What the hell was wrong with her? Damn it.
Audrey wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned her head on her knees, letting the tears roll down her legs. She hated feeling like this. She wanted to be happy. She was damn near thirty. Shouldn’t she have her shit together by now? She shook her head, wiping her cheeks with the palm of her hand before taking a deep breath. She looked up at her shelves, and couldn’t bring herself to be excited about how fantastic her shoes would look on them. She would much rather have a nursery, with a sweet baby in it. But that was an untouchable dream, something she would never be blessed with. At least not in the way she wanted it to happen.
When Audrey heard the sounds of a piano, she let out a thankful sigh. She stood up quickly, getting her beer and chocolate before leaning up against the wall that she shared with her neighbor. It always got on Levi’s nerves when her neighbor played his piano, but it was honestly the highlight of her day. And right now it couldn’t have been a more welcome sound. As she listened to her neighbor’s skillful hands move along the keys, playing the most beautiful song ever, “A Drop in the Ocean,” by Ron Pope, she found herself singing along, instead of thinking about things she couldn’t change. She needed this escape, especially after the night and morning she’d had.
All of a sudden she started crying again, she couldn’t help it. She was completely alone and probably always would be. No man would want someone who couldn’t have children. It had been almost ten years since she was told she would never be able to carry her own child. Why did that still bother her so much? Why couldn’t she get over it and just live her life? There were men out there who wouldn’t mind adopting or being with just her, but damn it, it had been ten years and she still hadn’t found him.
Audrey moved her hands along her cheeks as the sobs left her body. She’d had so many plans when she was younger. So many, and all of them were gone now. If she’d been strong and stood up to her father when she had the chance, she wouldn’t be here; she would be doing what she wanted. Instead, she was working a job she hated, involved in relationships with deadbeats, and would never be able to hold a child who she grew inside of her.
It wasn’t fair.
But life wasn’t fair.
Tate slammed his stick against the goal post.
What the fuck was his problem! That was two goals in fifty-two seconds! He never let goals in that quickly. He inhaled a deep cleansing breath. He wasn’t himself, and that needed to change. There was no way he was going to let the Assassins lose to the Ducks, the worst team in the NHL. He was one of the top goalies in the league. He had to get his head in the game.
Tate slammed his stick against his pads before standing high and looking out at the ice. His captain, Shea Adler, and his alternate captain, Jakob Titov, stood together as three forwards skated around, getting ready for the puck to be dropped. He glanced over to where Coach Bacter stood, yelling his ass off. Bacter never really talked to the guys when they were on the ice; he was more of a yeller.
And that was a problem for Tate.