He was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I'll do anything to help. Whatever you need, Sweetie.”
After a few steps, Dad asked. “So… did you spend the weekend at Sean’s?”
My face flushed instantly. I felt the heat crawl up my neck, my overactive blood vessels doing their thing. “Yeah.”
He smiled, gentle and knowing. “Do you love him?”
I took a breath. “I do.”
We kept walking, the path stretching ahead, quiet and sunlit.
That night, I lay on my bed with a heart so light it could’ve floated straight out the window. Mom knew she’d lost ground, she hadn’t said a word when I got home. I heard her upstairs,but she never came down. It was just as well. There was no space for anything but the Cup now. In a few hours, Monday morning would hit like a whistle at the start of overtime. I’d be busy, Sean would be up to his neck, all of me was already leaning into the week ahead.
The arena buzzed with Cup-week energy—players sharper, staff tighter, every hallway humming like a live wire. I spent the day rink-side, DevPad in hand, logging progress notes, updating nutrition and training departments, and fielding questions from media liaisons who were suddenly very interested in hydration stats and sleep cycles.
Maria had pulled me aside early that morning. “I know we’re short-staffed, but I want you rink-side this week until the Cup.”
I nodded, grateful. She had just given me a ticket to the live action.
Sean passed me twice during the day. Once near the locker room, once by the tunnel. Both times, we exchanged a quiet “Hey,” and a nod. No lingering glances, no stolen touches. Just two professionals in the eye of the storm. I knew it would be like this, the Cup was everything this week. And yet, his presence tugged at me.
By the time I sat in my car, my brain was fried. The sun looked like full daylight despite it being nearly 5 p.m.—classic late June. I leaned back, letting the seat cradle me, when my phone buzzed.
Sean:Hey Cutie, on your way home?
I smiled and typed back.
Me:Hi, yes. How about you? You looked busy out there.
Sean:I was, but finishing soon.
I stared at the message, my heart fluttered. I wanted to see him, more than anything. But I knew this week was a pressure cooker, and he probably needed to dive headfirst into strategy mode even after the rink.
A pinch of disappointment settled in my chest, but it was the kind that came with knowing someone was worth the wait.
Me:Okay leaving you to blow Florida away with your beautiful mind. 'Night\*flaming piñata emoji\*
Sean:\*laughing emoji\*
I grinned and pulled out of the lot.
The house was quiet when I got home. No movement upstairs, just me and the soft hum of the fridge. I kicked off my shoes and wandered into my room, restlessness settling in. I didn’t feel like going for a walk, pulling my old bike from the garage, or even reading a good book. I flopped onto my bed.
Fine. Packing, then maybe decluttering.
We were off to Florida on Thursday. I yawned open my suitcase and in no time it was ready. I was becoming an expert at packing for these trips.
With that done, I pulled the first box from under my bed and sat on the floor—old schoolbooks, sticker-covered planners, and notes from people I hadn’t thought about since sophomore year. I flipped one over. It was from a girl named Tasha who used to sit behind me in math.“You’re the reason I don’t fake being sick every Tuesday.”I laughed.
These were the kind of things most people toss when they move out. But I’d grown up in this house, and my past was still here in cardboard boxes.
I glanced around my room, and suddenly it felt too small. Too much in the past. Sean’s words echoed:I wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day.
I’d wanted that too. Between the bike rides, the rink-side glances, him holding me through unraveling moments, and declaring his love to me… I couldn’t picture my life without him.
A life.
But then, like a flicker in the corner of my mind, Vince’s name would surface. How he’d left—even after we were engaged.
