Alexei (Chicago Blaze 5)

“That’s the one we need,” I tell Graysen, pointing to a big brick auditorium.

We climb the stairs and I open the door for her. After walking through the lobby, we get to the auditorium, making our way to the seats reserved for us in the front.

“I hardly had a chance to ask how your day was,” Graysen says as soon as we’re seated.

I kiss her and say, “It’s been a good day. We had an easy practice and I don’t have to go back and work out until the day after Christmas.”

She gives me a skeptical look. “I’ve never known you to miss that many days in the gym.”

“It’ll be fine; I’ll hit it hard when I go back.”

She gives me a panicked look. “Did the presents we bought Ree and Ella get delivered?”

“Yep, this afternoon.” I shake my head. “Anton and Mia are gonna need a second playroom.”

“And we have enough wrapping paper, right?” She draws her brows together, a little worry line forming between them.

“More than enough, babe. We’re good.”

She exhales and nods. This will be Graysen’s first Christmas with my family. She usually spends it with Amelia’s family, but now, she’ll be with me, Anton, Mia, the girls, and Martin and Laura. She’s worried about everything—whether the potatoes she’s making will be good, whether we have enough wrapping paper, whether stores will be open if we forgot anything.

“Were we supposed to get stocking stuffers for the girls?” she asks, turning to me with widened eyes.

“No, that’s Anton and Mia’s job.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

I hate that Graysen’s parents never gave her a good Christmas when she was a kid. If I ever meet those two, I’m planning to tell them what pathetic excuses for humans they are.

Since this is our first official Christmas together, and I have a lot of Christmases to make up for, I got Graysen an excessive amount of gifts. As in…thirty-seven. Mia helped me pick out most of them. When we wake up at my place Christmas morning, Graysen will be opening sweaters, jewelry, scarves, books, hoodies, a new phone, sunglasses and…a kitten.

The sunglasses are for the trip to Tahiti I’m taking her on during the next offseason. The tickets to our resort will be the next to last gift she opens, and the gray kitten will be the final one. I already named him Biscuit. Easy’s keeping him for me until Christmas Eve, and I think he’s becoming a cat guy.

I may have gone overboard, but she deserves to be spoiled.

The auditorium quickly fills up, the crowd a mix of students and people who came to campus just to see the presentation. When the lights go down, Graysen reaches for my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back and keep my hold on her hand.

A professor comes out to the lectern first, introducing the speaker, who walks out looking poised and polished. She sets her notes on the lectern, smiles and says, “Good evening. My name is Melinda, and I’m a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, aunt and friend. I’m also an alcoholic.”

The crowd claps for her, and I feel a sense of pride welling in my chest. Melinda and I talk regularly, and Graysen and I have had dinner with her and Jack several times over the past year. They even brought their family to a Blaze game, Jack refusing my offer of a comped suite, paying for one himself instead.

The past year hasn’t been easy for Melinda. She faces judgment everywhere she goes and the guilt never completely goes away.

“It’s been a year since the last time I seriously considered killing myself,” she tells the crowd. “I couldn’t get out of the deep depression I was in from killing a man while driving drunk.”

Some of the audience members gasp and Melinda pauses her speech, expecting the reaction.

“It’s also been a year since I took my last drink,” she says. “People ask me which came first—my sobriety or turning the corner on my depression. Those two things are tied closely together. I’m here today because other people never gave up on me. My husband, Jack, our children, my former therapist Dr. Wells and my current therapist Dr. Gage.”

I look over at Graysen and I can’t believe she chose me to be her person. After long days listening to the pain her patients are carrying around, she’s often emotionally exhausted. She gets attached to them, meets their families and tries with everything she’s got to help them get and stay sober.

“I had to figure out how to stop giving up on myself,” Melinda tells the audience. “That was the hardest part of this journey for me. Self-worth seemed unattainable. How do you find that when you loathe the person looking back at you in the mirror?”

The crowd is riveted; everyone is silent as they listen to Melinda. She’s a natural public speaker, her sincerity coming through in every word she says.