Ward sighed and decided he didn’t need to perpetuate his so-called relationship with Shelley any more than he had already.

‘She’s not “my girl”. My trainer actually. She was doing me a favour that night, that’s all,’ he told Joe. ‘PR shit.’

The barman barked a laugh. ‘Nice! So, was going tag team on Kendrick’s ass part of your PR strategy then, too? That sucker punch; who did he honestly think he was messing with? Dude dumb enough to screw with you deserved a beat down.’

Ward took a sip of his beer and pushed his ballcap back a bit on his head, getting comfortable. ‘Definitely not part of the strategy. And as much as I agree with you, unfortunately no one else seems to.’ Quickly, he gave a brief overview of the truth – that his hockey career was likely in a nose dive and he was being viewed as human kryptonite with Panthers’ management and across the league. ‘I’m a “loose cannon” apparently,’ he snorted.

The barman shook his head in response. ‘Man, that’s no good – really, that sucks. I mean, that’d be the day that I let someone sucker punch me and they get away with it.’ He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Ward thoughtfully. ‘So why’d Kendrick do it then? The first punch I mean? Everyone has been wondering what started it all.’

Ward considered the bartender and then shrugged, figuring it couldn’t hurt to tell a watered-down version of the truth.

‘I saw him grabbing a friend of mine. Being rough. I didn’t like it and warned him off. That’s just not how you treat a woman, you know?’

‘Hell, no,’ Joe agreed. ‘I would never let someone lay hands on any woman – doesn’t matter if it was my girl, my mom, my sister, my great aunt, my pain-in-the-you-know-where neighbour Barb, or a perfect stranger. If they did, they’d get what’s coming to them too.’

Ward smiled, appreciative that Joe got it. ‘Yeah, not everyone sees it like that.’

‘And now you’re being cancelled, I guess,’ the barman said, shaking his head bitterly. It was a statement, not a question. ‘Even though the other guy’s the asshole.’

Sipping again, Ward muttered, ‘Yup.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I’ve had a good run of it,’ he added sadly, even as his thoughts conjured Hannah’s face, instead of his time on the ice – and that hurt him more.

‘Sorry, man. Those rich pretty-boys always somehow manage to come up trumps. This one’s on me.’ He pointed to the beer.

‘Thanks.’

Joe tapped the bar twice with his left hand and then went back to his duties, grabbing a bottle of vodka and serving another customer while Ward’s eyes drifted to the television screen high in the corner next to the bar.