Page 73 of Like A Daydream
Which is why, when his phone goes off with the text alert and his eyes skim the notification, he drops it as if he’s been burned.
Danielle:I don’t think I can do this anymore.
He picks his phone back up, rereading the words. Slowly, as if he won’t be able to comprehend them if he doesn’t. Then he tries to call her.
It goes straight to voicemail.
Danielle: I’m busy, and can’t take your call.
Andrew:can we talk about this?
Andrew:after my game?
Danielle:it will never not be about hockey for you and that’s the problem.
Andrew:we talked about this
Andrew:I’m in the NHL I can’t just quit
Danielle:don’t call me. I need space.
Danielle:we’re done.
And now he has to go play a hockey game like nothing’s wrong. Like he didn’t just receive a break-up text in the middle of the day, instead of news aboutHarper. Tonight is either going to be incredible, or an absolute disaster.
That confidence he’s been feeling shatters.
He’s leaning towards this game being an absolute disaster.
Even though it’s a pre-season, non-division game, preseason sets the tone for the year and if he plays like garbage, that’s not going to be a good look.
Especially when he was off for two months.
He runs a hand through his hair, twists a bead on his bracelet, and heads out the door, leaving Roscoe asleep on the couch in the living room and his phone on the kitchen counter. He has to get his head in the game, and being at home for any longer isn’t going to help him do that.
He was right.
It’s not just an absolute disaster, it’s an absolute shit-show.
He’s not an enforcer, but tonight he could have been. He’d spent more minutes in the penalty box than he has in, pretty much, his whole career, and his lack of skills on the ice was disturbing.
He’d looked like he was in Pee Wees again, not a captain on an NHL team.
He takes a shower, goes through the media circus and gives some stupid answers about how they can play better, and then he drives home, ready to crawl into bed and for this day to be over.
They’d only been together for two months, it’s not like they’d made promises to be together forever. And with him so far away, it would make perfect sense for her to not want to commit to him and his lifestyle, especially when she hadn’t experienced anything like it before.
It was probably on him, too. He could have quit playing and stayed in Lake Placid with her, or he could have moved them both to Raleigh with him. People would have said it was moving fast, but what does it matter what other people think? He has his career and had a girl and her daughter pulling at his heart for two months. He could have done something to make it easier for them.
He gets into bed as soon as he gets home, and hugs his pillow to his chest tightly, trying to breathe. This was so far out of left field in comparison to how they had spoken not even two days before.
How can he fix it if she doesn’t want him to call? How can he get closure if she isn’t going to answer? What did he do wrong? What about Harper?
Andrew can feel his heart rate increasing as his eyes start to burn and his breathing gets heavier. His hands start to shake and he feels like he might throw up, even though he’s trying to ground himself. He dry heaves once, burying his nose in his pillow and closing his eyes.
“Pillow, blanket, lamp, book, window,” he says, out of habit.
He gets to “three things you can hear” and normally by this point his heart is slowing and his mind is clearing but today the sound of his blood pumping continues to rush into his ears. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, breath coming in spurts.
