Page 70 of If You Love Me

“Sure did.” I was told by Dred that his go-to favorite food is neon noodles, which he buys by the case. But when the extra-creamy variety is on sale, he’ll splurge, so that’s what I brought. And a few other things.

He moves aside. “I was kidding. I would have let you in anyway, but I appreciate the comfort food.”

Empty bowls sit in the sink, and a pile of mail litters the counter. The couch is set up like a bed, with a pillow at one end and blankets hanging off the other. A laptop sits on the coffee table. There’s a loft space with a huge TV, but instead of stairs, there’s a retractable ladder. That’s one hell of a design oversight.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Like an idiot.” His cheeks flush. “You wanna sit? You want coffee? I can put on a pot.”

“I’m good. I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up and make sure you’re okay. I feel partly responsible because I put you on the ice together.” Although it needed to happen, and so did the airing of grievances.

“Our history isn’t your fault. Grace and I should have dealt with it at the beginning of the season, uh, if not before. It’s not like you didn’t try.” He unpacks the bag I brought and chuckles when he finds a two pack of white t-shirts and a box of tissues. “You got me the tissues with lotion, huh?”

I shrug. “I figured you could use a laugh.”

“Not sure how either of us will ever live this one down.” His face turns the customary shade of red I’ve grown accustomed to whenever Madden and Grace have been faced with their history.

“You may not, but at least it’s just your friends who know. Besides, I imagine your actions didn’t come out of nowhere.”

“What we did to each other…it was a storm brewing.” Flip looks to the ceiling. “He seemed like he had everything. Rich family who could afford all the best things, and he loved to rub that in my face. Always acted like he was hot shit who didn’t care about anyone but himself.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But we’re all covering for something, aren’t we? Hiding behind masks so people don’t see our weaknesses. He isn’t any different. I just think his mask comes with thorns, and they hurt him as much as other people.”

“Is that what you do? Hide behind a mask?”

He nods slowly. “The way we acted back then was juvenile, but we were kids.” He rubs his bottom lip. “And my actions after I made the pros weren’t much better. All the women…” He shakes his head and averts his gaze again. “I don’t have a problem with people doing what makes them feel good. It’s not my place to pass judgment. I wasn’t doing it just because I love sex though, and I pulled people into it who I shouldn’t have. I didn’t see it until I almost blew up my relationship with my sister and my best friend.”

I don’t know the details of his exploits, but I’ve seen enough of them on the gossip sites to have an idea. “You and Rix seem to have a good relationship now, and you and Tristan are tight.”

“We’re good now, yeah. But I made a lot of mistakes Rix had to pay for. I should have helped her more when she needed it, and I should have considered how my actions off the ice affected her, and my best friend. Anyway, that’s for my therapist to deal with, not you.” He smiles wryly. “I’m going to ice this ankle and elevate it so I can get back on the ice and do my job as soon as possible.”

“Want help?”

He starts to shake his head but stops. “You know what? Yeah. Please. There’s a soft gel pack in the freezer.”

“You want me to bring over any snacks while I’m at it?”

“You gonna get on me for eating crap while I feel like crap?” he asks.

“You get a pass for a couple of days,” I reply.

“An ice cream sandwich would be awesome. There’s a box beside the gel pack. And maybe a bag of buffalo-wing chips. They’re in the cupboard to the right of the fridge, first shelf.”

“On it.”

He stuffs a box of candy-coated black licorice into his pocket and crutches to the couch while I gather the requested items. I find it interesting that his cupboards and freezer are stocked with the same stuff I buy: mostly the generic brands. I feel like I’ve learned a lot about Flip in a few short minutes.

I set everything on the coffee table. “You need anything else?”

“Nope. I’m all good here. Going to eat my feelings and watch something other than hockey. Thanks for stopping by, Coach. I appreciate it. I know you’ve been trying this season, and I’m sorry it took this long to get to the bottom of things, but I think we were mostly embarrassed. Or at least I was. Still am, to behonest. Owning my stupidity and jealousy is something I’m clearly still working on, and I wish I could have done it earlier in the season. The team needed someone like you. You've got all the best parts of the other coaches and a side of empathy that gives you an edge. We all see it.” He gives me a chagrined smile. “And it wasn’t your fault I got hurt. It’s on me and Grace. I know you’re probably getting heat on the hockey sites. It’s just noise. You gotta block it out.”

“Thanks, Flip, I appreciate it.” More than he knows. It’s validating. Affirming when I need it the most, but it also shines a light on the things I’m not doing right. Like what happened at Christmas with Roman.

I leave him to his emotional eating and let myself out. I’m on my way to the elevators when I run into Dred.

“Hey! Were you visiting the broken hockey boy?” She pulls me in for a hug. “You know that’s not on you, right? He was acting like he suddenly played defense and isn’t a center.”

“Were you at the game?”

“No. I was at work. I was secretly watching it on my phone behind the desk.” She tilts her head. “You want to come in for a minute?” She does a full-body shimmy. “You look like you’ve got a lot going on.”

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