Page 134 of What Are the Chances
Fuck. That was almost a plotline for a movie. It was hard picturing Coach like that, but the truth was I didn’t really know Coach. All I knew about him was his hockey life, and that was only one side of him. It was only one side of me too.
“Are you mad?” Riley gently asked.
“Of course I’m fucking mad, Riley. I’ve spent the past three years blaming myself for how things ended, but the truth is you never let me in our entire relationship.”
She dropped her gaze. “You’re right. I should’ve told you the moment it started ruining things between us.” She swallowed thickly. “The truth was, well, the truth kind of still is that the thought of you playing hockey after college terrifies me.”
There it was. The first tear fell. Riley wiped it away with the sleeve of my hoodie.
“I’ve come second to hockey my entire life, Will. I can’t stand the idea of that happening again.”
I got it, I did, but it was also unfair. Riley had lumped me with her dad without giving me a chance to prove that she was the most important thing in my world. The lack of faith she had in me fucking hurt.
“In freshman year, when the media started poking around you because of the upcoming draft, it shifted things. At least for me. What had initially seemed like a future problem was suddenly getting closer and closer.”
Her eyes were red and her cheeks were puffy. She looked fucking exhausted. I felt like an ass for doing this now, but I couldn’t ignore it.
She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “I didn’t know whether you’d join the league straight away or stay at Phil-U.” She lowered her voice. “I know it wasn’t fair, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Mum was starting to get more and more unwell and I was spending so much time at the hospital.” Her shoulders sagged. “Then the draft party happened and I told myself that it was okay to stop fighting for us after that.”
I tensed. I hated thinking of that night. The look on Riley’s face was something I would never forget. How she’d walked in on that and yet somehow given me a second chance was incomprehensible to me. Because if I’d walked in on a guy going down on her, I’d be in jail, and he’d be dead.
“I know what happened that night is partly my fault.”
That caused me to speak up. “Riley–”
“It is, Will. God, you love hockey and I forced you into pretending it didn’t exist.”
We were finally having the conversation we should’ve had three years ago. Things sure as hell made a lot more sense now. Her unwillingness to talk about hockey. To come to my games. To get excited about it becoming my future. It made me hate Coach because he’d had a massive hand to play in our breakup, he just didn’t know it, and at the time, neither did I.
“For the record,” Riley softly added. “I love how much you love hockey. I love how dedicated you are. I love how talented you are. I love how happy you look on the ice.”
The tears were falling rapidly now, cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall. I was getting choked up too, because watching her cry was like watching a puppy burn and not making an effort to put the fire out.
“I was so excited when I heard you got drafted, and again when you won the national championship last year.” Her lips turned up just the slightest fraction. “Often when I’d catch up with dad, he’d bring you up without realising. He’d mention something you’d done at practice that week or a shot you’d made during a game.” She smiled sadly at me through her wet eyes. “Even though we weren’t together, I was so happy for you. I’ll always be happy for you, Will.”
A timer went off on her phone, startling us both. Judging by the time the team would be partway through the third period. I couldn’t even fathom the idea of being on the ice right now. Hockey felt worlds away.
Riley dragged the back of her hand beneath her eyes before sniffing. “That’s a reminder to take my painkillers.”
They were inside with Tanner. He’d taken them home from the hospital.
Riley reached for the door. “Can we finish this inside?”
Without realising, my head had begun to shake on its own accord. Riley’s gaze dropped to the floor as she nodded in understanding. I wanted to, but I was too worked up. I was still so mad at her. It wasn’t just about Coach and Tanner anymore. The issues ran deeper than that.
“I just – I need some time, Dover.”
She nodded again. “I get it.”
Grabbing the hem of my hoodie, she peeled it off.
I reached for her. “Don’t. I don’t need it.”
“It’s fine.”
Without the hoodie in place, all I could focus on was the bunch of bandages around her forearm. They were concealing fourteen stitches – fourteen stitches because she’d literally been bitten by a dog hours ago and here I was, making her feel worse.
Before I could stop her, she’d slipped from the car and closed the door.
