Page 138 of Hockey Wife

What happened?

Were you an asshole? (Or more than usual.)

Why are you going through with it?

“She’s got her whole life in front of her. She doesn’t need me dragging her down.” They had one argument and she left, which said it all. The foundation of their marriage was flimsy, no stronger than his fucked-up shoulder. He’d tried to talk to her on the day of Jim Dixon’s funeral, but she’d obviously decided she was better off without him.

“She said that?” Foreman asked.

“She would never. She’s too nice.”

“So, this is your sparkling conclusion?” Kershaw laughed, kind of evil in tone. “Let me guess. You had just been nixed from the playoffs, and you were feeling like the world was ending, so you decided to blow up all the good things in your life to have a matching set.”

Dex patted his arm, which, given Banks’s mood, was a bold move. “But look at you now. New contract, rehabbed shoulder, and another shot at that ring. You’re ready to fight for your career, for a chance at the Cup, but not for her?”

Banks stared at Dumb and Dumber, not quite believing that these two were suddenly the Rebels sages—and even more of a shocker, were making sense?

Neither of us fought for this. That was what she’d said about the first crack at an annulment.

“I need to go.”

“Aw, he’s getting it now.” Kershaw pointed. “Go take care of business, but fair warning: if you leave, don’t expect any of this cake to be left when you get back.”

Georgia checked the bulletin board and moved a card from the right side to the left.

“You know there’s computer software that can handle this kind of thing. Like Airtable.” Debbie handed off a peppermint tea and stood beside her. When she set up Georgia’s Godmothers in this Riverbrook office a little over two months ago, she had brought Debbie on board to manage the applications and administration of funds for the new charity.

“You know I’m old school.” She loved seeing the wishes on clean white cards, each one brimming with the potential to make a difference. “This family is asking for car repairs. Maybe we should just buy them a new car?”

“That would go way over the cap.” As well as being an office manager and administration goddess, Debbie was also Georgia’s sounding board and let’s be fair, dream-crusher. She didn’t mean to be such a downer, but they had to be realistic about how much they could dedicate to each wish, usually a thousand dollars. Debbie had no problem reining Georgia in.

“Let’s offer them the full amount for the repairs.”

Debbie nodded. “We have more applications for fairy godmothers, so I’ve blocked out tomorrow morning for volunteer interviews. And your mother called asking if you could do lunch on Thursday.”

“She wants to make sure their money is being used wisely.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe she just wants lunch with her daughter.”

Anything was possible, she supposed. Since she’d set up Georgia’s Godmothers, her parents had become more involved in her life, in a positive way. She’d finally told them the truth about her marriage, its beginning and end, and they had been more understanding than she expected. Of course, they assumed that what started as a mistake was best acknowledged as such, though her mom thought Dylan was very nice for “someone who plays a game for a living.”

She’d spent the last four months working on herself. Therapy to deal with losing Dani and the effects of her upbringing. Talking with her parents to let them know how their attitudes hurt and stunted her growth. Setting up her new foundation and ensuring that caregivers were rewarded and supported.

Mostly she’d worked on getting over Banks.

If only the man could be easily dismissed, assigned to a forgotten corner of her mind. But she saw him everywhere: a bottle of hot sauce, a cup of tea, even stupid oranges all had the capacity to remind her of what she’d loved and lost.

She had been so busy with the foundation that it took her months to get around to initiating the annulment again. (It was her story and she was sticking with it.) Two weeks after sending them on, and he still hadn’t returned the signed papers.

Back to the board, to her new purpose. This was what she was meant to do. This would help her through.

An hour later, she had the cards arranged to her liking. The godmothers assigned to each case would work with the families to distribute the grant funds, set up appointments, and ensure the needs of the caregivers were met.

She sipped on her tea, though it had gone cold. Time to take a break.

The door to her office opened and Debbie put her head in. “Do you have a minute? We have someone here who wants to make a donation.”

“Of course! Send them in.”