Page 51 of The Other Side of Wild
“Listen,” He says, his tone firm but kind, “I know hockey is how you regulate yourself. Physical activity has always been an outlet for you. Go take a walk, and if that’s too easy, go walk in the sand. If that still doesn’t do it, go farther. The sun is good for your mental state anyway. Just move, Greyson. Keeping yourself locked in your house isn’t doing you any favors. Get yourself around people, whether it's one person or your entire team. I don’t care. But if you want to pull yourself out of this, you’re going to have to put in the work. I know that sounds harsh and unappealing, but you and I both know doing the hard stuff is the only way to get out of this.”
He isn’t telling me anything new, but it feels like I’m hearing it for the first time. I’ve been waiting for motivation to magically appear, for the heaviness in my chest to disappear on its own accord. But that’s not how it works, it never has.
“Fix things with your family first,” he continues, “then go after the girl. Your family will love you through everything; she isn’t obligated to do the same. Remember that before you do anything.”
A sinking feeling sits in my gut. I know she isn’t stuck with me the way my family is, but dang, I want her to choose to stay, to fight for me like I desperately want to fight for her. But I have to show her that for her to believe it, now don’t I? A flicker of determination ignites, small and steady.
I nod as he tells me our time is up for the day; I schedule another appointment for next Monday before walking out. I feel like I have a sense of direction. Like I gained clarity I didn’t realize I’d been missing.
Sometimes, I really am my own worst enemy; one thought will slip into another and another, and eventually, I’ve spiraled. Trying to untangle it is exhausting; it’s easier to just sleep half the time, thus starting the cycle all over and never really making progress. But today, I’m done with that.
This is my line in the sand; I need to pull myself together. Not just for Hannah but for my family, my team, and myself, too. Getting into my car, I head to Beautiful Pour to grab some coffee and some treats for Harley girl.
My keys jingle as I step out of the elevator. I stop short at the sight of the crowd of people leaning against the wall next to my door. “Mighty fine weather we’re having today, huh Wilder?” Reed drawls from where he’s leaning, arms crossed over his chest, ankles crossed with a backward ball cap on. One eyebrow drawn up high as I walk towards them.
My palms were suddenly sweaty; I wasn’t ready to talk to all of them yet. As I get closer, I see Abby in the middle of the protective wall they’ve created. “Hey, Abby.” I unlock the door, holding it open for them to come in.
“Wilder.” I searched her face for anything that would tell me how Hannah was feeling or how she was doing. But I find nothing, my heart plummeting to my feet. Remember what Dr. Williams said: I need to be able to put in the work. Guess I’ll have a practice run. I haven’t seen these guys since Washington. They deserve an apology, too. I haven’t been a very good teammate.
The door shuts behind us, and Harley is on her back, soaking in the belly rubs she’s currently getting. Abby, however, is standing to the side, her eyes trained on me. “How is she?” I can’t stop myself from asking; I need to know.
“She’s better than I’ve seen her in a long time. Going back home was a good move. I think it healed a part of her that she didn’t know needed healing.”
Heart, meet blender. My eyes immediately find a spot on the floor, looking for something to focus on, but it’s too late and the world around me starts to blur. One white spot here, one there, then another. My breathing picks up, each breath shallow, yet I feel like I’m not getting enough oxygen.
A hand lands on my shoulder as Abby’s face comes into view. It’s blurry, but it’s there. She’s bent down in front of me; her other hand finds my cheek, and my vision clears. “She misses you, Wilder.” Her words offer me a lifeline, pulling me back to reality.
A broken sob catches in my throat, and I’m pulled into a hug by the roommate of the woman I’m in love with. Holy shit. I love her. I freaking love that woman. In seconds, I’m surrounded on every side; the silence sits heavy, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Just laced with anticipation of things that need to be said.
Clearing my throat, I straightened up, and we all broke apart. Their faces hold something I haven’t seen in a long time, faith inme.“I need to apologize to all of you. I let you down; I should have been there. At the carnival, at practices, at games. I’ve been a coward, hiding out here feeling sorry for myself. I haven’t been a good friend or a teammate. I’m so sorry.”
Five sets of eyes stare back at me, but it’s Monroe's that breaks first. “Bring it in, brother.” He grabs my good shoulder and pulls me back in for a bro hug. Dang it, I hate how broken I feel at the moment. I hate how small I feel and how undeserving I am of their support after the way I’ve basically shunned all of them.
“How are you, really?” Andrews says as he sits on one of the barstools at the island. “None of the fluff, give it to us straight.” They all look at me in eager expectation; Wilson hangs back, leaning against the wall but still focused on me.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair, stopping on my neck to give it a rough squeeze, anchoring me to the moment. “Physically, I’m alright; mentally, I’m...” I trail off, staring at the floor when I notice something out of place. Boots? Cowboy boots. My head shoots up and I’m met with Reed’s smug expression. “What in the world is on your feet?”
Their laughter pulls at a thread in my chest, loosening a bit of the tightness that’s been hanging on in there. His lips pursed as his head tilted to the side. He looks down at his feet, then back up at me with dramatically raised eyebrows. “They’re boots, obviously.”
“Obviously,” My eyes roll so hard into the back of my head that one actually twitches. “But why?”
He shrugs, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Hannah took us line dancing; it was fun. I think I make a pretty good-looking cowboy if I say so myself.”
My jaw hit the floor; I knew they had gone out because I had video evidence of it. I didn’t know they danced too.“You guys danced?” They wear a collective smirk like a badge of honor.
“She said it gave the ‘rhythm-deprived people’ a chance to dance,” Wilson adds from his spot on the wall. He shrugs, “She’s a good teacher; we were basically pros by the end of the night.”
The flame of jealousy snakes up my chest. That’s twice now he’s gotten to do something with her that she should have been doing with me. Abby clearly catches on to my souring mood.
"Relax, Wilder. We both taught them, and yeah, we had a good time. But it was nice to see her let loose. She needed a place where she could simply be herself. I’ve known her for eight years, I’ve never seen her that relaxed and carefree; it's like she was a completely different person.”
That hurts. My chest burns, but Andrews pipes up. “There’s a country bar in town,” He leans against the kitchen island, “we looked it up on the drive back last night.”
My head tilts to the side as I try to piece together why that matters. “Okay?...”
He grins, “We can teach you what the girls taught us, maybe take her there on a date. It’s clear she likes it. Putting in the effort to learn might go a long way.” Abby smiles like Dr. Evil, eyebrows wiggling at the thought.
“I like it. I like it a lot.” She steeples her hands in front of her face, her pointer fingers tapping against each other.