The Tales of a Future Hockey Wife

Chapter 40: The "Last" Unresolved Issue

~Ben~

I wake up with an extremely sore neck. That's what you get from sleeping seated on a couch, I guess. I move a little to realize that my whole-body hurts. My shoulders are tensed as if I had benched 150 pounds yesterday, my back is full of knots even the team's physiotherapist won't be able to undo, and I can't feel my left hand. Great night, Ben, it's a good thing you aren't playing today. Plus, I had a weird dream about a girl faking to be my long-lost cousin from Florida to steal my mother's money. There is so much that is wrong with this dream I don't know where to begin. Too much Gossip Girl probably. Speaking of girl, mine is still asleep, her head on my shoulder. I always enjoyed watching her sleep like this. There is no moment where she is more peaceful than when she is asleep. The usual "v" between her brows is gone, and the frown she has been wearing on her lips is replaced by a simple straight line. I know I am the reason behind this frown. So much went wrong in the last few weeks, it's crazy to even think about it. I never thought we could get so complicated. Our relationship was always on the easy side. Until this year, we had only had minor fights and arguments, but now, it seems that we are arguing about anything and everything. I hate it. Eleanor always has been the calm I needed in the turmoil that is my life. She was my anchor into the real world. She thinks that my anchor tattoo represents our hometown, and it does, but it's also for her. She is everything for me. She has been since the day we met. I know I haven't been acting that way, I have just been so caught up in setting my future that I forgot about what was going on in my life at the moment.

I look at her face, and wonder what she is dreaming about. I hope it's a nice dream filled with happy moments. She has enough things to worry about when she's awake, I hope she can at least escape them in her dreams. I caress her hair with the tip of my fingers, pulling them from her face. She scrunches up her nose, making me laugh. I pull myself slowly from under her to start breakfast. I can't remember the last time I did this for her. I am always gone in the morning, practices oblige. Looking around our small kitchen, I sigh at how pitiful it looks. I wanted so much more for us, for her. Every time I want to do something nice like take her out to a nice restaurant, the status of my bank account stops me, and I hate it. At first, I got into hockey because I loved the game, but I continued for the promised big paycheck if you get far enough. Nobody told me it would take me over fifteen years before reaching my goal, and that's if I reach it. Nothing is more uncertain with my injury. I'll drop even more in the rankings if I don't play for a long time, and I'll miss many games recruiters who will attend.

My uncertain future stresses me even more ever since we learned about El's pregnancy. We still haven't discussed it, we will probably do that later today, but if we decide to keep it, choices will have to be made. We struggle financially with just the two of us, and I know that babies are expensive. Just the thought stresses me out.

I decide on eggs for breakfast since they are filled with protein and good fat. We both need to eat well now. Poached? Scrambled? Sunny-side-up? Over easy? I decide against poached eggs, remembering the small argument we had over them the last time she caught me making some. There wasn't much to that story though. A couple of guys from the team and I went out for breakfast after a practice and there were a few girls who recognized us. They asked if they could eat with us, we said yes, and one of them was seating beside me. She only swore by poached eggs, and when I asked what the big deal was, she begged me to try one. Turns out it wasn't bad. I kinda liked it actually. I wanted to try it at home, and since I thought it wasn't that hard to do after she gave me her recipe, I made some the next day. I never saw the girl again, and I don't plan to either. She was pretty, yes, but she could never outdo Ella. No one could.

Scrambled it is then. I always mess up eggs over easy and I don't like sunny-side-up eggs. The gooey uncooked egg white grosses me out. I start heating the pan while I break the eggs in a bowl. How many do I need? Is four enough for the both of us? I put one more just in case. Toasts now. Two for me and two for her should be enough. Only problem is that we only have a two-slice toaster, so I'll have to synchronize my toasts with my eggs.

Which turns out to be more difficult than I thought. My eggs are ready way too quickly. The first set of toasts isn't even ready yet. I am definitely an awful cook. I put the pan of eggs off of the running burner, but I am now afraid that they'll be cold when the toasts are ready. When the toasts are finally ready, I place them in plates, running to the pan burning my hand at the same time on the handle that was right over the still on burner. I let out a curse, shaking my hand to get rid of the burning feeling. I hear a chuckle from behind me, making me turn around immediately only to see Eleanor's smiley face staring right at me.

"You okay?" she says still smiling. I shake my head. It really fucking hurts. She walks towards me, grabbing my aching hand in hers. Even that small and simple contact sends chills down my spine. When was the last time she touched me like that? I think it was at the hospital, but I am not sure. She walks me to the sink, putting my hand under the running faucet cold water hitting my already red skin. The cold soothes out some of the pain, making it bearable.

"The eggs were for me?" I nod, looking straight at her. She nods too, her eyes focused on my hand that she takes out from under the water. I immediately miss the feeling of her skin on mine. I want to touch her again, but I don't want to push my luck.

Turns out, I really can't cook. Even simple scrambled eggs are out of my reach. As I thought, they were cold and so were the toasts, but she didn't complain. We both knew I had failed at my breakfast attempt, but she ate her entire plate.

"How come yours are better than this? What do you do different?" I asked when we were both done. She was already up, ready to clean up after me once again, when she leaned closer to me to whisper in my ear. Her breath leaving goosebumps on my skin.

"I put cheese in them." She has a cheeky smile when I have a chance to look at her again. Cheese, I should have known.

"Ella," I say, my voice filled with anxiousness. She turns towards me, a small smile on her face that falls the second she sees my face.

"We need to talk about it."

"I know," she says, sounding resigned. I never thought it was going to be that easy to convince her. We have been avoiding the subject since I came back. I am dreading this conversation as much as she is, but not knowing what is going on in her mind stresses me even more.

She sits back at her place around the small kitchen table. We are facing each other again, waiting for one of us to break the silence. She opens her mouth, but closes it seconds later. I give her time to gather her thoughts. She sits up straighter, interlocks her fingers, and looks at me straight in the eyes. So formal.

"I am keeping this baby. With you or without you. There's no way I am getting an abortion." I nod. I kind of expected this answer from her. Deep down, I knew that's what she was going to say. I am not surprised, but it doesn't mean that I am not shocked. I am having a baby, it's official now. There is no way in hell I am letting her do this by herself. That's my baby too. It scares the living shit out of me, but I'll do it.

"What made you make up your mind?" I still want to understand how she made that decision.

"I had a dream. I was holding a baby and it looked exactly like you. It had your eyes, your hair, and even your dimples. I knew when I woke up that I could never let this baby go." I can see the tears forming in her eyes as she speaks. I can see her dream in my mind. I can clearly see her holding a baby. Why is that image so clear? I never saw Eleanor with a baby before.

"I'm in, El. I'm all the way in."