Fabian kneeled beside the bed and took Ryan’s hand in his. “Tell me?”
Ryan really didn’t want to talk about this. Ever. He’d gone through it with his therapist and that had been plenty. But Fabian looked so concerned, Ryan sighed and decided to give him at least the gist of what had happened.
“I was on the bench. And the crowd was chanting, because—oh. There’s a chant. When the crowd wants me to fight.”
“A chant?”
“Yeah. It’s, um, ‘Pay the Price.’ Like my name, and like I’m going to make them pay, right?”
Fabian’s brows pinched together. “Gross.”
Ryan nodded. “Yep. So the crowd was chanting because, well, a hockey thing happened. I won’t bore you.”
Fabian didn’t smile. “Ryan.”
They’d showered together before Fabian had gotten dressed, and Fabian’s damp hair fell in his eyes. Ryan reached out and brushed it aside. “I don’t know what it was about this time, because it wasn’t different from any other time, but I guess it was my breaking point. This was before I’d seen a therapist or tried medication. I was lonely, miserable. I don’t know. Anyway.”
“What happened?”
Ryan closed his eyes and remembered how he couldn’t get his heart to stop racing, and how he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. His gear had been too hot, too tight, and when he’d looked down at his skates and tried to take a breath, it was like his throat had closed. His chest hadhurt, lungs burning from lack of oxygen, and his damn heart had felt like it was going to explode.
“I thought I was having a heart attack. No joke. So I just...walked out.” He opened his eyes.
“Of the building?” Fabian looked very confused.
“Off the bench, in the middle of a game. And as soon as I was in the hall I just started tearing off my gear. Total panic. I didn’t even know what I was doing, I just knew I had to take my gear off or I was going to die. And people were yelling at me, and I didn’t even know where I was or what was happening.”
“Jesus.”
“I guess I ended up on the floor. Or on my knees or something. People were surrounding me and I was trying to push them away.”
“Panic attack, right?”
Ryan nodded. “Turns out, yeah. They got an ambulance to take me to the hospital because I kept saying I was having a heart attack. The hospital said it wasn’t my heart. Just a panic attack, they said.” He laughed humorlessly. “I was so embarrassed about it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Fabian said angrily. “It wasn’tjustanything. A panic attack is nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I get that now. I started seeing a therapist after that. I took a little break, to sort myself out a bit. I don’t think my teammates or my coaches ever looked at me the same way again, though.” He shrugged. “Then I got traded over the summer to Toronto.”
Fabian smiled. “Well, that part worked out okay.”
Ryan returned his smile. “Yeah. I guess it did.”
Fabian kissed Ryan’s hand. “Do you still have panic attacks?”
“I haven’t had another one that bad, but...yeah. Sometimes. And I can feel them lurking, y’know?”
“I’m glad you told me. If I can do anything to help, let me know.”
Ryan rested a palm on Fabian’s cheek. “Youarehelping.”
Fabian kissed him quickly, then resumed getting dressed. When his back was turned to him, Ryan allowed himself to wince from the back pain that had been torturing him all day. He’d told Fabian that his back was healed because he didn’t want him to be upset about the fact that Ryan had been practicing and playing hockey all week.
The fact was, his back still felt pretty terrible. He’d been getting physio for it, and massages, so it was loosening up a bit, but the team doctor had also been supplying him with painkillers that made it easier to play. Fabian didn’t need to know any of this.
Just like Fabian hadn’t needed to know about that panic attack. Ryan wished no one had told him; it would only strengthen his belief that Ryan should quit hockey. He didn’t outright say it, but Ryan knew it was how he felt.
But Ryan was managing both the anxiety and the back pain just fine. He couldn’t expect Fabian to understand the demands of professional hockey.
