Tied Up In Knots


Duncan’s POV
 
I woke up and reached for Lydia. She wasn’t there and my heart felt heavy with sadness and loss. I made a few pokes at myself at how I was a pussy for letting something like this get to me. Men, real men don’t let things like this affect them.
 
The shower felt hot and cleaned the night off of me, but I didn’t feel refreshed.
 
The drive to the rink was impossible with more traffic than any Saturday morning should have. My mood worsened.  
 
Arriving early as usual, I used the time to try to blow off steam in the weight room. When Kaner and Steeger came in horsing around, I ripped them a new asshole and tried another shower. No help.
 
I sat at my locker trying to busy myself taping sticks and doing anything other than reliving memories of what happened last night. I ignored my teammates, even Seabs, who knew by the look in my eyes not to fuck with me.
 
The door to the locker room came open, in walked Sharpie, late as usual dragging Lydia by the hand. I couldn’t peal my eyes off them, though they didn’t even seem to notice I was there. I was just one of the random teammates, the other guy with an A. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her in such a way that I wanted to get up and punch him in the face, take him out of the game that afternoon. Instead I threw my stick against the wall and exited the room. All eyes followed me wondering what had gotten into level headed Duncan Keith.
 
We lost the game to Vancouver. Final score 4-3. The game misconduct, five minute fighting major and ten minute instigating penalties I received at the start of the third period for whooping Burrow’s ass didn’t help my team. Alex didn’t stand a chance. Not on that day.
 
After the fight, the loss and a long shower I walked into the locker room just in time to see Patrick Sharp leave with Lydia. I snickered at myself over my behavior. I wasn’t that guy, I told myself and decided it might take a couple of days, but I’d pull it all together.
 
I was tying my tie, ready to head out. I planned to avoid the bar where all the guys, Sharpie and his wife included, would be hanging out. That’s when Seabs took a seat beside me.
 
“How you doing there buddy?” he asked sheepishly, knowing I might just snap.
 
“I’m ok.” I wasn’t interested in giving him details.
 
“You wanna tell me what got into you today. What the fuck you were thinking on the ice? I can usually read you like a book.”
 
“You wouldn’t understand,” I replied trying to blow off my defensive partner.
 
“Try me Duncs. I’ve never seen you like that.”
 
I sat down in my stall and looked at him, trying to decide if I was going to tell him. Aww fuck it, I decided. “It’s just I had this dream last night. It seemed so real.”