Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I look at Matthew, who looks like he’s going to explode. “We did not elope,” I confirm, looking at Vivienne, who comes to sit down beside me.
“Yet,” she puts in. “We don’t know what tomorrow holds.”
“Vivienne Allison Grant,” Matthew grits between clenched teeth. “Don’t even joke about it.”
I look over at Vivienne, who just shrugs. “Can we change the subject, please?” Matthew pleads.
“Gladly,” I say. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve met with a couple of GMs over the course of the week.” He nods at me. “And yesterday, I was approached by Nico.”
Matthew laughs and shakes his head. “The guy is a thorn in my fucking side.”
I can’t help but laugh. “He did say that it would piss you off,” I confirm.
“So you’re getting back into the game?” Max asks me, and I look over at him.
“I never wanted to leave the game,” I admit for the first time out loud. Matthew and Max just look at each other. “I have no idea what you read in the press or on Google.”
“We don’t go on Google,” Matthew states. “Nor do we believe anything that is in the press.” He looks at Max. “Remember when you told them to fuck off and refused to give them even a quote.”
“Assholes,” Max mumbles, leaning back on the couch, putting one arm on the armrest and the other across the back of the couch.
“Good. I’d like to be the one who tells you my side of the story,” I say, my hands starting to shake as the knots in my stomach get tight. She slips her hand into mine, and I look over at her and smile.
“You got this,” she assures me as she blinks away tears.
I give her a sad smile before I turn and look back at Matthew and Max. “Two years ago, I was at the lowest I’ve ever been.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “My game was a mess; the press was always there to catch whatever fuckup I did. It was just barreling down. Every single day I went into the rink and tried to get someone to talk to. I tried my coach. I tried the assistant coach. I went to my captain. I went to the GM, and I was given the same answer.” I close my eyes, thinking about how many times I tried to get help, how many times I reached out and just got kicked down again and again. “I was told to suck it up. I was told stop fucking up, and they will leave you alone.”
Max shakes his head. “I felt very much alone. I felt like no one had my back. One night I skated out for the warm-up. I lasted two minutes before I had a full-blown panic attack. I’d had them at night in the privacy of my house, but now it was out there, and before the media caught it on camera, I went back to the locker room and faked sick. That night I went home and tried to end it all.” I look down at my feet before looking up and facing them, hoping they don’t think less of me. “My agent found me, and then I walked away. Didn’t give a shit about anything.”
“Xavier,” Matthew says my name, and I brace myself for what is to come next. I have no idea what he is going to say. Fuck, he might not even be okay with me being with Vivienne. Her fingers tighten around my fingers, and when I look at her, she has tears running down her face. She hugs my arm and kisses my shoulder; only then do I turn back and look at Matthew. “They fucking failed you. There was no fucking way you should have gone through that. There are things in place to avoid that. There are people who you should have been talking to.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry that you went through that. Excuse my French, but that motherfucker.” He looks at Max. “If that would have been my team and this happened, everyone who didn’t report it would have been fired. Tossed out on their asses, without thinking twice.” He shakes his head, and I don’t know why, but I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s not looking at me, telling me it is all my fault.
“Every single fucking person,” Max agrees, sitting forward now, “from the coaching staff to the front office failed you.”
“I second that,” Cooper says, coming in. “I didn’t mean to overhear; I was just wondering what my father was up to.” He stares at me. “I’d love to have you here in Dallas.”
“Where does that leave Vivienne?” Matthew asks me.
“I’m not making a decision without her. Even if I don’t play again.” I smile at her. “I want to get help to the players who need it. I have no idea where to even begin, but there needs to be more help available for us who struggle.”