and you know it.” I inhale, then let it out slowly as I try to reason with her. “You know there are some things I just can’t decline. It’s part of my job. And I get I made some bad choices where I did put hockey before you. I also screwed some things up with Lucy by not having my priorities right. But this is different—it’s mandatory and necessary for my job. It’s not like I’m choosing to play extra hockey with my buds. I’m required to go in.”
Ella steps toward me, head tipped back and hands on her hips. Eyes flashing with a fury I think has gotten beyond her control, she says, “Well, maybe it’s your career as a whole I can’t handle. Maybe I’m tired of you being gone, missing important events, and having to disappoint me because your job demands it.”
“You’ve accepted it for years,” I remind her, keeping my voice level.
“Are you sure I accepted it?” she taunts, and that gives me pause. Has she been living a lie this whole time, unhappy in our marriage because of my job itself?
I shake my head, not even able to consider that right now. “Ella, there are plenty of jobs that require parents and spouses to be away from their loved ones. Military personnel leave for months at a time. ER physicians work Christmas days, and they can’t watch their kids open presents.”
Ella’s mouth parts slightly, and she lifts her arms in exaggerated surprise. “Well, that makes everything better.” She then crowds in on me, and the anger in her voice slices deep. “Except you aren’t protecting our country and saving lives, Jim. You’re skating on a sheet of ice chasing a piece of plastic, for fuck’s sake.”
And, now I’m angry. “My job might not be as important as soldiers and doctors, but it’s done a great job of providing a good life, funding our retirement, and ensuring Lucy can go to any school in the world she wants.”
Ella’s lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming. “Why, thank you, Jim,” she snarls sarcastically. “I’ll just go withdraw big piles of cash from the bank and when I’m lonely at night, I’ll cuddle with it in bed.”
“Cheap shot, Ella,” I retort.
“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, Steele?” she sneers, using the name that most in the hockey world refer to me as.
Ella averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.
“What do you want to do about us?” I demand because I think this is all boiling down to her inability to see past the harms I’ve caused in the past, and loading them up on this one responsibility that I have and cannot shirk.
“I don’t know,” she says softly. “I just don’t know.”
She turns her back on me, and it’s clear she’s disconnected from the conversation.
With a sigh, I move to the door. Before I open it, though, I turn back and say, “I cannot decline Coach’s request to come in, Ella. I have to do it. But if my hockey career truly causes you so much unhappiness—”
Ella spins. “Then it’s best we just go our separate ways?”
“No,” I say softly, shaking my head sadly. “I’ll give it up. I’ll quit as soon as they can find a suitable replacement. Or I’ll retire at the end of the season if that’s acceptable. I’ll choose you.”
Ella’s expression becomes alarmed, and she opens her mouth.
I cut her off, holding my hand up. “I’m sorry I have to cancel. Think about what you want me to do for our future, but, for now, I have to go.”
I spin on my heel and walk out the door, afraid to even glance back at Ella. If she were to show the slightest bit of emotion or tears, I might be tempted to call Coach and tell him I can’t make it.
But I also realize I’m doing the right thing for my team. In this one instance, I have to ask Ella to take a backseat. I can only hope at some point, she’ll realize that, too.
Regardless, I won’t let her sit on any indecision. She’ll either accept my career and the times I’ll have to be called away, with my assurances she’ll always be my first choice in all other