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I run through my plans for the next day, and like always, my mind clears, only retaining what I need for hockey.
Closing my eyes, I try to drift off to the sound of the rain on my window, but before I’ve fallen into a deep sleep, a wave of irrational panic hits me, and I have no idea where it came from. My heart races as I listen out for the threat, but when I’m met with silence, I consider the possibility it’s not me in trouble, but someone else.
Grabbing my phone, I text Willow to make sure she’s okay, and it’s not until she responds that I actually relax.
Willow: All good here, just missing my man.
Her man. After our big talk about my past, that’s exactly what I needed to hear. She’s always exactly what I need.
The feeling subsides quickly after that so I can focus on what needs to be done. It’s time to kick some rival ass. Tomorrow’s another day.
After a grueling practice the next morning, we watch some tapes, get ready for our game, and then head home to rest. At least the other players do. I head off to my doctor's appointment.
“How many more of these do you think we have to do?” I ask, holding back a groan. While we all have regular checkups, having one the day before every game is getting old.
“That all depends on how today goes,” Doc says with a shrug. “But it was looking better when I last saw you so…any day now.”
“Thank God.”
Doc laughs before putting on a fake frown. “It’s a shame you haven’t enjoyed our time as much as I have,” he says and I bark out a laugh.
“Sorry, Doc. It’s been fun,” I lie, laughing again when he rolls his eyes.
Are doctors allowed to be funny?
“Unlike you, I’m not actually talking bullshit,” he says. “It’s been nice seeing a change in you. You used to give me nothing but attitude. I was just another person getting in the way of the only thing you cared about—hockey. But now I have a feeling you care about more than that. And it suits you.”
Fuck, I hate perceptive people.Okay, I don’t hate them, but it’s annoying.
“I’m not going to answer that, Doc. You never know when someone’s going to spill to the media.”
I shoot him a wink as he shakes his head.
“I’ve got to earn my millions somehow,” he jokes back and I chuckle. I really have changed. And I don’t hate it as much as I would have thought.
We get down to business and when Doc frowns, for real this time, I know it’s not going to be good.
“It’s not as high as it was,” he says with a grimace. “But not as low as last time. Let’s check it again tomorrow before the game. If it’s back down, then I don’t have to mention this visit.”
“Fuck. You’re a good man, Doc. But I really hope I don’t have to see you for much longer.”
Doc’s lips pull into a lopsided grin and he nods. “I get it. Let’s see how tomorrow goes. In the meantime, go home and watch TV or read a book, something light. Just relax and try not to think about whatever else you have going on.”
“Thanks, Doc.”I’ll try.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Willow
I’mrushingaroundtoget ready when my phone rings. Sara will kill me if I don’t open the shop on time, but I can’t seem to get my shit together today. She’s been keeping us afloat while I’ve been galivanting around, and I owe it to her to show some interest, even though my love for the store is slowly drifting away.
While I may never get my memories back, I’m still managing to find myself. And the more I discover, the more distant I feel from my life here. This wasn’t supposed to be my future. I wasn’t supposed to stay here and raise the next generation, like Ashley. I was supposed to break free and see the world, like Pippa. If I was going to have a family, I was going to raise them where I wanted, not where I was told I should be.
I answer the phone at the last second, my shoe half on as I bounce around on one foot, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear.
“Hello,” I rush out, a little louder than necessary.
“Willow, it’s Tate.”
