1. Tyler

This was potentially a life altering moment. The envelope in my hand trembled in my death grip. I couldn't help but chuckle at myself. I mean, labeling this as the most significant change in my life would be a bit of a stretch. That happened two years ago, and that was the day I realized that the world spinning on its axis was a lot like a ceiling fan full of dirty socks on April Fool's.

I used to find humor in pranks. So, I orchestrated a spectacle by hanging my smelly hockey socks on the ceiling fan for April Fool's. The resulting chaos mirrored the unpredictability of life. As I now stood on the brink of yet another crucial moment in life, I craved that thrill.

Weighing the thick envelope in my hand, I reminded myself not to over-analyze it. I glanced up to where Mum bounced on her toes in front of me, an eager smile playing on her lips. I'd always been told I had her eyes. I watched, heart pounding in my ears as her eager sea-foam eyes flicked from me to the letter as I slid it from the white envelope.

"Mum, stop. You're making me nervous," I grumbled, secretly relishing her enthusiasm. She'd been my number one fan since day one. Every time I stumbled; she was right there to catch me. Now, she stood there nearly buzzing with excitement, knowing that the contents of that letter could upend our entire lives.

"Come on, Ty! You know I hate surprises."

"Yeah, yeah."

With a sigh, I looked down at the page in my hand.

Dear Mr. Riley,

Congratulations...

I didn't need to read any further.

I froze on the spot, my heartbeat thumping in my ears. Mum snatched the letter from me, clearly having lost patience with waiting on me to speak. Her squeal should've snapped me out of my stupor.

This application was a long shot—the biggest fucking long shot of my life. My mind raced between each thud of my heart.

Should I? Shouldn't I? Can I do this?

"Tyler?" Mum squeezed my arm, and I turned to face her. She looked up at me with those eyes that could read me like the books she wrote for a living.

"Tyler, this was your idea. Even after my diagnosis I told you this was your dream, not mine—certainly not your dad's. You wanted the big deal. No matter what you do, you know I'll always be proud of you, right?"

Man, I hit the jackpot with my mum.

She wasn't wrong. The NHL was my dream, always had been. I'd watched games on TV growing up, hearing Mum yell and swear, eyes lighting up as she watched the playoffs. I wanted to be on that TV; I wanted her cheering for me like that.

That's where it all started. If I said my mom didn't have an ulterior motive for taking me to the ice rink, I'd be lying. I knew she secretly hoped it would give me a spark of inspiration.

Hockey itself wasn't in my blood, but we were an athletic family. My dad was an ex-fighter, Mum an ex-jockey. Not exactly pro hockey player magic, but I did partially thank genetics for my skill on the ice.

Though my dad wasn't really into the hockey scene, he never skipped a game. He was always there to give me a pat on the back—win or lose. I did pretty well, at least by Aussie standards. I had national medals, snagged a spot on the under-eighteens team, and made my way to the world championships. We played against some of the best players in the world and brought home a bronze—a major win for Team Australia. Now, with my golden ticket in hand, I was one step closer to being on the NHL's radar.

"Tyler?"

I hadn't realized I'd forgotten to answer her. The low hum and trickle from the fish tank were the only noises in the room.

"I know, Mum. I know you'll support me no matter what, but… this is huge. It doesn't just affect me anymore."

"You're not giving up your dreams because of little ol' me,"

My gut twisted.

Leaving her wasn't an easy choice to make.

"Oh, cut me some slack. I'm a grown woman; I can look after myself and Jamie." She laughed, but we both knew the grim reality of the situation.

Two years ago, life threw two big, dirty socks our way. The first hit was losing my Dad. He was a volunteer firefighter, who didn't make it home after fighting an out-of-control bushfire. He and Mum were high school sweethearts and a dynamic duo. She took his death hard—we all did. But the second sock hit when Mum got diagnosed with the big C.

"Mum, I can't do that—"

"You're young, Tyler. This has been your dream since you could pick up a stick. I don't want you living with the ‘what ifs.' Yes, life dealt us the ultimate trump card, but we can make this work. I am not dead yet."

Tears began to sting my eyes. "That isn't funny, Mum."

As I reminisced over the last two years, my mind wandered to my little brother. Not only was mum grieving the loss of my dad, but she also had a schedule packed with doctor's appointments. I had to step up. I was a chef and a housekeeper among making sure Jamie made it to school and his MMA training. Mum was usually too wiped out from the treatment to do much of anything.

The idea of leaving them both felt like lugging around a ton of bricks. I tried to shield Jamie from as much as I could. From tucking Mum into bed when she was too drained to get up, to sitting with her during chemo. Keeping Jamie blissfully unaware of the harsh realities of life fell squarely on my shoulders.

"Tyler, talk to me." Mum's voice pulled me from my thoughts once more. I turned and pulled her into my arms.

"It's irresponsible. What if Jamie needs me? What if you need help?"

I yelped when she sharply pinched the skin on my side.

"You deserved that, call it a reality pinch. You've grown up way quicker than I'd have liked but you've become a young man I'm proud to call my son. On top of stepping up around the house, you still get good grades and have performed at an Olympic level. You can't put this opportunity on hold—they won't wait for you. I have family around; if I need help, I will ask."

I sighed, letting my head fall to her shoulder. Though I stood at least six inches taller than her, she never refused to hold me when I needed it

"If I didn't have cancer, would you have been on a plane before you reached the end of the letter?"

My heart tugged at the thought. Wrapping up high school while juggling things at home had been tough. What would the team setup be like? Guys from other countries would talk about constant rotations, but Perth didn't offer that luxury.

With just two ice rinks—one up north and one down south—your team was basically pre-determined by your skill level. The guys I played with had been the same ones I started pee-wee hockey with. They were practically my brothers. When life hit rock bottom, they were there. They always had my back, whether it was fetching Mum from her appointments or if Jamie needed a hand. Leaving meant ditching my family—my entire family.

I sighed. "Yeah, I'd be gone already. But that doesn't change the fact that you have cancer. And cancer or no cancer, Jamie needs his big brother."

She squeezed me tighter. "Yes, I get that. Motherhood has always been my priority, but I also had my twenties to… live. I got to figure out what I wanted, to party and be a bit silly—much to your dad's dismay. And as your mother, I will not have you waste your life away to support mine."

I closed my eyes as if the darkness could smother my racing thoughts.

Silently, I hugged her tighter, hoping it could keep her healthy and safe.

Hoping it would give me the strength I needed to do this.