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I huff in response, letting some anger go before jumping back onto the ice.
The rest of the practice goes by without incident. The guys look good. We're confident and smooth on the ice, running plays like a well-oiled machine. In the locker room, Holly and Em are waiting for us.
We film another short segment for "The Blue and White Life" about playoff preparation. Holly briefs the team on making comments to the media and gives us all reminders of what not to say, do, or post online.
"Do not post trash talk," she orders, checking something off her list. "Do not make promises unless you're Mark Messier and plan on delivering on them."
Hockey players are notorious for making playoff promises. Some have gone down in history, immortalizing players as legends. Others have gone unfulfilled, marked as mistakes. The great Mark Messier's guarantee to win game six for New York was one of the most famous. His team won games six and seven, eventually winning the Stanley Cup.
"And please," Em adds. "No matter how stupid or repetitive the question, do not snap at reporters."
A few of the guys chuckle. Guaranteed, the media will ask dumb questions. They always do, and every once in a while, after a loss, when a player is asked, "What do you think the team did wrong tonight?" the snark comes out.
If we knew what we did wrong, we wouldn't have done it.
For the rest of the day, Luke and I review game tape, work out and then head home. I'm tired, and despite Em asking me to forget about this morning, I just can't. I want to make it right. When there is a knock on the door, I expect Em, but it's not. It's Holly, and I can't help my disappointment.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Em: I'm beat. I'm just going to bed.
Ryan: Me too. Holly just got here. I'll be down in a minute.
Em: I have a headache. I took some Tylenol and am lying down. I won't be much fun tonight. There's no point coming down here.
She's avoiding me. I know rejection when I see it. As much as I want to storm down there and force Em to talk to me, I know it would be a mistake. She needs her space, and I don't want to smother her.
Throwing my phone on the coffee table, I stare at the TV, not paying any attention to the show that's on.
Holly plops down next to me to wait for Luke to finish in the shower.
"What's up, Gunner?"
"Can I ask you something?" I turn to Holly, cutting through the small talk to get to the point. "Has Em said anything to you about me?"
"No. Is something wrong?"
I debate telling her what happened this morning but decide it's for the best. If anyone knows what's going on in Em's head, it's Holly. I give her the Cole's Notes version of what happened, leaving out that we had sex on Luke's kitchen island this morning, where he prepares his food.
Understanding flashes in Holly's eyes when I tell her about not wearing a condom, but she quickly covers it up.
"I don't know what happened." I shrug, feeling pathetic and hopeless. "I apologized for being so thoughtless. We're both clean, and I assume Em's on birth control because she said there was no risk of her getting pregnant, but something was definitely wrong."
"What did you say to her when you mentioned the chance of pregnancy?" she asks hesitantly.
"I told her I'd be happy. It would be unexpected, but it wouldn't be unwanted. I would love having kids with Em." And I would. The thought of a little boy or girl running around with her eyes and smile, and my dark hark, makes me deliriously happy.
"There's no rush," I continue. “So, I made a joke and said, 'better luck next time.' I wanted her to know I'd be okay with it." Holly winces. Whatever I did wrong, it's about Em getting accidentally pregnant.
“So, you definitely want children?" Holly asks.
"Of course," I say as if it's a foregone conclusion. "Em and I used to talk about what our family would be like all the time. My mom joked about it too."
At that thought, a memory flashes in my mind from the summer Em broke up with me. We were sitting at my mother's kitchen table for dinner, and Mom commented about having grandbabies. It wasn't out of the ordinary for my mom to joke around about stuff like that, but Em left the table upset. Mom apologized to Em and explained she was just kidding, but something changed after that night.
"That was a long time ago, Ryan," Holly starts. "People change. Maybe Avery doesn't want children anymore."
The thought seems impossible to me. Em always said she wanted kids. She'd wink at me when my mom said things like, "You know you're my favourite daughter, Avery. I'm counting on you to supply me with at least two babies to spoil before you turn thirty. You're the daughter Joseph and I never had." Em would laugh a full, beautiful, tingling sound before replying, "We'll see Martha. That's a lot of pressure. I need to start and finish university, and Ryan still needs to put a ring on it."
