him on the shoulder.

I watched the guys bustling around the locker room, and my mind churned with thoughts of Auburn. I had to make things right. This was my chance to prove myself, to show Auburn how much she meant to me. I couldn’t let fear or doubt hold me back. I had to find a way to reach her, to touch the depths of her soul with the same fervor and passion she ignited within me.

And so, as I gathered my gear and prepared to leave the locker room, I made a silent vow to myself. I would find a way to win her back, to mend the shattered pieces of our connection. In the depths of my heart, she was worth fighting for, worth every ounce of effort and determination I could muster.