Page 49 of From Ice to Home
My phone vibrates in my pocket again, cutting through the moment like a sharp blade. The persistent buzz is a reminder of everything pulling me away from her. I sigh, loosening my hold just enough to pull the phone from my pocket. Harry’s face glares up at me from the screen, his expression from the contact photo seeming more impatient than usual.
“You should probably answer that,” she says gently.
“It’s just Harry,” I try, unable to sound convincing enough that his call isn’t important. “But knowing him, I’ll pay for being late.”
The joyful expression on her features falters. “I don’t want you to get benched because of me, Luke. It’s the playoffs.”
Hearing her say it like that, makes my heart sing. It’s notjust that she knows it’s the playoffs and what it means, but that she already makes it sound like we’re a team in this.
“Don’t worry, it’ll probably be some kind of promo or ad I don’t want to do. They won’t bench me for being late,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my voice as I pull her close to me again. “I’m too good at what I do.”
She rolls her eyes and playfully pushes me away, her touch lingering just long enough to make my arms feel too empty without her in them. “You won’t be able to skate if your head’s over-inflated,” she teases. “You’ll lose your balance.”
“Oh, I’ve been doing fine so far,” I fire back, my laughter echoing softly in the quiet kitchen. “You’ll be alright here? On your own for a while?”
I try to keep my tone light, but there’s an ache beneath the question. Leaving her here, so soon after we just got here, feels like the wrong move. Even if I know I have to. Practice isn’t optional. Harry helped me out with Hannah, something I don’t take for granted, but I’ll have to get back on track. If I skip or show up late too many times they mightactuallybench me and that won’t be good for me, the team, or anyone expecting me to pull my weight.
But somehow those reasons don’t feel as important as they did a week ago.
Before we left Georgetown this morning, Pastor Mark took me aside. His expression was filled with concern, which is only understandable given how I showed up only to take his daughter from his home the next day.
“Lucas,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “You’ll look after her, won’t you? Do you have your Bible with you?”
I just nodded, knowing I had my Bible in New York. It’s next to my bed. Granted, I hadn’t opened it in a while since practice and games take every bit of my day.
“Good,” he said. “You should read it every night. Together.”
He didn’t say it as a suggestion, but rather something that should be a rule moving forward.
And now, standing here in the kitchen, watching uncertainty settle across Hannah’s beautiful features, I feel the weight of that responsibility settling over me.
She’s my wife now. Not just in name, not just in the eyes of the law, but in the eyes of God.
It’s no longer just about me. But about us.
“I’ll be fine,” she says, trying her hardest to sound convincing. “I’m going to explore a bit, maybe unpack and definitely take a bubble bath. It’ll help me decide on how to make this place a bit more homey,” she says, gesturing around the room with a faint smile on her face. “What time will you be back?”
“Bubble bath?” I blink, suddenly distracted. Images run through my mind that have no business being there this early in the morning. Images that belong to the future of our relationship. It’s not that I don’t want those things with her, but there’s so much we still need to talk about.
We’ve shared one night together as husband and wife, but everything since then feels like a big reset. As much as I want to be close to her, I can’t ignore the fact that we have so much to figure out before we can move in that direction.
She suddenly turns toward me, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. Something about the way her green eyes spark with emotion catches me off guard, and I feel a pull closer to her. But before I can speak, my phone vibrates in my hand, cutting through the moment again. It’s Harry, his face flashing on the screen.
She looks toward the phone, understanding spreading on her face. ”You have to go.”
I nod, reluctantly stepping back. “I hate leaving like this, Sanders, but I have to get to practice. Tomorrow we play the Leafs. If we win this tomorrow, we’re in the final. I can’t afford to lose focus now, and I’ve already missed the team meeting. Imean it’s the playoffs.” I know I’m rambling, but I’m trying very hard to convince myself to leave her here alone while I go cool off on the ice. “I’ll take you to the facility tomorrow, introduce you to everyone. I don’t want to overwhelm you too much. Besides, it’s been a rough forty-eight hours.”
She steps closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. The warmth of her embrace settles me. “It’s fine, Luke, really. You need to go and I’ll wait here for you.” She smiles teasingly. “Like I said, I have a few things I can do to keep me busy.”
I press a gentle kiss to her forehead. The balance of this new life we’re creating together, where our commitment to each other is now overlapping with our individual paths…it’ll be something to get used to.
“I’ll be back soon,” I promise. “And then you can tell me about all the ideas you came up with in your bubble bath.”
Jogging into the training facility,I head straight for the locker room, eager to get my gear on and hit the ice. My phone vibrates in my pocket for what feels like the hundredth time, Harry’s face now relentless on the screen. With a sigh, I send him to voicemail again.
“Walker!” His voice booms from further down the hall, cutting through the air and making me freeze in my tracks.
I glance up to see him striding toward me, phone still pressed to his ear as he glares at me. “You really just sent me to voicemail?”
