30. Sydney

CHAPTER 30

SYDNEY

I glance at the clock as Ethan finally strides out of my office, his lanky form disappearing down the hallway. 5:47 PM. Shoot, there goes my plan to hit the gym before heading home .

I'm only two days into this week and it's already been totally brutal, back-to-back sessions and meetings with barely a second for myself. It also started badly, with me having to tell Coach Daniels about Mikey's progress–or lack thereof–and the way he talked to me at our last session.

Coach was pretty disturbed by the whole thing. We've been in extra meetings all week putting together a performance and behavior plan.

With a sigh, I start shoving files into my bag. These long days are really doing a number on my energy levels.

A knock sounds at the door. I look up to see Jamie poking his head in, his boyish face creased with worry.

"Hey Syd, you got a minute?"

I plaster on an encouraging smile.

"Of course, come on in." I gesture to the chair across from my desk as I sit back down. "What's on your mind?"

He settles into the seat, hands clasped tightly. "I just can't shake the bad vibes of that last game, you know? I mean, we won, but even now…the energy on the ice feels so hostile. And the guys...everyone seems on edge."

I nod, leaning forward. "That's totally understandable. High-pressure situations can really amp up emotions and adrenaline."

"Yeah, I guess. I'm just not used to feeling so anxious about my performance, or everyone else's." He runs a hand through his dark curls, agitated.

"Well, let's talk through some de-stressing techniques. Have you tried any mindfulness or breathing exercises?" I suggest. His skeptical look makes me chuckle. "I know, I know, it can feel a little woo-woo at first. But studies show..."

We spend the next twenty minutes going over various relaxation methods - progressive muscle relaxation, guided imagery, the works. By the end, Jamie looks noticeably more at ease, his shoulders no longer up by his ears.

"Thanks Syd, I think those will really help," he says earnestly as he stands to leave.

"Anytime. My door is always open." I give him an encouraging grin as he departs.

No sooner has Jamie vacated the doorway than Lukas appears, his hulking defenseman frame making the room feel instantly smaller. Oh boy, here we go again .

"Hey Sydney, I was hoping I'd catch you," he says, an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his usually confident voice.

I stifle my exhaustion, waving him in. "Well, you're in luck. What's up?"

As he starts unloading about his anxiety over his slipping performance stats, the weight of the job presses down on me. Player after player, worry after worry .. .I'm starting to feel like a sponge that's soaked up all it can hold.

I glance longingly at my phone, wishing I had the energy to text DJ or Tyler to see if they want to grab a much-needed drink….or maybe work out our stress in the bedroom.

But who am I kidding? By the time I'm done listening to Lukas pour his heart out, I'll barely have the mental capacity to drive myself home and face-plant into bed. And it's not like Ty has been around much lately, anyway...

Sighing inwardly, I try to focus on the stressed man in front of me, knowing that I'd give a lot to trade this conversation for one with Tyler, where he really opens up to me about what's going on with him…

The next morning I sit across from Tomas in my cozy office, eyeing him with concern. He hunches forward, elbows on his knees, mouth turned down at the corners.

Something is clearly weighing heavily on him today.

"What's on your mind, Tomas?" I ask gently, giving him an encouraging smile. "This is a safe space. You can talk to me about anything."

He exhales slowly and runs a hand through his short, dark hair. "It's just...things with my girlfriend. They're not good." His accent thickens, the way it does when he's upset.

I nod, letting him take his time. We've discussed his relationship issues before, but he hasn't been ready to make any big changes yet. Here's hoping that starts today .

"She yelled at me on the phone again last night. Called me stupid, worthless." Tomas's jaw clenches. Pain flashes in his eyes. "Said I care more about hockey than her and I'll never amount to anything."

"I'm so sorry she said those things to you. She's abusing you, Tomas." Keeping my voice calm and nonjudgmental, I hold his gaze. I'll keep telling him this for as long as he needs to hear it . "You don't deserve to be treated that way by anyone, especially your partner."

"I know." He shakes his head. "And I keep making excuses, but...it keeps getting worse. The insults, the anger, the jealousy. She's so controlling. I feel trapped."

As Tomas shares more examples, each one breaks my heart. Every time we discuss this it hits too close to home, reminding me of how Paul used to berate and belittle me. No wonder Tomas always seems on edge lately. Living under constant criticism would erode anyone's self-worth.

"Can I share something from my own experience?" I venture when he falls silent.

At his nod, I take a deep breath.

"I was in an abusive relationship too," I say, "not that long ago. Similar to what you've described—the cruel put-downs, explosive outbursts, possessiveness. It started small but escalated over time."

Tomas's eyes widen. "Really? But you seem so...strong. Put together."

"It can happen to anyone," I assure him. "Abuse is insidious like that, chipping away at you bit by bit. But Tomas, leaving was the best and bravest thing I ever did. As painful as it was, I'm happier and healthier now. I got myself back."

"I want that too. To feel...free again. Like myself." He straightens up, something shifting in his expression. Determination mixed with grief. "I have to end it with her, don't I? Forever?"

"That's a big decision, and it has to be yours. But I think you're incredibly strong for even considering it. For valuing yourself enough to walk away from a situation that's hurting you." I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. "You have so much to offer, Tomas. You deserve a relationship built on love, trust and respect. Never let anyone make you feel ‘less than'."

Tears glisten in his eyes but don't fall. He swallows hard and nods.

"You're right. I know you're right. I've been thinking it for a while, I just..." His hands clench. "I have to do it. I have to break up with Alicia. No more living like this."

Pride and relief swell in my chest. This is a huge breakthrough . "I'm so proud of you for making this choice. I know it isn't easy. And I'll be here to support you every step of the way, okay? You're not alone in this."

"Thank you, Sydney," he says hoarsely. "For listening, for understanding, for...everything. I couldn't have gotten to this point without you."

"You did the hard work," I tell him firmly. "This is your strength. And things will get better from here, I promise."

We spend a few minutes going over safety strategies and self-care for the difficult days to come. As our session winds down, I'm filled with bittersweet elation.

I'm overjoyed for Tomas and the abuse-free future that awaits him.

But it's also stirring up a lot of feelings about my own healing journey. I know I still have work to do on rebuilding my sense of self, but helping Tomas makes me feel like I've taken a big step forward.

Tomas stands to leave and I walk him to the door with a warm smile. "Brighter days are ahead, Tomas. For you and the team."

Tomas smiles back, then mutters under his breath, "Unless DJ's knee's shot again and we're all screwed."

I grab his shoulder before he can leave. "Wait, what? What's wrong with DJ's knee?"

Tomas waves it aside as if it's none of my concern. "Oh, nothing—I just noticed that DJ was limping off the ice today, made me kind of nervous that his old injury's acting up again." He shakes his head. "Last fucking thing we need right now. Anyway, thanks again, I'll keep you updated."

With that, Tomas exits, leaving me blinking in surprise. DJ's hurt?

I finally find DJ limping across the parking lot, favoring his right knee as he hauls his hockey bag toward his Mustang. Worry shoots through me at the sight.

"DJ, wait up!" I call out, jogging over to him. He turns, his dark eyes wary as I approach. Up close, I can see the exhaustion etched on his chiseled face. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He sighs, dropping his bag with a thud. "Look, it's not a great time, okay?" His voice is weary, defensive. "It's been a really long day."

I frown, not wanting to let him go in this state. "It's just I...noticed you were skating differently at practice today. Like you were in pain." I search his face, trying to gauge his reaction. "Is your knee bothering you?"

DJ stiffens, his jaw tightening. "You spying on me or something? Did the coaches put you up to this?" His words come out sharp, accusatory.

"What? No, of course not!" I protest, taken aback by his hostile tone. "I'm just worried about you, that's all. If you're injured, you need to get it checked out before it gets worse."

Why is he being so prickly?

"I can handle it," he snaps coldly. "I don't need some shrink babysitting me or telling me what to do. Just stay out of my business, alright?" He savagely throws his bag into his car and moves to get inside.

Tears spring to my eyes at his harsh dismissal. This was a mistake. He doesn't trust me, doesn't want my help.

"Fine," I choke out. "Excuse me for giving a damn."

Before he can respond, I spin on my heel and make a beeline for my car. DJ calls after me but I don't look back, blinking furiously to hold back the flood threatening to spill over.

I yank open the door and peel out of the parking space, not daring to glance in the rearview mirror as I speed away. Hot tears stream down my face.

Tyler's avoiding my calls, and now this… Suddenly, the joy of last week feels very out of reach.