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Chuckling, I think I can guess who she’s referencing, as the little girl, Ella, has become the favorite part of my day too.
We step into a big room, and I spot the princess right away. With oversize headphones on, Ella is playing on a tablet in a hot-pink case. She’s hooked up to a bunch of tubes and machines.
She looks up for a brief second and notices me beside her, and she flings her headphones off and gives me her full attention as I sit down in the chair next to her.
“Charlotte!” she squeals.
“Princess Ella.” I address her by the royal title the nurse, Jackie, used and smile.
She scratches her head through her beanie and says, “Do you need to borrow Cocoa?”
My heart fucking clenches at her sweet and selfless offer. “I’m okay right now. Thank you though.”
She scratches her head again, harder this time, and I wonder if itching is a side effect.
“Are you okay?” I ask her as the most intense look of frustration flashes onto her face, then dissipates as she shrugs.
“Yeah,” she huffs, and her shoulders slump. “My mom got this one because it looks like my old hair. But it’s super itchy.”
“The hat?” I ask her.
“No, the hair,” she responds, tugging on the strands.
It’s a wig.
“Oh. Why do you wear it if it’s so scratchy?”
Her body sinks even more with her answer. “I don’t really like it, but I think it makes my mom less sad.”
Oh, my motherfucking heart is going to burst.
This little girl is so fucking brave, braver than I’ll ever be. She is battling cancer—of what kind, I don’t know; regardless, she is a child going through the same hardship as me, and look at her. She is a radiant and optimistic rock star. I aspire to be all that she is.
I respond truthfully, “That’s very considerate of you, Ella. But I bet above all, your mom just wants you to be happy. If you told her it’s itchy, I’m sure she would rather you not wear it.”
She shrugs. “I just want her to smile more than she frowns.”
“Princess Ella, you are incredible,” I whisper as the nurse accesses my new port and I officially start my first treatment.
“Thank you, Queen Charlotte,” she hums.
I can’t help but giggle at my newfound friend.
6
Reed
“She’s here,” JD whispers as he skates up behind me.
Fuck.
Every day for the last week, I have been dreading this moment, seeing her again. I expected it to come much sooner, but I haven’t seen her around the arena. Typically, she is shoving a camera in our faces, taking photos or making videos for the social media pages. But she’s been MIA, and I can’t help but feel angry at her audacity. She breaks my heart, but needs to take time off for her own? She wanted this. She’s the one who pulled the trigger, and I’m the one bleeding out on the ice.
“You good?” JD asks, slapping a puck into the net.
Nope.
“Just fine,” I mumble and bring my stick backward.
