Shaking my head, I remarked, “Unreal. And the little ones?”
Without delay, he whipped out his phone, showing me the screen saver of his family. There were five children in total. He pointed to a little girl who was his spitting image. “Charlie is five now.” His finger shifted to an adorably chubby toddler boy. “And Max just turned two.”
“You’ve got a beautiful family, man.”
Jaxon’s eyes lifted from the screen to meet mine. “Yeah, they’re my reason for living. You ever think about settling down?”
I shoved both hands in my pants pockets. “You know how much we travel . . .”
He nodded in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard to meet someone who can withstand the rigors of our profession.”
That wasn’t exactly my issue, but I didn’t need to spill my guts to this guy. He had it all—the adoring wife, the family, the career that wouldn’t quit. He would never understand that losing my ability to play had left a giant hole in my life, and I wasn’t sure anything could fill that void.
So, instead, I brought the conversation back to him. “Braxton was showing me some clips of Charlie all geared up and skating like a little speed demon. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Don’t tell the others, but I think she’s his favorite.”
Jaxon chuckled. “It’s not exactly a state secret. Everyone knows the two of them have a special bond.” He paused. “Speaking of Braxton, is he doing okay out here?”
I nodded. “I can tell you with absolute certainty that he earned that A on his jersey.” An A designated a player as an alternate captain. “He really stepped up when I went down, even though he’d only been on the team a few months. He seems to be thriving here. Especially with Dakota by his side.”
“Yeah,” Jaxon said on an exhale. “I wanted so much to keep him close, to protect and guide him, but he needed the space to grow, to find himself. I’m glad he’s found that here. I just miss him, you know? We had just gotten a chance to reconnect when the trade happened.”
“He’s a good kid and a hard worker.” I joked, “Wonder where he gets it from.”
Jaxon held up both hands. “I’d love to take credit, but I was out of the house before he began playing full ice.”
“You didn’t have to be there to leave an impression, to become his inspiration,” I remarked.
Rocking back on his heels, Jaxon hummed. “I think he became the player he is today in spite of me. Growing up, our dad was pretty hard on him, expecting him to emulate my game. And when he couldn’t, it wasn’t pretty. I’ll leave it at that.”
Yikes. Even after my parents split up, they still came together to support me as I pursued my hockey dreams. My dad had been more supportive than critical. He’d always said it was up to me how far I went in the sport, that no one else could do it for me, that there were no shortcuts.
He was right. The kids who thought they could screw around at practice or have their parents bargain with a coach for more playing time didn’t make it past youth hockey. I earned everything in my career, and it was because I always had those words from my dad playing in my head. I owed him everything. To think that Braxton’s father was one of those glass-banging assholes you saw screaming at eight-year-olds on the ice had me seeing him in a new light. Braxton could have easily become jaded, hating the game he played to the point of quitting. Instead, he’d persevered through that kind of pressure to become the incredible player he was today.
Jaxon turned his head from side to side, checking to see that the hallway was clear before asking, “You’re going to the thing at the karaoke bar tonight, right?”
My eyebrows rose. “Pipes?”
“Yeah, I think that’s what they said it was called. It’ll be nice to get everyone together before we go to war on the ice tomorrow.”
I was mildly confused. “Is there some kind of event there tonight? Usually, the team goes after a game, but they have tonight off.”
“Oh shit,” he cursed. “I probably wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
Realization hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. Now that I was no longer a player, I wasn’t invited to “player” gatherings.
There had always been a separation between the coaching staff and the team. They didn’t come out with us; they had their own little group. It didn’t matter that in my mind, I was still one of them; they saw me differently. And it didn’t help that I’d stopped going to Pipes on my own. Maybe they thought I was the one drawing a line with my new role.
Jaxon shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I better get going. Nat’s had the kids all day without me, and I’m sure she’s ready for a break. Catch you later, Maddox.”
“Yeah,” I said weakly as he walked away.
It was like right after the injury all over again—I felt isolated.
I fucking hated it.
I was reeling, feeling out of control in my own life. A single moment in time had created a seismic shift, throwing everything off track and setting me on a new trajectory—one I hadn’t chosen for myself.
Dropping my head back against the concrete wall, I closed my eyes, trying to get a grip on the rising emotions—anger, disappointment, regret. This was a problem that couldn’t be fixed, and I struggled to wrap my mind around my new reality even months after learning that my body had failed me.
