Monday, 18 October 2021

Butterfly Save - Mignon Mykel



 It’s been one hell of a year.


If I’m being honest, it’s been one hell of a life. 

For years my worth has been tied up in one of two things: goaltender for the San Diego Enforcers, and husband—then ex-husband—of the oldest MacTavish daughter.

Regret is a heavy thing and it’s weighing on me.

Now I’m retiring myself up to the wooded island my family called a second home growing up.

Getting away from the limelight.
Feeling closer to my roots.

I’m fully prepared to live out the rest of my life alone up here in seclusion.

And then I meet her. 
Timid. Cautious. And so damn beautiful.

I should stay away.
She doesn’t need my brand of baggage.
But damn if I can't help myself.

 
 
 
 
 





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“The least you could have done was talk it over with me,” Caleb said as I sat in his office. I’d already packed up my things when my big brother called me into his personal four-walls.
He pulled open and shoved closed drawers; what he was looking for was beyond me. It wasn’t like he had anything in this office he needed to bring home.
Besides, he would be back in a couple of weeks, anyway.
Today was locker clean-out day.
A day where the players left items for auction and brought other things home. Most of us arrived in gym clothes and even Cael, who took a liking to slacks and dress shirts since becoming head coach, was in basketball shorts and a long sleeved, Enforcers-issued tee.
“Ace knew.” Ace was our youngest sister, Avery. She was a players’ agent and was in charge of both mine and Porter’s careers.
Speaking of Porter, he managed to get in and out this morning before Caleb even noticed him.
Lucky bastard.
“Of course, Ace knew. She was in charge of your contract. But I’m your coach.”
With my hands folded on my stomach, I shrugged, pulling off the bored look. Even brought my ankle up to rest on my knee for good measure. “You’d have tried to talk me into another season and I don’t have another in me.” I bounced my toes up and down as I waited, restless energy running through me.
I wanted to get out of here.
Board a plane and sit in economy.
Land in Chicago or Milwaukee—whichever got me there quickest, and in this case, would be Chicago—hop in a long-term rental, and drive the seven or so hours north until I hit the Apostle Islands.
“It just would have been nice to know before the rest of the country.”
And that right there was his issue.
My big brother was pouting because I announced my retirement during a post-game interview last night.
It wasn’t because he was a coach left in the dark.
No.
It was because he was my brother and once upon a time, we told each other everything.
But I wasn’t that eight year old kid anymore.
 

 
 
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