Page 8 of Aftersome
“He went right up to the player who did it and pushed him flat onto his ass.”
As if replaying the video in her head, she continued to softly chuckle to herself. I couldn’t figure out what about it was so funny. Or why she was even telling me this story. But right before I could ask her what this had to do with me helping them, she opened her mouth.
“That’s when I knew.” She smiled. “A mother’s instinct is never wrong, even if he isn’t mine.”
Sucking in a breath, I almost couldn’t believe what had just fallen from her mouth. She didn’t flat-out say his name, but she didn’t have to. I already knew.
“Shelia…”
“I can recognize that temper from anywhere, you know?” Her sad eyes found mine as I tried to regain my breathing. “How it takes him a second to react. Like he’s arguing in his head about what to do, but we all know what he’s going to do.” It didn’t take long before her eyes turned glassy and a single tear streamed down her face.
I hated him.
Or at least, I tried to hate him.
In my eyes, only a coward would leave their family and the people they love without saying goodbye. Ten years with no contact. Ten years without a call, a letter, a text, anything. It was like he fell off the face of the earth.
We all knew he was a big shot NHL player now, not that I kept track of him or anything. It was hard to miss when his name was brought up constantly in the news and on social media where old classmates and friends would praise their former hockey god.
Greg and Shelia even tried reaching out multiple times. Whether it was a call or a handwritten letter, they never gave up hope. I could remember them watching some of his first professional games and seeing the excitement and joy on their faces. They were so proud of him at that moment.
Tears and all, I knew just how badly they wanted to be there, cheering him on and supporting him. But I understood why they never went. They didn’t want to disrupt his life, so instead they watched him from afar. They saw him as family, as a son. It killed me knowing that they were hurting because of him.
They held on to the hope that someday he’d reach out but as the years passed, that hope dwindled.
As if losing one son wasn’t enough, they simultaneously lost the other.
“I miss that boy more than you can comprehend.”
A painful tug on my heart caused my eyes to slam shut.
“I know you do.”
Though it wasn’t a topic we discussed, I knew just how much it pained them knowing that Mal was no longer in their lives.
“And I don’t blame him for leaving. He was hurting just like we all were and wanted that pain to go away.”
I had understood that. Hell, even I wanted to leave at times to get away from it all, but I couldn’t. Leaving here felt like I was leaving Hayes.
“We all wanted the pain to go away, but he chose to run away from it instead of dealing with it.”
I tore my eyes from hers, feeling guilty for admitting my true feelings, but I couldn’t help it.
“He did,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t make him any less of a son to me. We all make mistakes and we all deal with things differently. Even grief.”
Peering down into my lap, I took a deep breath.
“And you think he’s still grieving? Ten years later?” I questioned.
There was a short pause as if she needed time to think. Then on a sigh, she answered.
“I think he got caught up in his new life and never properly mourned the loss of Hayes. And at this point, reaching out seems beyond the bounds of possibility.”
It still wasn’t an excuse for him to cut them out of his life completely and it was something I don’t think I’d ever understand. He could give me a million reasons why he decided to leave, and none of them would be reasoning enough.
“Leaving is one thing. And I’m happy that he was able to make a career out of playing hockey, but for him to alienate himself the way he did, without so much as a goodbye and for so long…” I shook my head as my anger began to flare. “I don’t think it’s a matter of it feeling impossible to reach out but more so that he doesn’t want to.”
“Wren…” Shelia said somberly, and instantly I wished I could take back what I said.
