Page 127 of Ruled Out

“I’d say your fastest yet, kid.”

My head follows the sound of the voice until I land on Graham, sitting on the away team bench.

I don’t say anything, unsure if this entire thing is just a hallucination. I approach him and lean my forearms over the boards.

With his face hidden underneath an orange-and-black Destroyers cap, he holds the stopwatch in his left hand. The time reading thirteen seconds flat.

He still hasn’t looked up at me, continuing to stare down at the watch.

“There wouldn’t be a roof left on this arena if you’d just pulled that off in the All-Star game.”

I rest my elbows on top of the boards and pull down on my black beanie.

That’s when he looks at me. I’d say properly looks at me for the first time in years.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He wipes a hand over his mouth and nods across to the other side of the rink. I turn around and see Coach Burrows standing at the entrance to the ice, watching us, his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“I wanted to speak to you alone. Mia told me you’d be here, and Mike let me in. I’ve been sitting here for at least five minutes.” Reaching into his pocket, he takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the time displayed on the retro stopwatch. “Don’t ask me why I still carry this around with me when I could just use my phone.” He shrugs. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“You came here to talk to me?”

He nods once, rising from the bench. “Always liked this rink. It was one of the few away games I enjoyed. Being away frommy family was hard, but coming here was somehow—I dunno—comforting.”

I don’t say anything as I watch him take in his surroundings.

“You were right, Jessie. I did fail you.”

I drop my gaze toward the ice. That morning in the Destroyers boardroom crashes forward from where I buried it deep in my brain.

“You …” I begin but then stop. Unable to lie and tell him he didn’t.

“I should’ve asked myself more questions about your state of mind and living arrangements. I should’ve asked myself why you needed more support when your papa passed away. I should’ve concentrated more on what was behind the boy standing in front of me and not the player I desperately wanted to see.”

Noise filters in from behind us, and Graham’s eyes flick toward where my teammates’ voices come from.

“I can’t turn back the clock and protect you from what he did and what you went through. Neither can I offer you the family and safety you needed back then. It’s too late for that.”

He holds out the stopwatch, the time still written across the small screen. “If one of my players recorded a time like that, I’d tell them their future in this game was fucking bright, provided they could keep their head in it.”

Taking the watch from him, I don’t move my eyes from his.

“I think it’s going to take a while for my daughter to forgive me for the way I treated you.” He huffs out a laugh. “She’s turned into one hell of a woman.”

“I love her.”

“I know. I know,” he breathes out. “And I don’t know if you’ll ever find it in yourself to forgive me for what I said, what I did …”

The moment I open my mouth, he holds up a hand, asking me to let him finish.

So, I do.

“I want you to know that I see it now. My daughter’s future. I thought I did, and I thought I had it all laid out for her. I thought what I had planned for her was what she wanted, what she needed. I couldn’t have been any more off track. What she wants is you.”

The stopwatch in my hand blurs, and I quickly swipe the wetness away.

“Your dad is a piece of shit who deserves to do time for what he did to you and your mom. I can’t change my past failings, but I can tell you that if, one day, you can find it in yourself to forgive me, then I’d love to be back in your life for all the right reasons.”

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