Of course, we were. Captain. Alternate captain. Faces of the franchise. Part of the job.
Tannen and I took our seats at the table while cameras adjusted and reporters shuffled papers.
The first few questions were predictable. Execution. Special teams. Missed opportunities. What needed to improve. The same questions every team in the league answered after a loss.
Then one of the reporters near the front raised his hand. "Thane, there's been a lot of discussion online over the last twenty-four hours connecting the losing streak to the attention surrounding your personal life. Do you think that's fair?"
I felt my jaw tighten.
People always wanted a simple explanation. Two losses. One headline. Problem solved. Unfortunately, hockey rarely worked that way.
"No," I said.
The reporter leaned forward slightly. "Why not?"
"Because there isn't one reason we lost."
The room quieted.
"We've had chances. We've made mistakes. Every game is different. That's hockey." I shrugged. "Trying to pin it all on one thing makes for a good headline, but it doesn't make it true."
Another reporter spoke up. "So you don't think the extra attention has affected the team?"
"No." My answer came just as quickly as it had the night before. "We're professionals. Everybody in that locker room has things happening away from the rink. Families. Relationships. Health issues. Things people never hear about." I paused. "Once the puck drops, the focus is on the game. That's what we're judged on, and that's how we judge ourselves."
The next few questions went to Tannen. He fielded them the way he always did, calm and professional, redirecting credit to teammates and taking responsibility where he thought it belonged.
A few minutes later, the media session ended. The second the door closed behind us, I stopped thinking about reporters. I had a flight to catch.
The airport was its usual mixture of organized chaos. By the time I found a quiet corner near the gate, it felt like the entire day had been spent rushing from one thing to the next. I pulled out my phone. The screen lit up with a flood of notifications. Messagesfrom teammates. Mentions. News alerts. The usual noise that followed a loss and a headline.
I ignored all of them. Only one mattered.
Kier: I'm still proud of you.
For a moment, I simply looked at the message. Then I hit call. The phone rang several times before rolling to voicemail. I listened to his greeting, shook my head, and ended the call. He was probably asleep.
I typed a message instead.
Me: Boarding soon. We'll be back in Seattle in the morning. Get some sleep. *heart emoji*
Some time later, boarding began. By the time we settled onto the charter, exhaustion was starting to catch up with me. Tannen dropped into the seat beside mine and stretched his legs.
For a while, neither of us said much. I glanced at my phone one more time.
Tannen followed my gaze. "You miss him."
There wasn't much point in denying it. "Yeah."
He nodded as though I'd confirmed something obvious. For a few seconds, I watched the runway lights beyond the window.
Then I said it. "I love him."
Tannen didn't even blink.
A laugh escaped me. "That's your reaction?"
"What do you want?" he asked. "A parade?"
