Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
My dad flushes the toilet for me, and I drop to the floor in front of the bowl, glad I’m not a disgusting pig who leaves the bathroom a wreck. I drop my head between my knees, trying to find some calm. I don’t close my eyes, though. I don’t want those images back.
His hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “Take a few deep breaths.”
I do as he says, tracing the pattern in the tile floor with my eyes, trying to shake the dream, and wishing Clover were here, but at the same time glad she didn’t witness this.
She’d tell me I need to talk to someone.
She’d be right too.
“You all right?” Dad asks after a minute—or longer. I’m not sure.
“Yeah, just a bad dream,” I mumble.
“Sounded like a lot more than a bad dream.” He clears his throat. “Talk to me. What’s going on? I feel like I’m on the outside, and I’m not used to that when it comes to you.”
I raise my head and hate the expression on his face, the concern, but more prevalent is the hurt. I realize this isn’t fair to either of us. I’ve spent my life nodding in agreement, following the path that’s been set out for me, because it felt like the easier thing to do.
“I don’t know if I want this.”
“Want what?” he says.
I shift so my back is to the wall. He sits on the edge of the tub, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees.
I take a deep breath and say the words I’ve been choking on for a while now. “I don’t know if I want to play professional hockey.”
“You’ve got contract talk jitters. Those are completely normal.”
I shake my head. “No, Dad, I don’t think that’s it.”
“You’ve been playing your whole life,” he says gently. “This is what you’ve worked so hard for.”
“I don’t know that I should have been a first-round pick. I’m not as good a player as you.”
“Nashville saw your potential. Give yourself some time at training camp to get comfortable. You’ll get your feet under you. The skill is there. And you have the discipline.”
He’s not wrong about the discipline. I have that. But the skill set? That’s been a struggle. I see it every day when I’m on the ice with my team, Kody especially. So, I go with blatant honesty, because I feel like I have nothing left to lose—except years of my life doing something I’m not sure will make me happy.
“Even if I have the discipline and skill, I don’t know that I can spend my entire career on the ice trying to live up to your legacy, Dad.”
His expression softens, and I see it, how hard this is for him too. “I don’t expect that from you. Your career is yours. I’m not asking you to follow in my footsteps like that.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.” I stare down at my hands, wishing I had something to do with them other than inspect my hangnail.
“Son, look at me.” He waits until I drag my eyes away from the floor. “You could never disappoint me. What’s going on in your head? Does this have to do with the woman you’re seeing?”
“No, it doesn’t have to do with Clover.” I shake my head. “Actually, yes, it does, but not in the way you think.” I drop my hand and meet his imploring gaze. “She’s not trying to sway me one way or the other. If anything, me playing professional hockey would be better for us. Then at least I’d look legit.” I sigh. “She’s been a great sounding board. We’ve talked it all through. She knows you not as Alex Waters the hockey legend, but as my dad. She’s not subjected to the chatter of me following the same path.” I run my hands over my thighs. “I’ve been having a lot of nightmares—tonight was probably the worst yet—and they’ve been ramping up the closer we get to training camp. I can already see what this is going to look like. My stats aren’t like Kody’s. I know you’ve been keeping it positive, but I don’t know if I’m NHL ready, or if I’m ever going to be. If I didn’t have a dad who was a hockey legend, that might be okay, but the reality is, you’ve had an incredible career, and no matter what, I’m always going to feel like I’m in your shadow—not because you’ve done anything to make it that way, but that’s just the way it is. It’s different with Kody. He’s a natural. He’s better than his dad, and that’s saying something. Because Rook was and still is an amazing player.” I hold up my hand to stop Dad from interrupting. “And maybe I could be as good as you. Maybe I could even be better, but I don’t think I want to be.”