Page 60 of Almost Ours
For a second, my brain couldn’t process it. My body did, thought–my knees went weak, my stomach twisting tight. All of these people. Here for him. Here for us.
The last time I’d been surrounded by this many people, it had been out of obligation or judgment–not love. Not care. Years of standing alone, of swallowing hurt because no one was coming to help, cracked wide open in my chest. The noise in the waiting room blurred into a dull hum, my breath hitching as the truth slammed into me.
We weren’t alone anymore.
My throat burned, my vision blurring as a fresh wave of tears swelled.
Nina saw me first. She shot to her feet so fast her chair scraped against the floor. “Harper?”
I nodded, my voice catching. “He’s okay.”
For a second everything stilled. Then Nina spun around, shouting, “He’s okay!”
The room erupted.
Cheers rang out. Mothers hugged each other. Fathers clapped their hands to their mouths. Kids fist-bumped, wiping at their eyes like they hadn’t just been crying.
I stood there, completely overwhelmed, as Connor’s teammates rushed forward, their voices overlapping.
“Can we see him?”
“Is he awake?”
“Can he still play hockey?”
I let out a shaky laugh and nodded toward the hallway. “Yeah. You can go in, just for a little bit.”
The kids sprinted toward the door. I followed them inside, my heart clenching at the way Connor’s face lit up when he saw them.
“Dude,” one of the boys said. “You scared the crap out of us.”
Connor smirked. “I scared the crap out of me too.”
Laughter rippled through the room, lifting the weight that had been pressing down on my chest for hours.
The visit was quick–a blur of hugs, jokes, and reassurances that, yes, Connor would be back on the ice as soon as he could. Then, one by one, the parents trickled in, offering teary smiles and warm words before leaving us to have some space.
Then Benny and Mrs. Knox walked in.
Mrs. Knox went straight to Connor’s bedside, her gentle hand smoothing through his damp curls. “Sweet boy, you gave us all a fright.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Knox.”
She sighed, but her smile was warm. “Don’t do it again.”
Benny leaned against the bed rail, arms crossed. “So, should I start calling you Ice Man now? Maybe Aqua boy?”
Connor groaned. “Really?”
Benny grinned. “Okay, okay. I’m just glad you’re alright, kid.”
Connor’s smile faltered–just for a second. His voice softened. “Me too.”
Mrs. Knox gave his hand a final squeeze before they left, and suddenly it was just us–me, Connor, Nina, Liam, Shane, and Ryan.
Shane clapped Connor on the shoulder, his voice gentle yet firm. “I don’t care how tough you think you are, buddy. No more ponds unless an adult is there. Got it?”
Connor swallowed, his expression solemn, serious. “Got it.”
