Page 127 of Moms of Mayhem
For so long, I’d thought making it back to the NHL was the only path forward. That if I couldn’t get back on the ice, I’d lose the best parts of me. But watching Jace become the player he was, watching Emmy rebuild a life from the ashes of everything she’d sacrificed… maybe it wasn’t about getting back.
Maybe it was about being present.
The Mayhem bench didn’t come with an arena spotlight but it came with Jace. With pride. With joy. With something that felt a hell of a lot like purpose.
Maybe the comeback I was meant to make wasn’t to the NHL.
Maybe it was to them.
Shortly after, Ty called.
“She’s holding it together,” he said, without preamble. “But barely.”
My stomach twisted. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” My best friend sighed. “Everything. Ryan says he’s coming, but she’s afraid he won’t show and Jace will play like shit again. I have more faith in him than that—Jace is playing like he’s got something to prove—but she’s feeling all of it.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, wishing I could do anything to help.
“Have you heard from the team yet?”
Staring down at the stack of papers on the bed next to me, I said, “Today, actually.”
“And?”
“One-year renewal. It’s a good deal. Gavin thinks I should take it.”
“What doyouthink?”
I thumped my head against the headboard, at a loss for how to explain that everything I’d fought so hard for wasn’t that appealing anymore.
“She’s not going to ask you for anything,” Ty said after I didn’t answer. “You know that, right?”
“I do know that.”
“But if she did?” Ty asked, voice low, serious.
“Maybe you have the right idea, walking away from it all.”
“Whether it’s today or next year or five years from now when your bones are nothing but dust as the oldest fucker in the league, home will be right where you left it.”
Ty hung up, not bothering with a goodbye, which was so veryTyof him.
As if summoned by the weight of it all, my phone buzzed again. Emmy.
I answered before the second ring, grinning at her beautiful face staring at me.
“Hey.” The words were soft and tired and somehow still the best sound in the world. She had on my hoodie, snuggled in her bed, and I’d give just about anything to be there next to her.
“Hey, Peach.”
“You talked to Jace?”
“Yeah. That kid is bouncing off the walls. Said it was the best game of his life.”
“He is,” she chuckled, her eyes alight with happiness. “And it was. He played out of his mind.”
“Damn, I’m so proud of him,” I said, meaning every word. “It’s killing me to miss it.”
