“You’ve got this,” she tells me, her voice firm and unwavering amidst all the emotions. “You’ll be the best mama for that baby.”
And she’s right. Because no matter what I decide, I’ve got this.
8
MY REPUTATION PRECEDES ME, IT SEEMS
RASMUS
Three days ago, I was packing up my life in Minneapolis, unsure what to expect from my trade. Now, I’m carrying the last of my boxes into a third-floor loft apartment in Brooklyn.
When I walked through the unit yesterday, I was blown away by its character. Built in a former factory, the place has exposed brick walls in every room, high ceilings, and old-world charm. It’s the kind of real estate that makes me, a kid who grew up needing a sponsor to play hockey, feel like I’ve finally made it. I never could’ve imagined that I’d be standing here, owning a space anything close to this. It’s all a dream. The three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom loft cost me more than three times what I paid for something similar in Minnesota. But this is New York, and with that comes a higher price tag.
I thought moving to the City would be a hassle. But when my agent, Emerson Merryweather, called and told me that the Peacocks were interested in me, I didn’t even think twice. I told her, “Get it done.” Sure, there was the pressing question of playing in the same team as Åkerman, but that’ll be managed inone way or another. It's not a small feat, considering our history. But I don’t stress about it too much; the only thing I want to do is play hockey. The rest? I’ll deal with it as it comes.
Yeah, yeah, I might be oversimplifying the whole trading teams and moving cities thing, but that’s how it felt—quick and straightforward.
Everything fell into place so damn seamlessly. The universe seemed to be giving me a green light. For once, things weren’t a struggle, and I got what I wanted on the first try.
The hardest part about moving was saying goodbye to the team, especially my linemates. I’d played with some of them since I joined the League for the 2017-2018 season, almost six and a half years ago.
One thing I definitely won’t miss, though, is the constant risk of running into my ex, Petra, who used to work for the Lynx front office and lives near the arena. It was a mistake to date someone within the organization, but I learned my lesson after what happened with her. It all appeared to be a good idea at the time, but things got complicated fast.
Petra was always around, pushing for more, for us to take things to the next level. When she started dropping hints about moving in together after three months, I knew I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. It was also clear she was hoping to start living her dream WAG life, not seeing me beyond my star reputation.
Breaking up with her was anything but easy, and the aftermath was even worse. Ten months ago today, she slashed all the tires on my car. Needless to say, it was her last day working for the Lynx organization, and I was branded as that one player who treated her so horribly that she went overboard. The media loved the story, but I was done with it from the start.
That’s all behind me now, and I can breathe easier for the first time in months. The Peacocks’ management was surprisingly flexible and accommodating, much more so than expected. My contract came through almost unchanged from my previous deal, making the transition even easier.
Speaking of the Peacocks management, my phone rings, and GM Jeremy Lavigne’s name appears on the screen. He’s the only GM in the League who also happens to be a team owner, making him that much more powerful.
I swipe to answer. “Hey, Mr. Lavigne,” I say, setting the box down. “What’s up?”
“Mr. Lavigne was my father, call me Jeremy.” His voice is calm and easy. “I wanted to check in and see how your move is going. Need anything? Settling in okay?”
“Yeah, all’s good. I’m getting used to the new surroundings,” I answer, glancing around. “It’ll take some time, but I’m excited to be here.”
“Good, good. Glad to hear it,” he says with a warm chuckle. “Look, I won’t keep you long. Just a heads-up that we’ve got a team meeting tomorrow at the rink. It’s mostly about getting you familiar with how things work here.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, my voice lighter now. “Anything I should be prepared for?”
“Not much, to be honest. We’ll do some intros, you know, the usual stuff. And then you’ll do a little media. A few photos and such to get your face out there. You’ve been in the League long enough to know the drill.”
“Yeah, I can handle that.”
“But there’s one thing…” Jeremy hesitates his words. “You’re coming into a new locker room with some big personalities, and there’s bad blood between you and Åkerman. Any reason we should be concerned now that you were traded?”
I breathe out slowly, trying to gather my thoughts in a way that makes sense to him. “We’ll figure it out,” I say, keeping my tone light. “I’m here to play hockey, sir. I’m honestly not worried about the rest.”
“That’s exactly what I like to hear.” He sounds relieved. “Alright, man, I’ll let you get back to it. I'm looking forward to meeting you tomorrow. Welcome to New York.”
“Thanks. I’ll be there at noon.”
When the call ends, I grab the closest box and start unpacking. And the small smile doesn’t leave my lips the entire time I organize my new place. I’m finally feeling lighter about the future.
“Okay, now look this way,” the team photographer directs me. “We need to see that broody energy you were known for in Minneapolis.”
His comment makes me frown. “I’m sorry,what?”
