Page 160 of With the Assist

They exchange a glance and hesitate, like they don’t know if they’re supposed to tell me. Their faces stop me in my tracks.

Haley presses a button on her phone, turning it toward me. It’s glowing, catching the fluorescent light.

The video starts.

Nathan is moving fast on the ice, chasing the puck. Then, he’s hit from the side. It must’ve caught him off guard because he doesn’t brace for it. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I watch him fall. His body collapses, helmet slamming into the ice as his stick skitters away.

My hands tremble, bile rising in my throat. His body twitches, but he doesn’t get up. He’s out cold.

The world tilts and my heart thunders in my ears. The video restarts, but I look away, unable to watch it a second time. Nathan. My Nathan. He’s completely unconscious on the ice. I sink onto the bench, not even aware of doing it.

Coach Bennett’s voice cuts in, like a distant echo. “Okay, team, eyes up. Warmups are almost…”

I don’t hear the rest. Everything is Nathan. His face, the way he used to hold me, and the sound of his helmet hitting ice. The panic in my chest claws through me until it’s all I am.

My body is fighting to stay calm, but my mind is hazy with only one thought breaking through the fog. I love him. I’ve been trying to bury it, ignore it, rationalize it away with training and focus, but seeing him there, helpless and out cold, it’s like a punch through the center of my chest.

He may not ever forgive me. I could never expect him to after hurting him the way I did. But now, right this second, I’m not sure how I could ever forgive myself if I don’t go to him.

Something clicks into place. I jump to my feet, keys in hand, and my cleats forgotten on the bench. “I have to go,” I interrupt, voice sharp enough to make every head turn toward me.

Coach Bennett freezes mid-sentence, eyebrows raising. “Wesley, sit down. We’re about to play a game here. This is important.”

“I can’t,” I breathe, my keys shaking faintly in my grasp.

Her gaze is calm, even as she tries to stop me. “National Team coaches are in the stands. This is your moment, Wesley. Don’t throw it away.”

“I know,” I say, my voice shaking. “I know. But...”

Coach’s eyes narrow as she steps closer, voice quiet but intense. “Is it worth it?”

I pause, heart hammering, eyes flicking toward every face in the room, knowing that the only face I need to see isn’t here.

“He’s worth it.”

She scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. Avery jumps in explaining Nathan’s injury, but I only hear bits and pieces, the picture of him hitting the ice replaying in my head.

Coach Bennett nods at me, her expression softer. “I’ll take care of it, Wesley. Go.”

Without another word, I turn, racing past my startled teammates toward the parking lot. My fingers tap against the steering wheel, but adrenaline pushes me forward as the car peels away from the stadium.

I don’t look back. I don’t let myself worry about what I might’ve given up. I choose him.

44

Nathan

The light in here drills straight through my skull. A low groan barely makes it past my throat, and I immediately regret it when pain blooms behind my eyes. My head feels thick, stuffed with cotton and glass that pulses every time my heart beats.

I try to move and realize I can’t. Or maybe I can, but my body is slow to respond, as if there’s a delay between the thought and the action. My right shoulder aches in its sling, so I hold it as still as possible.

“Hey,” a voice says. “You’re awake.”

I blink, squinting against the light as shapes start to form. The hospital room is bright and sterile. My eyes dart from the chair across the room to the bed rail at my side, trying to identify the voice.

“Easy,” the voice says, softer now. “They said you’d be groggy as the pain meds wore off.”

“Delaney?” My voice comes out hoarse, like I’ve been screaming all night instead of sleeping.