Chapter Seven
Emily
December
Thanksgiving was amazing, but it's all gone to shit now. Jake was injured in his last game. It was terrifying to see him leave the game and not return. With it being an away game, it was that much worse. I couldn't immediately see him and see for myself that he was okay, to have him look me in the eyes and tell me that it's nothing serious. Talking to him over the phone wasn't enough to satisfy me. I wanted to see him, and I want him to be able to play.
The wait for him to come home was agonizing. I swear that there is a wear in the carpet from where I paced while I waited. Until I saw him for myself, touched him, and inspected his body, it was hard to believe that he was fine. But he was. I'm so thankful that it wasn't a serious enough injury for him to miss more than a few weeks.
However, he's already been home for a week, and you would think that they told him that he could never play again by how moody he's been. I sympathize with him and how he can't play, but it just confirms what I said during our last argument. Hockey is his life, and that's all that matters. He's blowing his injury and how this is affecting his life out of proportion. I swear if he whines to me one more time, I'm going to explode. I'm trying so hard to stay true to how I'm feeling about his injury, which is that I'm sad for him, but he's making it impossible. He's making me angry.
Jake behaves like it's the end of the world for him. I understand that the change in pace is something he has to adjust to, but he'll be playing again soon. He should be thankful for that and enjoy the extra time he gets to spend with us. Not complain all the time. How can he not be pissing me off?
Work has become my safe haven, but every workday has to end. Drake has a day off from hockey, so we're home earlier than usual. Unfortunately, Drake has been in a cranky mood too. So really, I don't want to be home at all. I honestly think that the boys bounce their moods off each other. If Jake is ill or mopey, Drake is short, curt, and a smart ass. It's almost like if Jake isn't being the person we've known all this time, then Drake gets out of whack and acts out due to his frustrations with Jake's behaviors. They need to get their shit together because I'm almost at my wits end.
“Sweetness, I'm all out of clean clothes.” That's the first thing Jake says to me when I walk into the house. Not the greatest greeting after a long workday.
“Yeah, me too,” Drake adds.
Seriously? Do I look like their maid? Drake gets a pass, but Jake? I don't think so. I know he's injured, but that keeps him from the game. Not chores.
“What have you been doing all day, Jake?” I set my stuff on the counter and begin to fix supper. Jake is here all day, but apparently he can't wash his own clothes or go ahead and start supper.
“I've been bored out of my mind.”
That is not a good answer. With my back facing him, I try to stay calm as I respond. “You know, I've heard that watching the washing machine while it's on is fun. You have a hockey injury, Jake. It doesn't mean that you can't wash a load of clothes.”
When I glance at him, his shoulders slump as he sits at the table. “Yeah, I know. I'm just ready to get back to playing,” he says, picking at the table with his fingers.
That's his excuse for everything. He can't do this or that because he's ready to get back on the ice. I want him to play, I really do. That's something he loves and I love watching him. I don't want that to be taken from him. I feel bad that he's missing game time, but I can only take so much of his shit. I turn to face him, prop my hands on my hips, and let him know that I'm pissed.
“Thanks for proving my point, Jake. It's all hockey for you! If you don't have hockey, you're pitiful. So, you know what?” An idea forms and I run with it. “You're about to get a taste of what life is like in my shoes. You're about to find out what it's like to have the game run so many aspects of your life when you don't play it.”
I snatch my purse off the counter and head towards the door. He'll either finish cooking supper or it'll burn. Either way, it's his problem now.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me.
“You wouldn't normally be here tonight and our roles are reversed, so I'm leaving. I'll be back around midnight. You deal with everything.”
I slam the door on my way out. It's not until I start driving that I realize I don't know where to go. This may not have been the best plan. But you know what? I'm not sure what else to do! Nothing has really changed. Instead of talking and making things better, we've been having sex like crazy. Okay, that's mostly my fault. The sex has been making me feel better about things, so that's all on me.
Today was the last straw. I can't deal with this anymore! I want him playing just as much as he does, but I'm not behaving like a kid who got his candy taken away. Hell, if I couldn't work for a few weeks, I would be treating it as a vacation, not a prison sentence. With a deep, calming breath, I reach for my cell phone and call Helen.
“Hello?”
“Are you busy tonight?”
“No, I'm just hanging out with Sophie. What's up?”
“Can I come over? Long story, but I need to hang out somewhere for a while.”
“Yes, of course. Come on.”
“Thanks!”
I grab a bite to eat before I head to Helen's. Within seconds of knocking, she lets me in. Sophie is sitting on the couch, fascinated by Elmo.
“C'mon. Let's sit in here and we can talk.” Helen leads me into the kitchen. She fixes us a glass of wine and then asks me what happened.
With my forehead resting in my hand and my eyes closed, I quietly tell her, “I don't even know if we're going to make it to July.” As soon as it's out of my mouth, I realize how much I believe it. I just don't know anymore. We're planning a wedding and it feels like we're ripping our relationship to shreds.
“What in the world happened? I'm sure you will last a lifetime. You're Emily and Jake. It's been that way long before I met you and it will take a lot for that to change.”
“Maybe that's the problem. It's always been Jake and me. Maybe we weren't meant to last longer than what we already have. Helen, he has been doing nothing but complaining for the past week about not being able to play right now. I feel bad for him, I do, but it's getting harder and harder to do that. He's only proven to me that he isn't happy with Drake and me. He can't be happy with us alone. He needs hockey.
“I don't know if I can be with this person he's become. He's not the same anymore. I barely recognize him and all this over a simply injury. What happens if he gets hurt even worse next time and he can't play at all? Or what happens when he retires? Jake craves the game more than anything else. He always has. I'm never going to be good enough to make him happy if he doesn't have hockey.
“Anyway, when he complained today, I snapped and told him he was going to see what it was like to be me. We are going to switch roles and it starts tonight. I grabbed my purse, told him I would be back around midnight, and I left. I figure for the rest of the week, he can do everything I usually do and I'll do what he usually does, which is why I'm not home right now.”
Helen glances into the living room where Sophie is before she focuses back on me. “Emily, you know that I love you and I know that you've been through a tough few months with Jake. But you can't even think about throwing six years away like that.”
“I'm not,” I interrupt. “I don't want to do that at all. I just don't know if trying will make a difference in the end. He's not happy,” I finish softly. Despair fills me quickly. It hits me hard, scaring me that my words are true.
“Then make him realize why he should be happy.”
“I shouldn't have to convince him, Helen,” I interrupt again before she can say anything else. “I don't want to talk about it anymore. Can I come over a couple nights this week? Maybe stay over one night?”
“Of course.”