I can barely see the ice from where I’m standing, but I need to see him.
My seat was fairly high up, making the task of getting down to the ice before the crowd took over an impossible feat. Standing stranded in the middle of a mass of fans, confetti shoots from the ceiling, startling me. It’s then, stuck at a standstill twenty rows up, that I give in, realizing that I’m not going to make it down there for their celebration.
But I need to see him.
Slipping into the nearest row, I climb onto one of the folding seats to give myself a better view of the ice.
Maddison pulls Zanders off the pile of players lying on the ground to hug him, and my chest swells. Everything Zanders has dreamed of achieving is culminating in this one moment, and I couldn’t be more proud of him if I wanted to.
That is until I see a man who is almost as tall walk onto the ice. Hair just as tightly faded and skin a bit deeper than Zanders’, wearing his son’s jersey with their last name across the back.
I’ve never seen his picture, but I know that’s Zanders’ dad, and witnessing him here, the two of them hugging, fills me with an overflow of emotions.
On the one hand, I’m so thankful that they have each other in a moment they’ll both remember for the rest of their lives.
And on the other hand, a spark of hope ignites within me that if Zanders can allow his dad to love him again, maybe one day, he’ll be able to believe that I do too.
Ella attacks him by the knees, and the smile on Zanders’ face lights up my entire body, but I’m finding it exceptionally hard to breathe since my chest is filled with so much pride.
Watching Zanders with the most essential people in his life reminds me how much he needs to stay in Chicago. He needs to re-sign here with Maddison and his family. This is where he belongs.
Of course, it still hurts knowing he doesn’t believe that I love him, but the past few days since I talked to him last, I’ve questioned if maybe I can look past that. Zanders reached out to his dad. He cut off his mom and agent. He’s clearly working on repairing the damage that brought him to the point of not accepting another person’s love. Maybe that’s good enough. Perhaps progress in that direction could be enough for me.
While we were together, Zanders treated me like he loved me, which was all I needed. I can only hope that when he looks back, he realizes I truly have loved him all along.
I want nothing more than to be on the ice right now, to celebrate him, to make sure he knows I’m here, but things are so up in the air with us that it’s not the right time to figure it out. This moment isn’t about me, and I want him to enjoy this win with his teammates and family. He deserves every second of recognition.
But one way or another, I’m going to see him tonight.
“Miss Shay. It’s so good to see you again.” Zanders’ doorman opens the main entrance to the lobby for me.
“You too.” I point towards the elevator. “Is it okay if I go up?”
“Of course. You’re always on the list. Mr. Zanders isn’t back quite yet, though.”
“That’s okay. I’ll wait for him up there.”
I have a key to Zanders’ place, but instead of using it, I take a seat on the floor in the private hall outside his elevator leading to his door. Things are too unsettled between us for me to be waiting inside, but I need him to know I was at the game, and I need him to know how proud I am.
And not just because of hockey. Actually, not because of hockey at all, but because I can see how much work he’s doing in other parts of his life, and he deserves to know I recognize it.
The minutes tick on as I wait for him, and any slight sound has my attention darting towards the elevator, hoping for him, but he never comes.
The post-game ceremony and celebrations take time, but it’s going on one in the morning. I assumed he’d be back by now.
I call him. It goes straight to voicemail.
I text. It remains unanswered.
It’s not that we need to talk and figure things out tonight, but he deserves to know I was at the game, supporting him as I always will. On the biggest day of his life, I don’t want him to question whether or not I was there for him.
The floor becomes unbearably uncomfortable around two AM, so after one more unanswered phone call, I finally give in and head back to my own place for sleep.
I’ll have to see and congratulate him another day.
54
ZANDERS
“This is the most hungover I’ve ever been.”
“No,” Maddison disagrees. “This is the most hungover I’ve ever been.”
Logan silently laughs to herself as she parks in the players’ lot of the United Center, and I could not be happier that the car finally stopped moving. I’ve been focusing on not throwing up all morning. The car ride didn’t help.
“You two need to get your shit together.” Logan reaches into the back seat, handing me a black coffee before she does the same to her equally struggling husband sitting on the passenger side. “Take some ibuprofen, chug some caffeine, and put on your best Captain and Alternate Captain smiles. The whole country is about to see you two on TV.”
Swallowing down a joke about her being our mom after too many nights out, I throw back the painkiller with a swig of coffee.
Last night was insane, in the best way possible.
I slapped a kiss on the Stanley Cup, held it over my head, then took a champagne shower in the locker room. The boys all went back to Rio’s, where the celebration continued until the early hours of the morning. We didn’t sleep much if any, and we left his place looking like a frat house the day after a kegger. It was one of the best nights of my life.
The only thing missing was Stevie, but I took Logan’s advice and lived it up with my teammates for one last time.
The effect of chugging endless bubbles is catching up in the form of nausea and a splitting headache, but I need to pull it together for our champion’s parade. Not only will all of downtown Chicago see us as we drive by, but media outlets will be airing it throughout North America, so I’m hoping the hype from the crowded Chicago streets is enough to cure my hangover.
Thankfully, Logan stopped by my apartment and brought me some fresh clothes this morning after picking up Rosie from her dog-sitter so she could join in on the festivities.
The parking lot is littered with double-decker buses to ride during the parade. Families and friends overtake the outdoor area, wearing their players’ jerseys, but the boys from the team stick out like sore thumbs. Each and every one of us is showcasing the effects of last night’s celebration.
But regardless of how shitty I feel, I’m going to take it in. We just won the Stanley Cup, and it’s time for the city to celebrate as a whole.