24. Wes

Wes

Tonight we’re playing Pittsburgh. They’re a great team, but I’m confident we can kick their asses. Our morning skate went well, and Blake is back on the ice.

Even better, when I exit the stadium for our pre-game hours of rest, there aren’t any nutbars picketing the stadium, and I haven’t heard about black-market ticket sales in a couple days.

Could the frenzy be winding down? I fucking hope so.

This morning when I left, Jamie had the playoffs calendar in one hand and a travel reservations website open on his laptop. On my way out the door I asked him to think if there were any resorts he might want to visit in Cali. “Or how about a couple days in Hawaii before we see your family?” I’d asked.

“Sounds expensive,” he’d mumbled.

But I wanted him to think big. After this grueling year, we deserve to have some fun. While I drive home I think about paddle-boarding with Jamie on a beach somewhere. And ordering beers with wedges of limes jammed into their tops. I’d mentioned Hawaii, but Mexico was also fun.

I’m whistling as I let myself into our apartment. Inside the door, the first thing I notice is that it’s messy. There are several glasses on the countertop, and magazines cascading from the coffee table to the floor. That’s not exactly a big deal. But Jamie is kind of a neat freak most of the time¸ and lately he just doesn’t care. That worries me. A lot.

“Babe?” I call as I often do when I arrive.

There’s no answer, but I hear the sound of a zipper from somewhere inside the apartment.

I drop my coat onto our coat tree (something Jamie bought when he grew sick of finding my coat on the couch). A few quick strides bring me down the hall and into our bedroom.

Jamie is bent over a large duffel bag. His duffel bag. He’s tucking a shaving kit into the end part.

“Babe?” I say again.

He startles, then straightens up quickly. Guiltily. “Hey,” he says, his voice gruff. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Obviously. I don’t say it, though. I’m too busy doing the math. There’s a print-out on the bed. BOARDING PASS, it reads. Air Canada. His computer is zipped into its case beside it. His phone and charging cord lie beside them on the bed. “Where are you going?” I croak.

“Home,” he says, then quickly adds, “To see my folks. I told you I thought I needed some time in California. I can’t go back to work yet, right? Might as well visit.”

“Um…” Something is just really wrong with this. His face is pinking up, too. “Were you going to tell me? Were you even going to say goodbye?” It comes out sounding jagged and scared. But I am scared.

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course. I knew you’d be home about now.”

Warning bells are blaring. Jamie is standing five feet away, his hands stuffed awkwardly in the pockets of his jeans. I’ve never been in a relationship before. But this isn’t how it was supposed to work. “Are we breaking up right now?” I blurt.

Jamie looks startled, as if he didn’t expect me to say it out loud. “No,” he says after only the slightest hesitation. “No. This is just a vacation. I…” He clears his throat. “I just need to see my folks.”

But I can’t help but hear, I just need to be away from you.

My heart is pounding in my ears. Do I yell at him now? Is that the right thing to do? I don’t know what Jamie needs. If I knew, I’d give it to him. A loud, pushy display of my love would be one way to go.

But what if this trip is what he really needs? What if some sunshine will fix him? Indecision keeps me rooted to the floor, and my throat is hot and achy all of a sudden. I grab my water glass off the bedside table and drain it while I try to figure out what to say.

His phone rings on the bed. He grabs it and answers. “Thank you,” he says after a minute. That’s the whole call.

“Who was that?” I croak out.

“The, uh, cab company. The car will be here in ten.”

I fight off a whole-body shiver. “If you needed a ride to the airport, why didn’t you ask me?” What the HELL is happening here?

His expression turns guilty again. “Dunno,” he said, studying his shoes. “Just thought it would be easier this way.”

He’s right. Because I’d probably make a scene at the airport. I’m pretty close to making one right now. “I don’t want you to go, Canning.”

Jamie cringes. “I gotta…” He chokes on the word. “Gotta just try something, okay?” When he raises his eyes again, they’re wet.

Now I’m more panicked than ever. I stumble toward him and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back, at least. My throat locks up completely. No no no no I chant inside. I’d yell it if I knew it was the right thing to do. But how do I deny him a trip to his parents? Tomorrow I’m leaving for Minnesota. It makes no sense for me to beg him to stay and then hop on the team jet for five days.

Fuck.

So I man up and do what is right. “Take care of yourself,” I whisper. “You’re really fucking important to me.”

He hugs me a little tighter and takes a shaky breath. “You too.”

Okay. I can do this. “I love you,” I say, taking half a step back.

“Love you, too,” he mutters.

He doesn’t look me in the eye.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He putters with the last few items on the bed, zipping them into wherever they go. The cab company texts him that the driver is downstairs ahead of schedule.

Awesome.

I walk him as far as the door of our apartment. I kiss him on the cheek and hug him one more time.

Then I let him walk into the hallway alone. If I go downstairs I’ll just make a fool of myself.

Instead, I put my forehead against the cool steel of our door and listen to the sound of his footsteps retreating.

One more time I go over it in my mind. A trip to Cali to see his parents. He can’t go to work anyway. He said we’re not breaking up. It’s a vacation.

So why does it all feel like I just let my heart leap out of my chest and take a cab to the airport?