Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Gage rubs his hand over his jaw. “Man, I don’t care what you did. We all make mistakes, and it’s obvious you’re truly remorseful. To me, that’s the most important thing. You took responsibility, and you were going to try to make it right. The only thing that stopped you was when fucking fate intervened.”
“Fuck fate,” I mutter.
“Fuck fate is right,” he agrees emphatically. “But Kyle died without the burden of knowing you did something wrong. I have no clue what it would have done to him. He died without it on his shoulders, and you cannot fucking feel guilty about that. Maybe fate did him a favor in the end.”
I blink in surprise before letting my gaze go back to my meditative space—the trees. That had never even crossed my mind, just as it had never crossed my mind to withhold the truth. I’d even agreed with Darcy that it would be best to tell him after the game so I wouldn’t fuck up his play.
“I do know something, though.” My attention swings back to Gage. “Kyle would have forgiven you.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can. I knew Kyle. When you’re in the league as long as I’ve been, you get to know a lot of people. He was a straight shooter. He was principled. He would have respected that you were man enough to admit you’d done wrong. I also know you, as much as anyone can, and you don’t have a malicious bone in your body. Whatever you did, it wasn’t done with the intention of hurting him. I’d stake my life on that.”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t want to hurt him.”
“Look… I get it. You’ve got the guilt of surviving and the guilt of wronging someone. Those things may never go away completely, but when you hole yourself up, remove yourself from everyone, and build a wall so high nothing can breach it, that guilt has nowhere to go. It’s trapped inside with you, and you’ve got to let that shit out before it destroys everything.”
I stay quiet, but I do process his words. He’s given me a lot to think about.
“One more piece of wisdom, and then we need to talk about why I’m really here. I’m going to suggest that you’ve already started knocking down some of those walls because you let Tilden into your circle. She’s the first person you’ve allowed in since the crash. That means you want out of your prison.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he talks right over me. “You don’t want to be this way, Coen. No one would want to be this way. My advice to you is to take the opening that’s been created with Tilden and run with it. You don’t have to be anything more than fuck buddies, if that’s all you want, but you can start with the buddy part. You can try to be her friend.”
Could I? It means I’d have to commit to trying, and I haven’t wanted to try anything in so long, I don’t know if I have the drive.
I push it out of my head because with the beer making it swim, I’m not in a frame of mind to change the course of my life right now. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I’m not coming back next season,” Gage says, and I almost choke on my sip of ale.
“What?”
“When I came to the Titans, I wanted to help the team. I wanted to lend my wisdom and skills. I liked Brienne Norcross a lot and respected what she was trying to do. But I’ve got nothing left to prove, and the team is going to be just fine without me on the ice.”
Those last words… without me on the ice. “That implies you’re not leaving.”
Gage smiles. “Yeah… they offered me an assistant coaching position. Bill Perry wanted the head coach position, but they offered it to Cannon West, and Bill wasn’t happy about it, so he’s leaving.”
“Whoa. Cannon’s a good choice.”
“I agree. The team will be in good hands with him.”
“You’ll make a great coach. The men respect you.”
Gage smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t respect me.”
“I did, but I was too big of an asshole to tell you.”
Gage bursts into a laugh. Holding his beer out, we clink bottles again. “I’ll drink to that.”
We both sip, and I feel good. This has been a good conversation, and he’s given me a lot to consider.
“You need to come back,” Gage says, and my body locks up tight with dread at those five little words.
“I can’t.”
“You can. You need to. You owe it to that team to come back and help them. They need someone to lead.”
“I’m no leader,” I insist.
“You are. You could be if you got your head out of your ass. If you came back, after everything you’ve been through, it would go beyond inspiration. It could be the fuel this team needs to get back to the top of their game.”