“Shh!Shh!We’re going to be quiet as little mousies, right?We can’t wake him up.”
He just needed them to be good for a few hours.
Tori put her little hands on her hips.“Why?”
“Because he’s hurt.He needs rest.Sleep.He’s…sick.”
He had a career ending lower body injury.
“We should wash hands,” Petey suggested.“So we don’t have germie-germs.”
“You could wash your hands, sure.First, we can go play in the backyard.It’s a pretty afternoon.”And they could be kids out there.
“In the sandbox, Daddy?With the new pails?”They were bouncing again, gearing up to be loud, so he ushered them out the back door, grabbing the plastic tub of sandbox toys on the way.
He grabbed his phone too, sitting in a chair in the shade.He texted his brother.
He made it
You ok
God no.
I guess.It’s weird.I don’t know what to tell the babies
their deadbeat dad is home?
they call him hockeyman.His leg looks AWFUL OMG
He’d had to go into the kitchen and cry.
really that bad, then?was hoping there was exaggeration happening to play on your sympathy
it’s terrifying.I—it’s awful.He can barely walk
damn.don’t make me feel sorry for him, I’m still mad as hell
yeah.I’m going to need a hug soon.This is hard.
He didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know how to make this make sense.
They’d been married for ten years.It felt like it had been…forever.Hell, they were technically still married; neither of them had started divorce proceedings.
I can be there in 15
Do you mind?I’m…I need my people.
omw
love you
He sighed and shook his head.He could have done anything else back when a gorgeous, six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-ten pound hockey player had come up to him, smiled, and asked if he had change for a ten.
Anything but blink up and nod.
Anything but end up in said asshole’s bed.
