Frozen Barriers (43 page)

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Authors: Sara Shirley

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Frozen Barriers
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Tears sting my eyes because I know I make him happy, but I’m not his true happiness. “No, Jeremy. I’m not the only thing that makes you happy. Hockey makes you happy, which is why you need to go and do this without me. I’m so sorry.”

He gets up from the bed, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before he turns toward the door. “If that’s how you see it, I’ll leave and let you decide when you’re ready for me to be a part of your life again. Understand this, though.” He points his finger between him and me. “What we have is not over. You’re mine just as much as I’m yours, remember?” Before he exits the room, he turns back to me. “Do me a favor while I’m gone, Em. Please stay at
our
place until I get back. At least that will give me a reason to come home in a couple of months during the break.” I nod yes to make him happy, even though I have no idea what I plan on doing after this. As he’s walking out the door, I hear him softly whisper, “I love you.”

He’s gone, and I’m alone in my life all over again, but this time, I’ll be able to find my own direction in life to see where it takes me. I’ll have to fight for myself, and I’m scared to death.

Moments later, the door opens again, and I quickly turn my head. “Jer…”

“Hi, Emily, I’m Dr. Cranston. I see you have had quite a night. I’m sorry to hear about your injuries, but I’m here to help you understand the rehab process.”

Coming in behind Dr. Cranston is Grace, who appears to have also had a very long night. Her eyes are puffy, and she looks tired. Running her hand softly over my hair, she says, “Sweetie, I promise he’ll be brief, and I know you’re tired, but try to listen to him.”

My head is throbbing, and I want to go to sleep. I’ve had enough agony for one day, but I may as well take another blow while I’m already down.

“What about the Olympics and skating again?” I ask timidly.

“I’m sorry, Emily. I just don’t see that in the cards, at least not this year.”

There’s only one other person who can help me now besides me. “Dr. Cranston, considering my current frame of mind, would you mind bringing Grace up to speed on everything? I’m not feeling very well.”

 

I have to leave. If I don’t leave the hospital now, I never will. I would break my contract right now and stay with her; I love her that much. But, Emily is right. If I don’t do this, if I don’t at least see what it is like to play in the NHL, a part of me will always wonder. What if? What if I stay with Emily in the hospital and tell her I’m willing to fight for her tooth and nail just because I want forever with her? No matter how many times I replay that conversation over in my head, not one scenario has a happy ending.

When I get back to the apartment to pack my things and get everything in order, I see all the ways Emily has become a part of my life. Her clothes in the closet. Her vanilla body wash in the bathroom. Her infinity bracelet on my nightstand from when I took it off as she fell asleep in my arms after making love. That stupid fat-free creamer in my fridge. She has made me laugh more times than I can think of since the end of the summer.

When I finish zipping up the last of my suitcases, I find the little black box with her ring I bought before Christmas. I never found the right time, or I always chickened out. Now, I may never have the right time after our time apart. I grab a storage box labeled “youth hockey stuff” in my closet and place the ring inside it. I haven’t opened that storage box since I was thirteen, but the hockey stick I went back to the ice for that day, still sits in my closet.

Today is my first game with the Kings. Already I know that after practicing with these guys, I’m in another league altogether. They are bigger, tougher, and the stakes are set much higher. I miss my rink back home in Manchester. I’d grown so accustomed to my lifestyle there the past three years that this feels foreign to me.

While I sit on the bench with the players and watch their speed and hits, everything seems unreal to me. In a matter of seconds, I’ll be on the ice in front of a sold-out crowd. I will officially be an NHL player. Why are my only thoughts of the woman who isn’t here to watch me play my first game?

“Page, you’re up!” Coach blows the whistle and yells, distracting me from my thoughts of Emily.

Pulling one leg over the boards, I wait for the line change. When my guy is on the bench, I swing my other leg over, and this is my moment. Everyone speeds past me as I move quickly with the stick in front of me. The puck goes sliding in the opposite direction. Skating after it, I try to avoid having it anywhere near the Kings goal. Once I reach the puck next to the boards, I glance up quickly, but it’s not fast enough. A six-foot-three powerhouse is headed right for me. Before I have a chance to think about what to do or where to skate, his shoulder connects with my face, and the back of my head slams hard into the glass.

I shake my head to regain my vision, and once the puck becomes visible, the whistle blows again. Two players are fighting now at center ice. I’ve had my fair share of fights, but they weren’t to this extreme. This feels as though it’s all for show. People are cheering. Players are talking to each other. At what point did these guys stop playing for the love of the game, and instead, start playing for the paycheck?

Three hours later, my NHL debut is over, and I’m back at my hotel the Kings set me up in. We have a morning skate tomorrow morning and will board the jet to Denver to play the Avalanche in two days. There won’t be a bus trip with these guys as I’ve been used to in the past with the Monarchs. This is a completely different lifestyle. Most of the guys on the team are nice enough, but there won’t be any post-game drinks at the local pub. Too many players on the team are superstars in LA.

As I get ready to shave, I splash some warm water on my face before slathering shaving cream and getting rid of the three days of scruff. I wash and dry my face before changing into my sweats. As I sit on the bed, I scroll through my phone to see if I’ve missed any calls. I’ve probably checked at least fifty times today to see if Emily has called, and still nothing.

It’s already eleven here and way too late to call Mom and Dad, so I decide to send Courtney a text instead.

Just checking in. First game went okay. How’s Emily? Miss all you guys already. –J

I pull back the covers on the bed and crawl under. Taking out my tablet, I check the news from home. The top headline doesn’t surprise me at all, “Boston Olympic Favorite Involved in Accident: Withdraws from Games.” After clicking on the link, I read as the article describes in detail the severity of the accident and the press release about her withdrawal due to her injuries. Another headline catches my eye as I scroll down, “Charles Cameron of Cameron and Dean, LLC Selling Company, Files for Divorce.” Well, that didn’t take very long. I wonder if Emily has heard the good news? I toss the tablet off to the side of the bed, suddenly feeling exhausted from everything that’s happened this week.

I’m just about to turn off the lights when my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Removing it from the charger, I see it’s Courtney calling. What is she still doing up at this hour?

“Hey, Court. What are you still doing up?” I hear her yawning on her end of the line and the sound of a door shutting in the background.

“I’m keeping an eye on Emily. Mom and Dad have the days and evenings for now. I took the night until Josh has a day off.”

“What do you mean ‘keeping an eye on Emily’?” I ask, scratching my head.

“The hospital released her just as the news broke the story about the Olympics, and she didn’t take it well. Plus, she’s on pain meds for the injuries, and well, she’s still trying to cope with you leaving.”

If I could hit something, I would. “Court, what was I supposed to do? You know I didn’t have a choice, and it’s not as though she asked me to stay. I wish she wasn’t going through all of that, and I know it’s rough on you guys, too. If I could be there to help I would, but it’s not what Emily wants,” I say as I hear the sounds of the coffee machine brewing over the phone.

“She’s not the same, Jeremy. I mean, yeah, it’s Emily, but she’s closed herself off completely. She doesn’t speak. She won’t even sleep in your bed. She’s in the guest room. Sue came over today, and Emily just cried when she mentioned your name. None of us know what to do. You are the only one who can see through her when she needs help. Mom says to give her time, but she’s never been this bad. Tell me what to do, Jeremy. I’m afraid she might not come out of this.”

How can I tell Courtney how to get through to Emily? I didn’t exactly have much luck during my last conversation with her. It might be different if I was there to help firsthand, but I have no idea when I will be back home.

Pinching the bridge of my nose as I feel my head start pounding, I respond, “Court, I wish I could tell you how to help her, but Emily needs to figure out what she wants to do in her life. She needs to learn to fight on her own again. If she gets worse, call me. I’ve got to get going. I have an early practice, and then I’m off to Denver for the next game. Tell Mom, Dad, and Joshthat I miss them. I’ll send Dave and Sue a text tomorrow to see how things are going there. Take care of Emily as best you can. I still love her and miss her. It just has to be this way for a while. I’ll talk to you soon, Court.”

After hanging up, my thoughts drift to Emily. I have to control every urge I have to pick up my phone to text her. God, I miss her. As I roll over, the last thing I think of before falling asleep is my happiness is missing, and I can only hope it’s still there when I finally get home.

We arrive in Denver the following afternoon. When we make it to the arena for the game against the Avalanche, I realize this is the same rink in which Emily won her competition. I know I said I’d give her time, but after the three weeks we spent away from each other a few months ago, I can’t possibly not hear her voice or let her know I’m thinking of her. I pull my phone from my pocket.

I know you said to give you time. Tough. I’ll call u soon. Here’s a song for you.

“Peace” by O.A.R. Love U-J

Pushing the phone back into my pocket, I grab my gear and follow the rest of the team into the locker room. I’m just about finished throwing my pads over my shoulders when my phone alerts me of an incoming text.

“Arms” I’m so sorry for what I said at the hospital. I was angry and in shock. I miss you. Luv U 2-E

Pulling out my headphones, I listen to her song, hearing the meaning of every word.
Don’t worry, babe, I’m coming home to you. Just give me time.

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