He sat. His eyes turned down in despair. The doctor started his exam. He shook his head and said to Brett, “I’m not comfortable letting you go back out there.”
Brett leaned forward aggressively. “But you aren’t uncomfortable, either.”
The doctor looked at Ryan. Ryan looked at me. I battled with knowing what Brett should do and what heneededto do. He would hate me forever if I agreed with the doctor. But he wouldn’t be the man I loved if he couldn’t finish the game. No matter the outcome.
I stepped forward. To Ryan I asked, “Do you give me permission to examine him?”
The doctor turned to Ryan. Ryan nodded.
“Can you guys give me a minute with him?” I asked.
One of the trainers shook his head. Another’s eyebrows flicked high up his forehead.
Ryan eyed me contemplatively and then jerked his head towards the door. Everyone cleared the room.
When we were alone, I stepped towards Brett and he spread his knees apart. Situating myself between his legs, I rubbed my hands over his sweaty head, moving his hair off his forehead. I murmured, “You shouldn’t go back out there.”
“I-”
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his.
When I pulled back, he continued. “I have to finish, Elizabeth. This is it for me. I’ve been traded twice and I don’t have anything left.” His voice cracked. “I want to be finished, but not like this. Not on an injury. If we lose, we lose, but not like this.”
Tears welled in my eyes.
I stepped back. Shaking my head to clear it of bias, I looked around the room for a penlight. I found one in a drawer. Then I stepped back to him and said, “Look at me.” I shone the light back and forth across his eyes.
“Good. Any ringing in your ears?”
“No.”
“Stand up for me.” He stood, towering over me in his skates. I had to step back to see him better. “Put your arms out to the side and close your eyes.” He did as I asked and I watched him for any imbalances. “Good. Sit back down.”
He sat like a little boy being punished. I stood in front of him. “Can you repeat these words after me? I. Love. You.”
“I love you.” He grinned.
The television in the locker room erupted with a score from the Bruins. Brett flinched and cursed.
I continued. “And I would never do anything to compromise my health or my future by doing something dumb like pretending I didn’t have a concussion.”
“Elizabeth…” he begged.
“Say it.”
“I don’t have a concussion. I feel fine. I wouldn’t lie to you. Tell them to let me back out there.”
I weighed the risks for another long moment. Then I nodded.
He jumped to his feet and almost ran to the door. When he got to the door, he turned and said, “Next time I’m that close to you, you’d better be naked.”
With a laugh, I said, “Go get the Cup.”
He was out the door in a flash. Ryan came back in. “You let him go?”
“I know it wasn’t my place, but he’s fine.”
“And if he isn’t?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.”