Sydney looks exhausted when I get to the apartment, carrying a nearly asleep Savannah.
“Lay her on the couch,” Sydney says softly.
I check the time. Damn it. I have to get ready to leave for the arena. We were at the hospital longer than I thought we were, and I was at EJ’s longer than I thought I was. “I have to go soon.”
“I know.” She lies next to Savannah and closes her eyes.
“Are you going to talk to me when I get home?”
She shrugs a shoulder. Damn it.
“Need anything?”
“Sleep.”
“Babe,” I start.
“Go away, Ian. Get ready for your game and go away.”
For a few moments, I stand there, waiting to see if she’ll give me something, anything, to soothe the building unease, but nothing happens. I leave for our bedroom to change into a suit. Sydney is asleep when I come back into the living room. She’s pissed, but I don’t care. I lean down and kiss both of their foreheads before I go. What happened was a simple mistake. She can’t stay pissed at me forever.
Right?
Reluctantly, I turn the game on. The last thing I want to do is think about Ian, but Savannah wanted to watch while we eat the cookies Ian promised I would make her. Our nap didn’t last long enough if you ask me. Getting that call and dealing with Savannah when she was hurt and in pain has left me emotionally exhausted. That is a first I never want to experience again. Once was more than enough.
Savannah has already asked when she can take the cast off. Hopefully, being like Logan will be enough for her to like it while she has it. Logan is supposed to be on his way over here, too. I called Mom to tell her what happened, and Logan was next. He wants to see her, so he should be here soon. I’m glad because I want to see him.
“Goal!” Savannah’s arms shoot up in the air as a horn goes off on the TV.
“That was a fantastic pass by Zane Landry,” one of the broadcasters says.
“Mommy!” She pats my leg, even though she has my full attention. “That’s Z!”
“Yeah, he helped score the goal. You’ll have to give him a fist bump next time you see him.” There’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I call out.
“Lo-Lo! Look! I’m like you!”
“I see that. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to go around getting yourself hurt?” he asks as he takes a seat next to me and pulls her into his lap, checking her over.
“It was accident,” she tells him, totally obliterating the word ‘accident.’
I half-listen as he talks to her and I watch the game. It’s good to have the two guys giving a play-by-play because what I learned, I’ve nearly forgotten already. Liam Irving comes out of the blue paint, going around the net to play the puck, and I tense. What is he doing? Shouldn’t the goalie stay in front of the net? He can’t keep the puck out if he’s behind the net. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief when he’s back in his place, just in time to make a save, too.
When there’s a stoppage in play, a commercial comes on.
“How’d Ian react? How’d you react?” Logan asks, now coloring on her cast.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I didn’t tell him much of anything earlier, except that she got hurt while they were outside playing. I thought I wanted to talk about it, but now? I’m too tired to get into it.
“That bad?”
“Worse.”
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Yep.”
He shakes his head and the game comes back on. Eventually, I have to talk to Ian. That’s bad enough. Right now, I’m drowning in disappointment. Talking about what happened isn’t going to help things.