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Hayes

Maggie stares expectantly at me from her place on the couch. My throat feels tight and I feel beads of sweat bubble up on my skin as dread sinks in. I hate talking about my dad. There's a reason I so seldom do.I rack my brain for something, anything I can say to stall this for as long as possible but then I look back to Maggie. Her eyes are soft and wide, open and understanding. She can tell this is hard for me and there's something about the look on her face that makes me want to tell her. And that's never happened to me before.

"Let me grab a glass of water." 

The water isn't a way of stalling. I think I actually need it or the words that need to come out of my mouth might dare to slice my throat like knives. When I've filled my glass I return to the living room. I take a seat on the edge of the couch, my back is ramrod straight and though I can't see my own reflection I'm sure the tension that's invaded every cell of my body is visible to the naked eye.

"I'm not quite sure where to start." I say simply after pondering for a moment.

"Can I?" She asks, drawing my attention to her face where she lowers her chin and I shift my gaze down to her outstretched hand. When I don't stop her she takes my hand in hers. Soft smooth skin meeting the word calluses of my palms that have come from years of practice and exercise that led to my career. "Hayes, I only want to know this story if you want to tell it to me. While I do think it might help you to share whatever it is you keep locked down I also understand there's a reason why you keep it so tightly hidden under lock and key. If you aren't ready for this...I promise I will get it."

"I don't know that I'll ever be ready to talk about what he did to me." It's the truth. "But at the same time, I feel like it's held me hostage in some ways and maybe I really should let someone in."

"And are you okay with that someone being me?" Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as our eyes lock. I take a shaky breath, hoping to instill some confidence and courage within myself. If I really want something with her I have to tell her. Trust, even with something of this magnitude, is the key to a solid foundation of a relationship. I might not have much experience in the department but I know at least that much.

"Maggie, I'm not sure that I'd be willing to share this with anyone but you."

Adoration shines in her eyes and I can't help but feel a little unworthy of that from her but I want to be. And becoming worthy of Maggie starts with becoming worthy of myself. To get there I have to put my dad behind me. Once and for all.

"I think I better start at the beginning."

She doesn't reply, just squeezes my hand reassuringly as I begin to tell her the deepest secret I have.

"I grew up in a hockey family. My mom and dad met while he was playing college hockey. He was good, but never great, and that ate him up inside. From the time he was little he dreamed of making it to the NHL. He trained and practiced and did all the right things but it just...wasn't enough. There were players out there with more grit, more determination and to be honest, just more talent."

I lift the cup of water I'd gotten earlier to my lips and take a sip before continuing.

"By the time I was born, my dad had played around in some semi-professional leagues but the reality that he would never make it to the big show was sinking in. He had me on skates practically before I could walk."

"I bet you were adorable." Maggie says, a wide smile on her face and glassy look in her eyes.

"I think I have a picture somewhere here of my first time on the ice, I got it from my mom when the team did some throwback thing. I was maybe a year and a half old and the pond behind our house had frozen over. I don't remember it but when I look at the picture it's like I can feel all the emotions I felt then. Just pure unadulterated happiness."

"I'd love to see that."

"But that feeling, it's why I stayed so focused on hockey. I kept chasing that perfect joy, in a way, I think I still am. It was that feeling that made me keep my head down, kept me focused on my goals. I don't say this to brag but I was leaps and bounds ahead of other kids my age when I started peewee. Many of my first teammates didn't even know how to skate yet. At first my dad was ecstatic, the doting proud father who got to tell all the other parents that his son had been asked to move up to an older age division group to be more on par with his skills. He wore it like a badge of honor. For a while anyways."

"And then what happened?" I stop, glancing over at Maggie to find her sitting on the edge of her seat waiting to hear the rest. For a moment, I'd forgotten where I was, what I was doing and only now does it really sink in that I'm sharing this with her.

"Maggie, this...my story, it isn't going to have a happy ending. You know that right?"

She stares at me before giving a short and small nod, just the barest tilt downward of her chin.

"You still want to hear the rest?" I ask, giving her the power to take the out. To jump ship and not have to hear the retelling of the destruction of my adolescence.

"I think you need to tell it, I think you need it off your chest, and I want to be here for you when you get the freedom I think it will bring."

"Alright, then." I say softly, leaning towards her and brushing my lips against hers. I need her. Need her confidence and belief in me to keep going. For there's still a lot to uncover about who I am, and who made me this way.

An: So what do we think is the full story behind Hayes relationship with his dad? Lemme hear your guesses!

ILY,

Sav

Hayes (A Carolina Cyclones Story)Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora