Page 113 of For the Win

“Fuck, yeah!”Eddie yells near my ear.

Guys are jumping on each other, hugging, smacking each other.It’s nuts, but holy fucking shit it feels good.

The Canucks are sitting on their bench dejectedly, others leaning on the boards, heads down, shoulders slumped.Dave and Stan and Teddy are shaking hands and hugging behind our bench.Eventually we slow our celebration—you’d think we just won the cup!—and start back toward our bench.We have to do the handshake line, and I gotta say, it feels a lot better doing it when you’ve just won the series.But we’ve all been trained from the moment we put on skates that good sportsmanship is paramount, and we shake hands and hug and thank our opponents for a hard-fought series.

I see Théo come onto the ice.He was watching the game from the visiting manager’s box high above...with Dad.

And there’s Dad behind him.

I don’t think he should come on the ice in street shoes.He seems frailer these days.So I skate straight to him before he’s taken three steps.I open my arms.A smile breaks across his lined face and we hug.“You did it, son.”He slaps my back.“You goddamn did it.”

“I did.”I grin too.I might never stop grinning.

Okay, I do have other problems lurking at the back of my brain.But right now, I’m smiling.

“You worked your ass off out there.”Dad grips my shoulder.“That’s determination.”

I nod, choking up.I’m not the only one who’s emotional.Dad’s eyes are watery and so are most of the players’, to be honest.

I stay beside Dad as he joins in the handshake line, making sure he stays upright, though I’m trying to be discreet about it so as not to embarrass him.My chest is bursting with pride that I had a role in getting this team to the next round of the playoffs.I’m also feeling relief and satisfaction.

I fucking did it.

25

ARYA

I’m considering startingrage yoga classes.

We could drink beer and swear and yell.Let go of all our anger and frustrations.The idea is really appealing to me right now.We could be Zen as fuck.

But the reality is, I’m ready to do a Saturday SUP class at the marina.Everyone would probably be taken aback if I yelled at them to release all the fucking tension in their neck and shoulders.An alternate way to higher peace and motherfucking acceptance.Ha.

There’s an ache in my chest because I miss Harrison and I’m so, so sad that things are over between us, but after watching the game last night and what he did, I feel happy and proud and...satisfied.

I still don’t know if I did the right thing sending him that text.He didn’t respond, which I didn’t expect.But it didn’t negatively impact how he played, so that’s good.They won their game and they’re going on to the next round of the playoffs.It might even be against the Golden Eagles, if they too win their next game.

So I feel at peace with how things are.I’ll just try not to think about Harrison and how much fun we had together and what an honest and honorable, determined and talented man he is, and even though it didn’t work out with us, I had that time with him.I’m really using those affirmations, repeating them over and over.I can’t compare how I feel now to how I felt after Lucas assaulted me; it’s totally different, but damn, it hurts.It hurts a lot.

I am capable of anything.

I lead the class outside.The clear, blue sky and sparkling water help ease the heaviness inside me.Not completely, but a little.I turn my face up to the sun and let its warmth seep into me as we paddle away from shore.Despite the beauty all around me, an aching longing fills my chest, a wish that things could be different.

We find our places and drop our anchors, and I begin the class.“Stand-up paddleboard yoga is a great way to develop mindfulness, focus, balance, and breath skills.These are all important for being present during this practice.Let’s start in Mountain Pose, holding your paddle like so.”I demonstrate.“Feet together, big toes touching.Inhale and lift your paddle above your head, using it to keep your arms level.Exhale as you bend your knees, bringing your thighs as low and as parallel to the board as you can.”

As I bend my knees, I look straight ahead and see someone paddling toward us, apparently a latecomer to the class.Except the class is full and...my eyes widen as I take in the size and shape of the man on the board.

Harrison.

He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt, his biceps bulging as he digs his paddle into the water and rows in strong, even strokes, the board skimming across the ocean toward me.Sunglasses hide his eyes, but I recognize him.

He finds a spot not far from me, drops his anchor, and slides his sunglasses up onto his head, revealing dark circles beneath his eyes.

His eyes meet mine.

Sunshine bursts in my chest.My breath stalls and my heart crashes against my breastbone as we stare at each other.My lips tremble into a smile that he returns, his eyes warm and crinkling up at the corners.

Why is he here?

---