Page 69 of Gloves Off

Maybe I’m the problem.

On the way home, I realize that I don’t know the rookie’s story. I hardly know anything about the kid. Maybe his background is like mine, where his parents worked their asses off to pay for hockey. Regardless of where he comes from, playing in the NHL is his dream. It’s all our dreams. His parents want to see him succeed more than anything, just like mine.

Maybe figuring it out for himself is the better option.

Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Ward, and tell him it isn’t working.

The next morning, my trainer and I are leaving the gym in the arena when Ward finds me.

“Got a second?” he asks.

“Sure. I want to talk to you about something, too.”

I nod goodbye to my trainer and follow Ward up to his office. We make easy small talk on the way, but I’m distracted by my resolution from last night—to tell him it isn’t working out with the rookie.

“I have some good news,” Ward says as we enter his office and I take a seat.

My first thought is that he’s found someone else to mentor Walker.

“You’re getting a lifetime achievement award.”

My face falls. “What?”

Ward laughs. “I know. While you’re still playing? Incredible, Alexei. Very proud of you.”

Only a couple guys are given the award every season.

It feels like I just got boarded hard enough to knock the wind out of me. “I don’t want it.”

Ward seems taken aback. His eyebrows lift. “You don’t want it.”

“No.” I scowl. “I don’t want it.”

“Can I ask why?”

“They give that to retired guys.”

“Ah.” He nods. “Okay. I get it.” Ward glances out the window. “Volkov, I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to feel, but I didn’t go to mine, and sometimes I wish I had.”

After his career ended abruptly, Ward disappeared. I was still playing and we weren’t friends, but I heard rumors that he didn’t do well with retirement. Most guys who experience a career-ending injury don’t.

Another wave of worry moves through me.

“You don’t need to give me an answer yet,” he adds, eyes meeting mine. “Just think about it, okay?”

Saying no after his admission would be a slap in the face, so I give him a tight nod.

“Thank you. What did you want to talk to me about?”

This is probably where I should tell him I can’t mentor the rookie anymore, but I hold back. It doesn’t feel like the right moment.

“Nothing.” I stand. “Everything’s good.”

“Good.”

I’m almost at the door when he stops me.

“Hey, Alexei? If you decide to accept the award, and I hope you do, it would help having someone by your side. Someone you trust. For support.”

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