Page 98 of Fake Out Hearts

Thinking about what Kaplan did, and the fact that it led to this, makes my stomach boil with rage all over again. It’s a damn good thing we weren’t playing against the Prowlers tonight, because I would’ve beat his fucking face into the ice if we were.

I’ll never forget the panic and fear I felt when I got the call from the hospital. And I’m so glad I answered it, even though it was a blocked number. I never would’ve forgiven myself if I’d denied the call. I almost dropped the phone when the doctor told me why he was calling, and I must have looked like a crazed animal on my warpath out of the arena because the only thought on my mind was getting to my wife’s side. Ihadto make sure she was okay.

Being so far away from her in a time of crisis was fucking torture. And now that this has happened, I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to travel for a game. I can’t bear thethought of leaving her alone, of something like this—or worse—happening again. But I can’t skip all my games either, so she’ll just have to travel with me from now on.

I sigh because I know that’s not realistic either. She has her own life and ambitions, and I can’t expect her to give all that up. She’s already put her dreams on hold for years for Kaplan, so I wouldn’t be any better than him if I asked her to delay them for my sake. And I’m sure this crap with Curtain Call will blow over as soon as we prove that Kaplan’s full of shit, so Becca will probably be back to dancing and teaching pretty soon.

The worst part is that so much of this is my fault. If I hadn’t come up with this crazy fucking idea for her to marry me, if I’d just let her go back home to Canada, she wouldn’t be laid up in a hospital bed with a borderline concussion right now. Not that I regret it, but I can’t help wondering how things might be different.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this helpless. I want to take care of her, to protect her, but there’s so little I can actually do. Is this what it feels like to be a parent? To care about someone so much but know that you have to let them live and take risks and get hurt?

The thought brings a realization: Becca’s mom! I’ve never talked to her, and I don’t even know if she knows I exist, but I owe it to her to tell her what’s going on with her daughter. Becca’s phone rests charging on the bedside table, so I reach over to grab it and look for her mom’s number.

Of course, she has a passcode lock, and I don’t know what it is, but she also has the emergency contacts setting turned on with her mom listed, so I tap to place the call. It takes a few rings, but eventually, her Mom answers.

“Hi, Twinkle Toes,” she greets, and I can’t help smiling. I know Becca and her mom aren’t very close, but that must be her pet name for Becca.

“Uh, hi, Ms. Summers. This is Theo Camden,” I start, and the line goes quiet. “I know this is one hell of a way for you and me to meet, but there’s something I need to tell you. Becca’s in the hospital.”

“Oh my god! Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s fine. She got a little light-headed and fainted earlier today. She hit her head when she passed out, but the doctors don’t think there’s anything serious going on.”

“She didn’t eat, did she?” her mom asks, and I chuckle. Apparently, she knows her daughter better than either of us gave her credit for. Becca’s always accusing her of being flighty and self-absorbed—and I’m sure she’s not wrong about those things—but this is still her mom. And she still cares.

“How did you know?”

“She used to do the same thing when she was younger, especially if she was stressed out. I’ve told her I don’t know how many times how bad it is for her, but you know how teenage girls can be. They don’t want to hear a damn word their mothers have to say.”

“Well, speaking from personal experience, teenage boys aren’t much better.”

“I can imagine. Thank you for calling and letting me know. Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

“She’s sleeping right now and has been all day. I’ll have her call you as soon as she’s able to though.”

“Thank you, Theo,” she says, then sighs. “Listen, I know Becca and I aren’t the closest, but she’s told me a lot about you. About your marriage. I can tell you’re a good husband to her, much better than I ever was as a mother, and I’m glad she finally has someone in her corner.”

That catches me completely off guard, which isn’t easy for most people to do. “She does. And she always will with me, I promise you that.”

“That’s all I need to hear. It’s all any mother wants to hear for their daughter. Thank you again for calling, Theo. I’ll try her in the morning.”

“You’re welcome, but hey, Ms. Summers, before you go,” I hurry before she can hang up. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What were her favorite foods growing up? I want to make something nice for her.”

Her mom laughs again. “Well, it’s probably a good thing you asked, because she’sincrediblypicky. Or at least she was when she was little. She loved the usual kid stuff—chicken noodle soup, grilled cheese—but she also really loved these little dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. I don’t know if they even make those anymore.”

“Well, if they do, I’ll find them. Have a good night, and I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

“You too.”

I hang up and put Becca’s phone back on the nightstand, then use mine to start browsing all the local grocery stores for everything her mom mentioned, especially those dino nuggets. Because when Becca wakes up, I want to give her the best surprise she’ll never see coming.

Lucky for me, they do still make the nuggets, so I order a couple of boxes for delivery along with enough supplies to make a giant pot of chicken noodle soup, then pull my chair closer to her bed so I can take Becca’s hand in mine and rest my head on the bed beside her.

There isn’t a damn thing, not even sleep, that could take me from her side tonight.

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