My heart squeezes. He’s trying so hard to hold it together, but I can see the seams. The way his jaw keeps tightening. The way his voice barely holds shape.
“I’m not playing this season.”
Ramona and Cooper blink, responding to him in unison. “What?”
“My shoulder’s not right. I’ve been pushing through for months, and it’s making everything worse. Parker threatened to call the surgeon and put me back under the knife again if I didn’t slow down.”
“Why didn’t you just take the time you needed? You have a contract for two years. That’s more than enough time to heal the right way,” Cooper says, his eyebrows pulled down in confusion.
“Pot, meet kettle.” Ramona giggles, placing her hand on Coop’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “You know a thing or two about pushing yourself too hard, old man.”
“I’m not old,” Cooper grumbles, causing all of us to laugh loudly.
“Fair point. It was the same way for me. I was afraid of what not playing would mean.” He pauses, looking down at his hands like he doesn’t recognize them. “And that fear—the way it grabs you by the throat, makes you think you’re only worth something if you’re on the ice—I know where that leads. I’ve been there before.”
Cooper leans forward slightly. “Cole…”
Cole meets his eyes. “I’m an addict.”
The words land like stones in a quiet lake. No splash. Just a ripple that seems to reach every corner of the room.
“I’ve been clean for a few months now,” Cole adds quickly. “That’s part of the reason I was able to push myself so hard. I was abusing painkillers and illegal Valium. I know it hasn’t been long, but I work every day to stay clean. Some days are harder than others. Any kind of stress or heightened anxiety is a trigger for me and increases my desire to use.”
He exhales hard, and the room seems to shrink.
“I’m not okay. And I want to be. So, I’m stepping back. I’m doing rehab right. I’m going to meetings. I started therapy. I’m not losing everything again. I can’t.”
I glance at Cooper. His face doesn’t move, but something in his eyes softens. Cracks. Then he nods, responding quietly and steadily, “Good.”
Ramona turns to him, incredulous. “That’s it? You’re okay with him being around Darius like this?”
Cooper doesn’t look away from his brother. “He just told us the hardest truth a person can say. He’s not hiding anymore. That’s the kind of man we both should want Darius to look up to, isn’t it?”
“But—”
“He’s family, Mona,” Darius implores, reaching across Cooper to grasp her hand. “Cole told me before anyone else. He’s worried I wouldn’t want to be around him anymore, but it just shows me he’s the type of man I want to be.”
Ramona’s shoulders sag just a bit, but she nods her head. I can’t imagine what is going through her mind right now, the need to protect Darius outweighing everything else, but I’m so happy she is willing to give it a try.
Cole’s eyes shine, his mouth parting like he doesn’t know what to do with that kind of grace. “Thanks, Captain D. But I’m not finished yet.”
No one says a word. They all sit there quietly, waiting for him to find the words to finish telling his story. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had issues with substance abuse. Remember when I had to take a pay cut with the Wolverines, and they started actively looking to get rid of me?”
Cooper nods.
“It’s because I was drinking more than I’d like to admit. I came to games loaded and even beat one of my teammates to a bloody pulp, costing the team a chance at the Championship.”
“How did we not know about this?”
“No one did, not even Remy.”
“Well, since we are making announcements, I’ll be coaching next year. It was part of my contract negotiations from last season,” Cooper adds.“ I know both of you want nothing to do with Coach Mercer right now, but if I’m gonna lead this team, I want my brothers on it. But not broken. I want you to be healthy, Cole. Whole. Even if it takes time.”
Cole lets out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know how I’m going to handle you being my boss.”
“Scared?”
“A little,” Cole admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “But mostly just shocked we’re not yelling.”