Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I reached out to touch it, lifting it carefully in my hand. I could see where the cracks had been. But just like the plate Aika had made us smash in Japan, and then repair, it was even more special in the aftermath. It spoke of healing and forgiveness.
It spoke of me and Cill.
“I found it by the pond.” I snapped my head up in surprise. My dad was in the doorway, Mom hovering close behind. They had been so worried about me. But they were lighter these days, seeing me better too. I couldn’t imagine the pain they had gone through.
Dad stepped farther into the room. His eyes glistened as he looked over the walls. Mom let her tears fall. I used to believe this room was cursed. Tainted. But being in here again now … it was all Cillian. It was filled with the brother I missed. It wasn’t anything to fear. It was … it felt like coming home.
Dad put his hands in his pockets. He had just come back from work, still wearing his cop uniform. “I had it repaired.” He glanced at me shyly. “I thought you’d want it … someday. Maybe. I don’t know …”
I ran my hand over the wood. Too many memories had been made with Cillian holding this stick. Me beside him, my big brother, my hero … “Thank you,” I whispered.
I sank down on his bed, Mom sitting beside me. She wrapped her arm around me and looked up at the wall of pictures. “You two …” she said, laughing through tears. “I was gray in my thirties thanks to you two and hockey.” I laughed and wiped at my eyes. “But I loved it at the same time,” she said, holding me tighter. “Taking you both all over the state, getting up at the crack of dawn for practices … watching you both playing on the pond when you didn’t know I was there.” Mom sobered up. “When it’s hard,” she said, voice shaking, “that’s what I hold on to. And I find happiness there. I can be happy there, in those memories.”
Savannah’s face entered my mind. It was the mention of happiness that had done it. I missed Savannah like I didn’t know was possible. I missed her small hand in mine, missed her flushed cheeks when she was easily embarrassed. Missed her kiss and her thick southern accent.
I just missed her, period.
“Thinking about your girl again?” Dad said, and I huffed a laugh. I’d told them all about her. How could I not? She was all I thought of. When therapy had me on my knees, it was her face and weekly call that stopped me from crumbling. Her quiet strength, the way she had walked through grief with such dignity and grace.
That was my girl.
“I miss her,” I said, and my mom held me tighter.
“We can’t wait to meet her,” Dad said. I liked the idea of that.
We stayed in Cillian’s room for another hour. Reminiscing about the times we held closest to our hearts. We smiled and we cried, but as I walked out of the front door of the house, another weight had been lifted. Day by day, the shackles that had held me down had begun to loosen, and then they’d dropped away completely.
It was one day at a time, but each day I felt stronger and stronger.
I drove my Jeep to the place that was once my second home. I knew there was no practice today. And that it would be empty. Now that I’d come home, my old coach had said I could come and practice here whenever the rink was free. He was just happy I was me again and that I’d found my way back onto the ice.
The minute I was through the door, the cold wind and fresh scent of ice invaded my senses. I followed the hallway to the familiar locker room. I threw my bag on the bench and began to put on my practice clothes, then eventually my skates.
When I reached the entrance of the rink, I let the cold breeze bite at my face. Gripping my stick in my hands, I stepped onto the ice and exhaled with ease as I did. I circled the rink faster and faster until I felt like I was flying. I may have had a year of no practice, but this was muscle memory. It was what I was born to do.
You didn’t forget that.
I stared out at the seats, picturing them full again, lights shining on the ice and music blasting from the speakers. I saw me and my team lining up, hands over our hearts and singing the national anthem.
I wanted it. I wanted that back so badly.
“Woods!” I opened my eyes and came to an abrupt stop. My heart beat faster as I saw Stephan Eriksson, my best friend skating toward me. Coach had told me no one would be here today. By Stephan’s wide, shocked eyes, I presumed Coach had told him the same thing. It was just like him to throw us back together this way.