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18
Thirty days later…
Trey
The only thingworse than spending thirty days in rehab—was spending thirty days in rehab with your father-in-law.
That was maybe more time than anyone needed to spend with their father-in-law.
Ever.
I’d learned a ton about him. And Lexi. It was definitely a deep dive into their entire family life.
I mean, I’d spilled, too.
That was the idea behind having group sessions, after all.
Wes’ only advice to me when we’d first settled in was, “You get out what you put in, Son. Just like anything else in life.”
Turns out, Wes Hunter was a pretty smart guy.
His insights—and wisdom—had been incredibly helpful.
Just like when he’d warned me about detoxing on my own. By the time I was admitted here—I needed a few different interventions to get my body healthy again. And they warned me to never detox without professional help.
Not that I planned to ever need detoxing again. Still, I’d been warned.
Minutes ago, we’d been set free into the world again. When we walked out the doors, I looked around—and a feeling of disappointment ran through me.
“What did you expect? A cheering section to greet you? Lemme tell you something, Son,” Wes slung his arm around my shoulders, “we’ve fucked over our cheering sections. They may very well never speak to us again.”
I nodded, knowing what he said might be the truth.
“But, that ain’t something we can control, right? One day at a time, Son. Whatever happens,” he sighed, tightening his hold on me, “happens.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t saying those words for only my benefit.
He would have loved at least one of the two women in our lives to have shown up, too.
I knew that.
“Well, Trey Turner,” he said as he removed his arm from my shoulders, and stuck out his hand, “I feel honored to have spent the last thirty somewhat days with you. I think you’re a hell of a guy and a hell of a player. Good luck tonight.” He slapped his hand against my arm and held it there. “And remember, you’ll get back to where you want to be. You’re a great fuckin’ player, you know that I know that—and the whole fuckin’ world knows that.”
Hearing those words come out of my hockey hero’s mouth—meant the world to me.
“Thanks, Wes,” I said, and tightened my grip on his hand. “I appreciate that. I’m going to give it my best shot—with hockey, and with your daughter.”
He chuckled, then let the laugh take over his whole body until he shook. “I wish you all the fuckin’ luck in the world. Because with my daughter—you’re going to need it.”
I smiled at him, even though I felt a serious sense of dread whenever I thought about winning Lexi’s heart back—or more like, not winning it back.
“But seriously, Trey,” he held my gaze, “no shit, I mean this. No matter what happens between you and Alexis—” his voice was low and serious, “you call me any time, day or night if you need something or even if you just need someone to talk to who—who understands this shit. No judgments. Okay? Can you promise me that?”
I nodded and felt my eyes get wet. “Same goes here, Wes. Feel free to reach out any time.”
We let each other go and started walking in separate directions.
Until I heard my name called.
