I really looked at Ludo, the fun-loving manwhore I’d consider a friend. “I appreciate it, man. But it's not that easy. They aren’t obligated to keep us, any more than they’re obligated to keep you. The only person who they wouldn’t break a contract with is Muss, and that’s only because there’d be a fucking riot among the fans.”

Shaking his head, Ludo huffed. “It is that easy. You love her, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And I’m going to assume that the big guy down there snoring like a freight train loves her too?”

I looked down at the mess of a man, who was once my mostly emotionally stable best friend. “Yeah, I think that's safe to say.”

Ludo rolled his hands, like he was trying to get me to the point he was making, but I actually had no idea. He huffed. “If you blew out your knee tomorrow, and your career was over, would you be happy with the decision to give her up? In ten years, when you’re fucking washed up and feel like you’ve been hit by a truck every morning when you roll out of bed, will you be happy with your decision then?”

I was shaking my head before he’d even finished. “It wasn’t my decision, man—it was hers. I can’t make her want to stay.”

Ludo threw his hands in the air. “And they say you’re the emotionally un-stunted one.”

“Who says that?”

“Doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is she gave you up so you didn’t have to give up your dream. Your shiny, fancy job. She didn’t make the decision because she hates your guts and the sight of your shriveled dick makes her want to gag. From everything you said, she left so you didn’t have to stop playing hockey. So you didn’t spiral down a one-way trip to fucking indefinite suspension.” He frowned at me like a disappointed parent, and that would have been hilarious from my younger teammate if his words weren’t like a punch in the chest. “That tells me she is a good woman. It tells me she loves you. So how about you pull your fists from your asses, and go and tell her that she’s worth growing the balls you need to ignore the bullshit sledging from other teams. She’s worth playing so good that the team would be crazy to give you up over some fucking bad press.” Ludo snarled. “Bad press is one thing, but winning games is more important. You have a losing team, you aren’t going to be making any fucking money either.”

I stared. “Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Andrei Ludokov?”