Page 55 of One Pucking Heart

She ignored every call, text, and email. She blocked me from seeing her location on all social media apps, and she didn’t use her credit card or name wherever she stayed. She covered all her bases and made sure I couldn’t find her.

Today, physically exhausted and emotionally spent, I don’t know how to feel about it all. Why did she work so hard to make sure I couldn’t locate her? Did she really value our time together so little that she honestly thought a couple of lines scribbled on a folded note card was an adequate goodbye?

I dropped everything and lied to everyone I love for her. I have gone above and beyond not only to make sure her secret was safe but to make sure she was happy. I deserve more than this. She’s silencing me when I’m owed a rebuttal. Marriage… and divorce is a two-way street. As much as she wants things ended her way, that’s not reality. I get a say, and while she may not agree and it might not change the outcome, I have a voice nonetheless.

Cade shuts his locker. “You okay, man?”

“Not even close.” I hit my locker, and it slams shut.

He slaps me on the back. “Let’s go work it off.”

“Yeah.”

As long as I can remember, there’s been nothing that hockey can’t fix. For me, it’s the ultimate endorphin-releasing activity. But I can’t say it’s going to help today.

Elena enters the locker room. She flicks her eyes to me for a second before she hurries into her office and closes the door.

I shake my head with a scoff. If she thinks a door will keep me away, she’s wrong. Luckily for her, I don’t have time for a conversation of this magnitude right now. I have work to do. She’s taken a lot from me, but she won’t take away my first love. As tired as I am and as shitty as I feel, I’ll give my all on the ice as I always do. The urge to crumple, scream, fall apart, and cry over my lost love is there. The need is so heavy it’s suffocating. Yet somewhere deep within my soul is the strength to fight those feelings off.

Hockey is the love of my life. From the moment I got my first stick and plastic net for Christmas at the age of five, there’s been no turning back. I won’t lose it, especially for something that, according to her, was never real in the first place.

* * *

If there were an award for compartmentalizing, I would be the freaking champion—gold metal material. Elena has made herself scarce this entire week, and I’ve been too busy to track her down. We had a four-game week, which are always brutal. One of the games included Pittsburgh, which, up until playoffs last season, I would’ve never considered our rival or competition—but that obviously changed.

Though I shouldn’t, I hold guilt where that loss to Pittsburgh is concerned. Had I avoided the dick and not let him hit me into the boards and fuck up my knee, Cade and Bash wouldn’t have lost it and ended up in the penalty box, and we wouldn’t have been down players during the final minutes of the game, allowing Pittsburgh to score and break our tie to win the round and effectively end our chances at the Cup.

I love Elena, and I still believe that I can make this right when I get the chance to talk to her. But this mess can’t come at a cost to the team. Piling on more guilt over losses isn’t something I’m willing to do.

Elena has kept busy during our home games and sent our PTs as her replacements for our road games. It’s not unusual, as our old doctor, Hootie, rarely came along on road games. It is, however, atypical for Elena. Up until this week, she’s been at every Cranes practice and game.

We’ve played extremely well this week, which has made focusing on my career and not on my love life easier. We lost our first game against Toronto, but won the next two against Boston and Pittsburgh. If we can pull out a win tonight against Chicago, it will have been a successful week. When we’re back in Michigan tomorrow, I’ll confront Elena in the penthouse suite of the hotel in Ann Arbor, where she’s been hiding out all week. This information was just given to me by the PI I had tail her.

Nothing says true love like hiring a private investigator to follow your wife so you can have a conversation with her.

I finish lacing up my skates.

“Ready to do this?” Bash asks.

“Oh, I’m ready, Cookie.”

He sighs. “You gotta add the monster, or it sounds dumb and makes me look like an idiot.”

I laugh. “I don’t know if that really helps.”

“Suck it up, Cookie. Let’s go,” TJ Maxx claps Bash on his pads and steps onto the ice.

“Monster. Cookie Monster,” Bash calls after him, following him onto the ice.

I look at Cade. He chuckles under his breath, amused. “Let’s go have some fun.” He holds his gloved hand out to me, and I bump his fist with mine.

“Absolutely.”

The arena is packed. It’s a road game in Chicago, but almost half the crowd sports Cranes colors, and that makes it all that more exciting. Chicago is a formidable opponent, but we’re relentless. Max and Jaden are on the top of their defense game, and Dreven is the beast of a goalie he always is. Cade, Bash, and I hit the puck to one another in effortless precision, scoring an impressive five goals by the time the final buzzer sounds, ending the game in a five-to-three win.

This season is ours. When I imagine the playoffs, our win plays so vividly in my mind it feels tangible. The Cup is ours. This is the right team at the right time. When we’re on the ice, it’s magic. All I have to do is get my wife back tomorrow, and this will undoubtedly be the best year of my life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

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