There’s a face-off, which we apparently lose. The Sabres clear the zone, one of them has the puck on his stick, and he’s rushing down the ice toward Liam. I hold my breath as he lifts the stick high and shoots. Exhaling, I mentally congratulate Liam. He was posed and ready, making a sick glove save as he lifted his arm up in the air and moved it down just in time to catch it.
“Are you really watching a game?” Logan asks.
“Savannah wanted to.”
He raises an eyebrow at me because she’s now coloring on his cast and definitely not watching the game. I’m a breath away from telling him to go home. I’m not in a social mood after all.
“What’s been going on with Carey?” I ask to change the subject.
“I don’t know. She isn’t talking to me.”
The excitement coming from the announcers distracts me as I look back to the TV to see Ian fighting with some guy. Totally missed what happened to cause that. Is it bad that I’m rooting for the other guy in this instance? It’s not like I’m going to whoop Ian’s ass. Someone else might as well do it. When they cut the cameras to Ian in the penalty box, I feel guilty. I’m a terrible person to wish he’d at least have a busted lip or something. I really feel bad when later, he gets a high-stick to the face and then there is blood. My god, how many times do they need to show a replay of that?
Thankfully, the period ends soon after what happened to Ian. Since Logan is here, Savannah wants him to read to her before bed, so I’m left alone while he does that. My mind wanders to the panic I felt earlier when I got that call from Savannah’s daycare. My little girl has never been hurt before. I wanted to faint when they told me about her injuries; it didn’t help that I could hear her crying in the background either.
I immediately headed to the hospital because they told me that the ambulance just arrived to take her. I also began my first of many attempts to get ahold of Ian. I needed him there, and after the fourth call, I realized that I had no way of getting in touch with him if he was busy with work, though I knew he should be done by then. But what if it was during a game or practice and something happened that I needed to reach him? Who would I call to get word to him? I have no earthly idea. That pissed me off because he should make sure I’m able to do that if it’s an emergency.
But it was an emergency, he shouldn’t have been cau
ght up with work, and I still couldn’t get ahold of him. He’s supposed to be dependable and reliable. He should be there for me, especially when it comes to Savannah. Yet, the phone rang and rang. Texts went unanswered. All the while, I’m barely holding on once I see an inconsolable Savannah, her broken arm, and the blood on her face. I wanted to throw up when I saw her. For a solid second, I thought I was going to.
Two thoughts were running through my mind: My poor baby. God, is she going to be okay? And where. The. Fuck. Is. Ian?
I needed him. Savannah wanted him. He was off doing who knows what.
I did text Meredith and Lizzy and asked if they would get Noah and Marc to find Ian for me because if he was still with teammates or at work, they’d have better luck.
Now that I know what he was doing and why he wasn’t answering, I’m still just as pissed and upset. This feels so major for him to be unreachable when we needed him to be there. This entire situation has sent me spiraling, rethinking everything between us, and second-guessing our relationship.
“Syd?”
I glance up to see Logan. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“No, but don’t worry about me just yet. She all tucked in?”
“Yeah. Do you want me to stay for a while? I was planning to head home, but I don’t mind hanging out if you want me to.”
My gut is to tell him no, but I pat the seat next to me and he hobbles over, plopping down on the couch. Logan puts an arm around me. I burst into tears, causing him to pull me in closer.
“Damn, Syd. What the fuck happened today?”
“She broke her arm and it took for-fucking-ever to get up with Ian,” I cry. “It’s wore me out and made me crazy. I’m sorry.” I try to calm myself and wipe away the wetness on my cheeks. “Just watch the game with me.”
“All right. If you want me to kick Ian’s ass or anything, just say the word.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
“And just so you know, I expect a really good birthday present this year. I’ve been a fantastic brother.”
“Yes, you have. Thank you. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours.”
Logan starts talking, essentially giving me a list like I’m Santa and it’s Christmas. I watch as a goal by the captain, Brayden Hayes, is reviewed, but because of Logan’s talking, I miss why it’s under review. At least we’re leading four to two right now. Brayden’s goal will make it five if it’s good.
Unfortunately, Logan’s talking puts me to sleep. One second, I’m waiting for them to review the call, taking what seems like an awful long time, and the next, I hear Ian’s voice.
“What are you doing here?” It’s quiet and curious.