Chapter 28: The Breaking Point

The final horn sounded, but I barely heard it; I felt numb.

We had another loss tonight, making it the forth in a row. The scoreboard glowed red with numbers I wasn’t interested in seeing. The other team celebrated at center ice with their fans cheering wildly while our bench was silent.

I sat still on the bench for a long time, watching my teammates file off with their heads bowed and their shoulders slumped. This was the kind of defeat that didn’t go away after a good night’s rest; it was the type that seeped into your bones and stayed with you.

He was the last person I saw.

Cassian skated off with his head down, not looking up to see anyone, he didn’t even acknowledge the fans calling his name. His stick dragged behind him like he’d forgotten he was holding it. When he reached the tunnel, he rested his head on the wall there for a while before sighing and skating off.

I stood and followed.

The locker room was as quiet as a tomb when I got in.

Equipment was thrown and sticks clattered about, someone kicked a garbage can in anger and its content spilled out. Danton stormed in angrily talking about lack of teamwork and effort before storming off again, but I didn’t hear any of it.

My eyes were on Cassian.

He sat still in his stall, not bothering to take off his gear, his head was down with his shoulders curved forward, sweat dripped off his head to the floor, but he didn’t bother grabbing a towel to wipe his face, he just sat there; motionless.

Around him, players stripped off equipment, some shouting and blaming each other for the loss, expressing their anger loudly.

He still didn’t move.

Danton walked in again for another round of shouting, then he slammed his clipboard and stormed off again. Some players moved towards the showers, some towards the exit and after a while, the noise faded and the voices dropped as the guys left.

I stayed in my stall, waiting patiently.

I looked over towards Cassian’s stall, he still didn’t move.

I should leave or give him space, I should let him sit in the silence the way I’d done lots of times after a bad game, but I couldn’t walk out and leave him here all alone like that.

I crossed the room and sat beside him.

The stall was small, so our shoulders brushed. I could feel the heat and the sadness emitting from him. I could smell him; he smelled like sweat and his usual cologne.

“Hey.”

“I want to be alone.” His said with a cracked voice.

“I’m not leaving you like this.”

“I’m serious.” He said, his hands balling into fists. “I can’t—“ his voice cracked again. “I can’t do this, the hiding, the pretending, the losses, it’s too much for me to handle.”

My heart sank.

“Then don’t.”

He looked up at me with red rimmed eyes; he looked like he’d aged five years in four games. Like he was falling apart and didn’t know how to stop.

“I shouldn’t what?”

“Don’t pretend.” I said in a low tone. “At least not with me, I’m not going anywhere; I’m here to stay.”

A tear slid down his cheek and he didn’t make any move to wipe it off.

“But the team—“

“Will survive.” I finished, reaching out to briefly touch his knee. The heat of him seeped through his gear through my hands. “We’ll figure it out.”

He stared at me as his jaw trembled.

“We’re in this together, don’t forget that.” I said, squeezing his knee.

He swallowed and nodded, the movement making another tear fall.

We sat there in the empty locker room. The heavy air lifted replaced with something light and comforting.

His hand mobed to cover mine on his knee. His fingers were cold but it didn’t bother me. I turned my palm up to interlace our fingers.

“I miss you.” He said sadly. “It’s crazy, you’re close to me but I miss you.”

My heart squeezed.

“I’m here, always.”

“You’re here but not here at the same time. You’re always across the room, always sitting at the opposite end of the bench. Your apartment is not far from mine but I still can’t come around because of prying eyes.” He paused, inhaling deeply. “Every time I look at you, you’re always looking away; and even when I’m lucky enough for our eyes to meet, it’s never enough. It’s like you’re a ghost I dreamed up.”

I pulled his hand up to my chest, pressing it against my heart.

“I’m not a ghost, I’m here.”

His fingers spread wide as he felt my heartbeat under his palm.

“You’re not a ghost? Why then does it feel like you are.”

I cupped his face.

“Because I’m scared.” The words tumbled out, raw. “I’ve spent my whole life building up walls to keep people away, and you tore them down. Now I don’t know how to do this without being terrified. Every time I look at you, I forget why I’m supposed to be careful, and that scares me a lot.”

He leaned into my touch.

“I’m scared we’re never going to stop hiding and that we’re going to lose each other before we ever become real.” He looked at me. “I’m scared of losing you.”

I pulled him closer till our foreheads were pressed against each other.

“You’re not going to lose me, not now, not ever.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I held his gaze. “Whatever comes next, whatever happens; I’m here, I’m not running or leaving.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“Is that a promise?”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I promise.”

We stayed like that for a while, with our hands clasped and our breathing in sync.

The lights above us hummed, the ventilation system clicked on and somewhere down the hall, a door opened and closed. The world around us moved but we kept still.

Cassian pulled back first to look at me.

“Are we going to be okay?” He asked.

I looked at him, my brave handsome Cassian.

“We’re going to be okay.” I said in a reassuring tone.

He sniffed. “Are you sure?”

I reached for his hand again.

“I’m sure.”

He let out a breath as he squeezed my fingers.

“I’m glad you stayed back with me, Tor.”

I looked at him and smiled.

“I’m glad about that too.”