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“No, not at all. But it’s temporary and this is a huge accomplishment. Live it, Cillian. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s good advice, son,” my dad says, walking up behind Cillian. He has come with me to drop him at the airport, but he kept his distance while we said our final goodbyes. “Take it to heart. Enjoy every moment you get in the league; it doesn’t last forever.”
“Am I supposed to be this nervous?”
“Yes, Cillian.” Dad laughs. “I’d be seriously worried if you weren’t. You’re going to kill it, kid.”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Get a move on, or you’re going to miss your flight,” Dad tells him, patting his shoulder and stepping away.
“I love you, Isla Cole,” he says, dropping his forehead to mine.
“I love you, too, Cillian Wylder-future Hall of Famer.” He laughs, but I shut that down by sealing our mouths together with a kiss full of love, pride, and promise. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Be good,” he says, wetness shining in his eyes that I know matches mine.
“You know it.”
I don’t take my eyes off him until his large build and messy blond hair are out of sight. He turns back once, sending me a reassuring smile at the last second before disappearing. Then my dad’s arm lands on my shoulder, giving me a comforting side hug.
“You ready to go home, Isla?”
“Yeah, Daddy,” I say through the tears.
“The two of you will be okay,” he says when we’re back in the car.
“How do you know?” I ask, turning down the radio that plays as the ignition starts. I want to believe what he’s telling me, but I can’t help being frightened of our distance. Or of his new life that won’t include much of me. Insecure isn’t a word I think anyone would use to describe me… before now, anyway.
“This is how,” he says, unlocking his phone and pulling up an app. “This was your seventeenth birthday. It’s the day I decided to stop hating the kid for dating you.”
He’s pulled up a folder labeled Isla. The first picture is Cillian and me sitting at the table of the restaurant we went to with my family on that birthday. I’m blowing out candles on a ridiculously elaborate cake, but Cillian’s sight is focused on me. Full of the same love and pride I feel for him every day. As I flip through, there are so many more pictures just like the first one; me doing something and him watching me.
“He loves you the way men love a woman they’ve been with forever. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, you’re both young and life is throwing some major changes your way. But in the end, I think you’re going to be okay. Love like that doesn’t just go away.”
“We’ve never spent any lengthy time apart, it’s scary when I let myself think about it. I’ve been so excited for him, but now that it’s happening, I keep thinking he’s going to see that he doesn’t need me?”
“Love isn’t about needing each other. You want each other, which is much more powerful and profound. Hockey is a hard life; you know that because you’ve grown up in it. And you’ve seen how it can work.”
I’ve never seen my mom worried or stressed when Dad was away, be it for a short trip or an extended one. They have always had an unwavering faith in one another. He has never given any sign that he’s been anything but true to her, and he’s always so happy to get home after a trip to see ‘his ladies’.
The same can be said for Cillian. Never in our three years together have I had doubts that he’s been with anyone else when he’s away. I don’t doubt him now either, only the situation. The time.
If we’re as strong as I think we are, and we’re meant to be, then this is just a stepping stone. One of what will surely be many in our long lives together.
If we can survive the next couple of years, we can survive anything.
2
ISLA
Cillian left Seattle in an August heatwave in order to get settled in Boston before the training camp started. As I step off my flight at Logan airport the excitement of seeing him settles on me along with the chill of the October fall air. One I know will disappear as soon as I see him because of the heat we’ve always shared.
Me:
Deplaning now.
Cill:
