Alexei

by Rothert, Brenda

  “It’s just part of the game,” Mia says. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Alexei gets in a few hits of his own, the crowd roaring its excitement over the fight. He ends up getting sent to the penalty box, where he drinks some water while waiting out a two-minute penalty.

  There are more fights between other players throughout the game and the Blaze lose 2–1.

  “That was ugly,” Mia says, the mood in the suite now a little sullen. I help her gather up all her baby things and pack them into her diaper bag.

  “Will they meet us in here when they’re all done?” I ask.

  “Yeah. The coach will talk to them, they’ll shower and then there’ll be media interviews.” She looks around the suite. “Okay, now that Dante’s girlfriend is gone, I’m gonna feed the girls. Will you hold Irina while I feed Ella?”

  “Sure.”

  She sits down and unbuttons her shirt, opening a nursing bra.

  “That bitch actually told me to put my tit away when I was breastfeeding in here during the preseason,” she says, shaking her head.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Right? I don’t know what Dante sees in her.”

  “Did you say anything back to her?”

  She shrugs. “There were kids in here, so I just waited until none of them were looking and gave her the finger.

  “Seems appropriate.”

  Lindy walks in with a big Styrofoam container, asking, “You guys want ice cream?”

  “You bet your ass,” Mia says.

  “The concession stands here have the best chocolate soft-serve you’ve ever had,” Lindy says, putting the container on the table we’re sitting at and passing us each a spoon.

  I take a bite and say, “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  The three of us talk and laugh over the ice cream, eating all of it. Mia and Lindy remind me of Amelia—they already feel like old friends.

  “Hey, how are my girls?” Anton asks as he walks into the family suite in a dark suit.

  “You missed out on two epic poops,” Mia says.

  “Good girl, Ree,” he says, taking his daughter from Lindy. “Daddy wanted you to save that for Mommy.”

  He leans over to kiss Mia, asking, “How are you, baby?”

  “Good. Tired, though.”

  “Me too.”

  Alexei walks in then, wearing a navy suit, white dress shirt, and a red tie. His damp hair and fresh, soapy smell take me back to our days at Beckett, making my heart race.

  “What’d you think?” he asks, setting his bag down and hugging me as soon as I stand up.

  “It was exciting. Lots of fun.”

  “We should’ve won,” he says, shrugging. “Gotta move on, though. You want to go out for dinner or pick something up?”

  I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to suppress a yawn. “Whatever sounds good to you.”

  He smiles. “I think we need to get some carryout and go to bed.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  We say goodbye to everyone and head for the exit that will take us to the garage his car is parked in.

  “I liked having you here,” he says, putting his arm around me.

  “I liked being here.”

  “Will you come to my next home game?”

  “If you want me to.”

  He gives me a serious look. “I want you to come to every home game I play until I retire, how about that?”

  I smile and say, “I think I’d like that.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

  “I’d expect nothing less, Alexei Petrov.”

  Epilogue

  Alexei

  Two months later

  I keep ahold of Graysen’s gloved hand as we wind our way through groups of students standing and talking on the University of Chicago campus. It’s winter break and Christmas is just a couple days away, so there’s a festive feeling in the air. A light snow is falling—just enough to powder the sidewalks.

  “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.

  “I’m here tonight because it heals my heart a tiny bit to share my story and tell you about the boy who died that night. I’d give anything to bring him back, but I can’t, so I try to help others remember him. My husband and I started a foundation in his name, and his family chooses causes he supported to donate money to. Let’s get started with the slideshow.”

  I don’t look away once during the hour and ten minutes that Melinda speaks. When she’s finished, the crowd stands to cheer for her, and she’s wiping away tears as she hugs Jack and her children. She comes over to us next, embracing Graysen and then me.

  “You were amazing, Melinda,” Graysen says. “I can’t even tell you how good it feels to see how far you’ve come.”

  “You were a big part of that,” she says, taking both of Graysen’s hands and then turning to me. “And so were you.”

  “I didn’t do much,” I say, shaking my head.

  “You know, it was more what you didn’t do that helped me the most,” she says.

  “Oh yeah?”

  She nods and puts a hand on my upper arm. “You didn’t treat me differently from anyone else. You didn’t look at me like I was a monster.”

  I’m shocked by her words. “Melinda, you’re nowhere near a monster.”

  “To some people, I am. But I accept that.”

  The professor who introduced Melinda comes over to us and asks her, “Can I steal you away? Some alumni and board members want to meet you.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she promises, turning back to me and Graysen. “Have you heard from Joe at all?”

  I shake my head. “Not since I left him in that hotel room.”

  I called Melinda after the incident with Joe, knowing she’d understand and wanting to save her from making the same mistake I did.

  “He called me the week after that,” she says. “Told me his wife had left him and he had no place to go. It broke my heart.”

  “Did you give him any money?”

  “No. I wanted to, but after what you told me…I offered to get him a bed at a homeless shelter someone at Jack’s company is on the board for. He got really angry with me and said some horrible things.”

  Graysen sighs. “I’m sorry, Melinda. It was his addiction talking.”

  Melinda nods. “I know. I hope he gets help, though.” She looks over at the professor, who’s motioning her over. “I have to go. We’re coming to another Blaze game the week after New Years, maybe we’ll get to see you for a bit?”

  “I’d love to sit with you,” Graysen says.

  “We’d love that, too.”

  “I’ve got hoodies and hats and pucks for all your grandkids,” I say. “They can get them autographed and meet some of the team members.”

  Melinda lights up. “That would be wonderful, thank you. You’re their favorite player, you know. They tell all their friends at school that their grandma is friends with a pro hockey player.”

  “Always.”

  She holds my gaze, a sense of common understanding passing between us. Melinda will always be important to me. We walked through the fire together and both came out on the other side.

  I take Graysen’s hand and we walk out of the auditorium, nearly out to the lobby when a group of college-aged guys stop me.

  “Hey, are you Alexei Petrov?” one of them asks me.

  “I am.”

  “Sweet, can we get a picture with you?”

  “Sure, man.”

  A couple of them pass their phones to Graysen, who takes a few photos of all of us.

  “Hey, is it true you got so drunk you took out a barn?” one of them asks me, looking impressed.

  “It is true, and I haven’t had a drink since that night.”

  “Wow.”

  “I was a dumbass, you guys, don’t make the same mistake.”

  “No, never,” one of them says. “We always take an Uber. I mean, we would…if we were old enough to drink…sir.”

  I laugh. “Just be safe. Have a good night, guys.”

  I put my arm around Graysen and we head for the car. “Dinner at my place?” I ask her.

  “That sounds good.” She leans in for a quick hug. “I can’t get over how amazing Melinda did back there. I love hearing people open up about mental health. It makes my therapist heart happy.”

  “I was thinking about the ripple effect of it all. Speaking out about therapy, medications, and other forms of treatment in a positive light might help others want to take the step towards overcoming their own addictions. Melinda’s tragedy is the reason she went to rehab, but sharing her story might actually prevent another tragedy.”

  “That’s…profound.”

  “It’s like the way your parents’ addictions led you to help others overcome them. From bad comes good sometimes. And I’m sure the reverse is true.”

  She looks up at me. “I never would’ve wished your struggle with addiction on you, but without it, we never would’ve met.”

  I stop walking and put my arms around her waist, pulling her in close as it starts to snow heavily.

  “I’d go through it all again if it always led me back to you,” I tell her.

  “I’d go through it all again, too, for you. My parents, the loneliness, the uncertainty…it was all worth it.”

  I kiss her then, not feeling anything but the love we have for each other, and knowing that the right person will support you through anything.

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  Thank you for reading Alexei. I hope you’re loving the Chicago Blaze series as much as I am. Are you ready for more? EASY, Erik’s story, is coming next. Click here to learn more.

  About the Author

  Brenda Rothert was a print journalist for nine years. She made the jump from fact to fiction in 2013 and never looked back. From hot hockey romance to steamy romantic suspense, Brenda creates fresh characters in every story she tells. She's a lover of Diet Coke, lazy weekends and happily ever afters.

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  To learn more about Brenda Rothert and her books, please visit brendarothert.com.

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