Page 1 of Balance

Chapter 1

Morgan

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Ihaven’t showered in days. Having three kids between the ages from two to ten is ridiculously exhausting. I’m so done with today, I’m exhausted.

I really need a nanny. I know I fucking say it a million times a day - but it’s time. I can’t do it all on my own anymore.

My phone starts to ring again and I stare down at my body. I’m covered in food, flour, and milk. I groan, I think those are carrots. I sigh as I step away from the kitchen island, hopping over toys and piles of dirty clothes, before I find my phone buried between the couch cushions.

“Hello.” I grunt out and sit down for the first time in hours. My eyelids are already closing. I’m so tired. I don’t think I even slept last night.

The kids are screaming and throwing shit around. The TV is turned up so loud that I can’t even hear myself think.

“Are you coming to practice? They’re mandatory in two weeks, bro.” Nolan murmurs down the line.

I heave out a heavy sigh and run my fingers through my dirty, greasy hair.

I know my team is concerned. They’ve even been sending me food. Even Marie, with two twin newborns in tow, has brought me cases of water and a wagon filled with food for the kids and me, laden with gallons of milk, a ten pound bag of flour and rice. A ton of fresh produce, pounds of ground meats. Some chicken nuggets and even boxes of macaroni and cheese.

“Not today, man. I can’t get away,” I breathe out and cover my face with my left hand. I haven’t shaved in a week and I’m not liking the feel of the scruff against my clammy palm. I’m always clean shaven. Not anymore.

I’m out of options. Brittany fucked off to Paris or some shit with one of the men she’s been sleeping with behind my back. At least she signed the divorce papers, even with the full custody stipulations.

She told our lawyers to text her when she needs to come back, but I doubt she even will. She had a smile on her face as she cleaned out our closet and packed up all of the jewelry I’ve bought her over the last eleven years, but left her wedding rings on my pillow.

The kids haven’t even asked about her. She never spent time with them. She dropped them off at school or daycare when no one else was able to and would bring them home. Then she would drink wine and lock herself in her room.

I had no idea it was that bad until recently. I travel too much to be here all that much, to be enough for them. I feel terrible. My poor girls.

I finally snapped out of my selfish bullshit and put my girls first. I thought Brittany was taking care of them. I never bothered to ask, I just thought it was expected, she’s their fucking mother. It’s whatshewanted, she wanted children, and she wanted to stay home with them.

I haven’t even left the house since she left. Too terrified of the girls hating me, thinking that I’m abandoning them, too.

Nolan sighs, making me wince. I forgot he was even there. “All right, man. Let me know if I can do anything.” I nod, even knowing he can’t see me. I just wish there was something someone can do. Something anyone could do.

“I need to find a live-in nanny… Hire a new housekeeper…”

He grunts and I hear him shutting a door on his end of the line, “I’ll put some feelers out. I’ll ask around at practice today… I think Alexi and his wife have a nanny to help out a few days a week. Aren’t there those nanny services now? You just call, let them know what you need, and they send over their nannies for interviews or some shit?”

I frown as I try to make a mental note of that. I didn’t even think of looking up anything like that on the internet. At least it’s summer so the girls will be home more so that I can see how they do with them.

Plus less time for me to be at the rink. Just practice.

Avery does have summer camp that she goes to Monday through Friday, but I have Nessa and Tilly 24/7. It was nice enough for Brittany to leave us after the season ended. I don’t know what I would have done if she left while we were in the playoffs, I would have had to take a sabbatical. Probably would have had to leave the team at this point.

We already had our captain, James, fucking up all over the place because of him knocking up his best friend, then she went into labor halfway through the playoff games. I shouldn’t be doing this to the team right now, not when James is barely at the rink while he takes care of his family.

“Thanks, Nolan. Talk to you later.” I hang up and toss my phone on the coffee table, knocking over empty cups and juice boxes.

I stare around my living room and my stomach clenches. There are dirty clothes, toys, food wrappers, cups, and just fucking trash everywhere. Diapers, food containers, you name it. I am disgusted.

Something's got to give. I love these three girls more than anything, but holy shit, they are a lot of work. And messy, snotty… They even talk back. If I pulled any of that shit with my parents, my ass would be grounded for a year.

Maybe. They never bothered with parenting me, just threw money at me and forced me out of the house to practice hockey with a hoard of nannies.

I know they’re just acting out. I’m never home, their mother didn’t want to parent them, and now I’m here to right those wrongs. Be here for them. I’m turning thirty-nine this year, my eight-year contract is up at the end of this coming season. So, either they put me on a shorter deal due to my age, or I retire for good.

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