Page 89 of From Ice to Home
I should do a lot of things besides stand in the parking lot like a man who just watched his career flash before his eyes.
“Can’t get the game out of your head?” Niko’s leaning against the building, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. His eyes are tired, his hair wet and his expression blank. I half expected to find residual anger after what I said to him beforethe game, but now I’m grateful that guys are good at letting things go.
Moving toward him, I rub my hand across my beard. “Coach just lit me up in there.”
Niko nods like he expected it. “Whatever he said, I’m sure he’s not wrong.”
Sliding down the wall, I sit on the ground looking up at the clear night sky. My legs are still sore from a game I barely showed up for.
“I couldn’t think straight,” I admit. “Everything just…it was too much. It got to a point where I doubted whether or not I was thinking too much or too little.”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. He saw the state I was in before the game. There’s not doubt he remembers the way I threw his own personal failures in his face when he tried to help me.
“She’s not wearing the ring,” I finally say, the words tight in my throat. “I told myself I was fine with it. But it’s all I can see now, and it’s all everyone will see moving forward. Every game, every interview…they’re going to zoom in on her in the stands. It’s like this giant question I don’t have an answer to.”
Niko exhales slowly, then sits next to me. “You think she regrets it?”
“I don’t know.” I run my hands through my hair, flipping my hood off in the process. “I don’t think so. But maybe she’s scared. Which scares me. I can’t fix that by scoring a goal.”
There’s a long silence between us, the kind that only makes sense between teammates. Niko’s been a Ranger for two seasons now, and he fits in perfectly with everybody. Even when he’s the type to stay silent, to not share his personal life, he found his place among us easily.
He finally turns his head toward me. “You looked like a lost puppy out there tonight.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. “That’s almost a compliment compared to the other things that’ve been said.”
“I’m not insulting you,” he says, a smile in his voice. “I’m just saying that I’ve been there.”
We all know he used to be married and that things didn’t work out. But that’s all we know. The media was filled with the same headline. They were all worded differently, but it came down to the same thing.
Nikolai Petrov requested an immediate trade from the Washington Capitals following heartbreak.
“You had to play through the media digging into your personal life,” I say, wondering if that’s what I just signed Hannah up for. They’ve never really been that interested in my personal life before, especially when they had nothing to cover.
He doesn’t speak right away, then finally says, “Michaela played her part in what happened.” He lets out a heavy, loaded sigh. “But so did I. I don’t care what anyone says, a woman doesn’t know what she’s signing up for when she marries an NHL player. The travel. The pressure. The spotlight. None of this is normal.”
I shake my head, fully agreeing with every word he’s saying. It’s not normal, the way we live. The back-to-backs, the hotel rooms that all blur together, the time zone jumps. You’re on the road more than you’re home, and when you are home, you’re prepping, packing or recovering. There’s no quiet, no routine, no time to justlive.
“Is that why it didn’t work out?” I ask. “This life was just too much for her?”
My stomach churns at the thought. Hannah agreed to be my wife without knowing what this life entails. And now she’ll have to face the endless media, the opinions of others and the pressure of it all.
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Listen, people will tell you that you have to compartmentalize, but that’s not howthis works. This…all of this…the ice, your wife, it’s all your life. There’s no this and that. She’s part of your world now.”
“I get that,” I say, although I think I don’t really understand what that means yet.
“So don’t pretend that you’re not affected by it,” he says. “Because that’s why you couldn’t play tonight.”
He doesn’t say more and I don’t want to ask. If he wanted to go into more detail about his failed marriage, he would’ve. The weight of it lingers in the space between us.
“I keep thinking we rushed it. It was all too fast, too easy when we were in a bubble.”
That moment in Vegas is something we haven’t been able to recreate, not really. Maybe that’s the issue. We won’t get many moments where it’s just the two of us. Not until off-season at least.
Niko shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re making the same mistake I made. Maybe you just haven’t handed it over yet.”
I blink. “Handed what over?”
He turns to look at me, his eyes steady. “Her. The marriage. All of it. You’ve been carrying it like you can keep it from falling apart if you grip it tight enough. But maybe it’s time to let go.”
