Chapter 24

“ A re you nervous?” Paige whispers, squeezing my hand and resting her head on my shoulder.

I know she’s keeping her voice low so that Coach doesn’t feel uncomfortable. I figured him coming here today made the most sense. That way, we could all be here, in one room. When I get the news for what comes next, good or bad, he’ll be here to hear it from the horse’s mouth. The horse being my doctor.

Glancing down at her, I wink. “Nah. It’s all good.” I inhale, knowing that’s bullshit.

Of course I’m anxious because any second now, the doctor is going to come in and read all the results from my tests. If he tells me my heart is still fucked, I can’t go back to work. But if he tells me my heart is healed … I have to make a decision about what I want to do, moving forward.

Paige is right; I could get hit in the same spot again. Could my heart really take that? I don’t know. I know no matter what, she’ll be beside me. Paige would never make me walk away from hockey, even if that meant she had to continue sitting in the stands, scared at every game. But do I really want that for her?

Shit, do I really want that for myself?

“It’s okay to be nervous, baby,” she says softly, her eyes filled with empathy. “Just remember, one day at a time. And one step at a time.”

“Thanks.” I blink a few times, giving her a tiny smile. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

There’s a slight knock at the door before it pushes open, and in walks the doctor with his clipboard. First, he bobs his head at Coach, greeting him before shifting his gaze toward us.

When he holds his hand out, Paige unlinks hers from mine so that I can shake his hand.

“Mr. Kolburne, how are you feeling?” He gives my hand a firm shake before moving to Paige and giving hers a small one.

“I feel good,” I say honestly. “Have for a while now.”

Walking over to the stool, he sits down. “That’s great to hear. I have some good news for you too.”

Out of instinct, his words send me looking at my wife, who chews her lip nervously. No doubt waiting to hear that I’m cleared to go back to work.

Taking her hand in mine, I bring it to my lips before turning back toward the doctor and waiting for what he has to say.

Standing up, he walks toward the screen and hits a small black button, lighting the screen up. He takes a few films from the counter and slaps them against it.

“This is your heart. So, if there was ever a question if you had one, we can confidently put that to rest,” he jokes, pointing toward the pictures.

“I’ll let the team know,” Coach chimes in. “They weren’t so sure.”

I roll my eyes, smirking. “Unreal really.”

“So, these are your scans from when you first came in. And then these over here are from today.” He smacks his finger against them. “Mr. Kolburne, your heart is almost one hundred percent back to what it was before you took the hit.” He walks toward the countertop, pulling out a few pieces of paper. “And all of your levels? They look great. You passed every test we ran with flying colors.”

His face grows strained, and he sets the papers down and turns off the light before sitting back down again.

“Where’s the but ?” I say nonchalantly because judging by this dude’s face, there is one. “Get this kick to my nuts over with, would ya?”

He looks from Coach to me and sighs. “Even after all these tests and imaging, I’m not convinced it would be in your best interest to return so soon.” He leans forward slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “While it’s clear you’re doing better and the tests don’t lie, we can’t look past the fact that you suffered a serious health complication. Kolt, you had a heart attack.”

Before I can answer, Coach does. “In your expert opinion, what do you think he should do? What’s the protocol here?”

“The thing is, this is a unique situation,” the doctor answers, shrugging. “If you look at him, he’s fine. He’s strong. He’s solid. He’s healthy. But we both know that playing at the NHL level requires more than that.” He waves his hand at me, talking about me like I’m in a tank or something on display. “He’s had nearly four weeks off. Needed? Yes. In that time, not only was his heart repairing itself, but his body was also resting.”

He pulls in a deep breath, hanging his head for a moment before lifting it to me. “In my professional opinion, it would be beneficial for him to remain benched and gradually work back into his regular training routine. And then, if all goes well, he could return to the ice in time for the playoffs in the spring. If your team makes it there.”

“This whole time, you made it sound like I was going to be cleared and then I could rejoin the Sharks,” I bark out, throwing a hand up. “I thought that’s why I was doing all the shit I did. To fucking go back to work. Now, you’re telling me that my heart is great, but my body is weak and shit? What the fuck was the point of this all?”

“Kolburne,” Coach utters in warning. He knows me enough to know that I can go from zero to one hundred pretty fucking quick.

I didn’t know if I even wanted to be cleared, and now that I’m not … I’m irate.

“If I’d told you all those weeks ago that it wasn’t likely you’d return this season, you would have never taken this recovery as seriously as you have,” he answers matter-of-factly. “You needed something to work for, and I gave you that.”

The veins in my neck begin to bulge. I like this doctor—at least, I did. But now, I feel like he fucking lied to me. Not to mention, he treated me like a fucking child, placating me.

Paige’s small hand gives mine a squeeze. “Just breathe,” she whispers. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“It’s clear you don’t know my player well. The one thing he hates more than anything is being made a fool of,” Coach tells the doctor, adjusting his hat on his head as he seemingly thinks of his next words. “This is no bullshit now though, right? If he does everything he can to get back into shape and we make it to the playoffs, he can play. No restrictions?”

“Yes.” He jerks his head up and down. “I can never make any promises; the body is a complicated thing. But I am very confident that would be plenty of time for him to get back to where he needs to be while also ensuring his heart has more time to heal.”

Coach heads toward me and kneels down. His expression grows softer, which isn’t something I’m used to with him. “I know this isn’t what your stubborn ass wanted to hear today, Kolburne. But I swear to you, if you bide your time and keep putting in the work, when we make it to the playoffs, it’ll be sweeter when you step out onto the ice.”

“No guarantee that’ll happen, Coach. You know the road to the playoffs isn’t paved with fucking glitter and rainbows.”

“Then, help me get the team ready, you dickhead,” he utters.

He cranes his neck to face the doctor. “Could he do that? Can he come to every practice and be a part of the team that way?”

“Absolutely,” the doctor says instantly.

When he turns back toward me, the corner of his lips turns up. “What do you say? You can help me give those boys hell until you get back out there.”

Inhaling sharply, I glance at Paige, and she gives me the sweetest smile.

“All right,” I finally say, pulling my hand sluggishly from Paige’s and smacking my palms together. “But if the playoffs come and this guy tells me I can’t play, I’m going to flip this entire fucking hospital upside down.”

“Deal,” Coach utters.

I know today didn’t go how Kolt had wanted it to go. The thing is, when he walked in there, I’m not even sure he knew how he wanted it to go. Even though I didn’t mean to and it was never my intention, when I expressed my concern about him returning to the team, I think it put a sense of doubt in his head.

The drive home is quiet as the music plays softly on the radio with Kolt behind the wheel. Sometimes, he just needs some space, and I want to give him that. But I also need him to know I’m here and that I support him endlessly.

“I’m sorry today didn’t go how you’d hoped it would,” I whisper, looking over at him with a grim expression. “I’m sure none of that was easy to hear.”

He thinks for a second before sighing. “You know, you’re probably right. I mean, I could get hurt again. I could take another hit right to the fucking chest and die.” He looks over at me. “A smart man would walk away while he still could.” He shrugs, looking back at the road. “Maybe it’s time that I try to be that smart man.”

“Stop it,” I whisper.

Though it hurts, I force myself to smile. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, Kolt. But you also aren’t the guy who’s going to walk away from a game that might have saved your life.”

I reach over, taking his hand in mine. “When you got the news that you weren’t going to be able to go back until the playoffs, your entire body language changed. You weren’t just sad. You were … panicked. Shook even. And angry.”

I squeeze his hand. “It’s okay not to be done on the ice. And it’s all right to feel bad because you know I’m scared for you.” I pull his hand up, kissing it. “You aren’t done yet, baby. And that’s ok. And I promise you that when the time comes for you to put on your gear and lace up your skates, I will be okay. You know why? Because watching you play hockey? I get to see you really, truly happy. And that will always be bigger than any fear I have about you getting hurt.”

“You know what bummed me out the most when he said I couldn’t return yet?” his deep voice drawls. “Knowing I had to wait even longer to see my wife in the stands again, wearing my jersey.” He side-eyes me. “That’s one of the things I’ve missed most. Looking up during a game and knowing you’re there.”

I take my other hand and cup it over his. “I know,” I whisper. “Me too.”

“Want to go to lunch? There’s some new soup and salad place just calling your name,” he jokes. “Your favorite type of shit.”

I smile. “That sounds good, babe. As long as you’re up for it.” My eyes widen, and I giggle. “And as long as they have something you can eat. It could be a lot of stuff with those things you hate. Veggies. ”

“I mean, they probably have a grilled cheese. Maybe even some bacon.” He shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

Even though he just got news that I know hurt him, he’s making it about me. And taking me to lunch instead of being sour over it.

I smirk to myself, knowing that when we get home, I’m going to cheer him up. I have to. After all, he always does that for me.