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Softly, she says, “Maybe words aren’t enough.”
“So what do I do?” I implore.
“Show him! Use more than your words. Make him see the light by taking action.”
Is she serious?
Frustrated, I ask, “And how exactly do I ‘take action,’ Lainey?”
Sounding wise beyond her twenty-two years, she says, “Only you know how to do that. But think about it. There must be a way, a way to make Brent rea
lize what’s really important, more important than hockey, more important than anything on this earth.”
“But what is more important?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
I just need to hear it.
I do too when Lainey replies, “You and Brent are what’s most important, Aubrey. The relationship you have, the love that you share. That’s what he needs to see.”
She’s right.
I need to find a way to show Brent all of that.
Before it’s too late.
2
Iced
Brent
I’ve been such an ass lately. I know Aubrey needs me, yet I haven’t been there for her.
Fuck!
Shaking my head, I try to get my damn mind straight so I can stop this shit right now.
Problem is, I can’t get the Wolves’ crappy playoff loss out of my head—all our missed opportunities, all the bad calls, all our careless mistakes.
It’s all driving me nuts.
That’s why I’m on the ice right now down at the training facility. I’m hoping to get in a good mind-clearing skate…for like the eighth time this week.
And it’s only Tuesday.
Still, I keep thinking if I skate often enough, it’ll make this obsessing go away. The ice used to make me feel better in situations like these. Skating would bring me back to reality, ground me, and make me realize what’s important in life.
It’s not working lately, though.
Not even today.
It seems no matter how many times I hit the ice, something’s still off.
“Fuck! I need a solution,” I gripe, kind of on the loud side.
Not that it matters.
I’m the only one at the rink.
