32
LIAM
“This is a good plan,”Ellie says, glasses perched low on her nose as she scans the last page of paperwork. “But are you sure about the account for Emma?”
She looks up at me across the table. We’re sitting in a restaurant, half-eaten lunches pushed aside to make room for paperwork and her open laptop.
“I’m sure,” I say.
Once the money from my dad’s house finally came through, I checked with Nik and Leanna about a dozen times to make sure it was really mine.
They both told me the same thing: the Browning debt was gone for good, and I needed to stop asking.
Without the house, I needed somewhere to live. I thought about buying a place, but Leanna advised against it. Being married to a pro hockey player, she understands what can happen if I get traded. And with my contract negotiation coming up, there’s a real chance I’ll be moving again soon.
So I settled on a short-term apartment near Emma’s. Furnished. Flexible lease. Easy to leave if everything changes.
“Okay then,” Ellie says, sliding the stack of papers toward me. “Sign everywhere I flagged, and I’ll have everything up and running within forty-eight hours.”
I sign where I’m supposed to, hand the pages back, and watch her double-check them one last time. She nods, satisfied, and tucks everything neatly into a folder, then slips it into the designer bag sitting beside her.
“I’m glad things are on the upswing for you, Liam,” she says as she closes her laptop and stows it away. “You seem like a good person. I like seeing good people win.”
I give her a small smile, and she cocks her head quizzically.
“You look sad. Why do you look sad? You just invested seven figures worth of money. You have enough left in your bank account to pay your rent, pay your mom’s rent, and buy a new car.”
“Yeah, no, all of that is… good,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t need to hear about my pathetic love life.”
Ellie tilts her head, takes a sip of her iced tea. “This wouldn’t happen to involve Emma Reyes, the woman for whom you just set up a very generous investment account?”
I give her a thin smile. “It is. But it’s whatever. Not your problem.”
“No,” she agrees, “it’s not my problem. And it’s not my business.” She folds her hands on the table. “But I will say this—my husband came to me as a brand-new client with a… let’scall it a complicated file. Our professional boundaries got tested. Some of his chaos bled into my life. It wasn’t easy.”
She gives a knowing smile. “But we figured it out. So if it’s meant to be, you two will find your way. That’s all I’m saying.”
I leave the meeting feeling lighter than I have in weeks, and even hopeful.
Ellie’s words settle warm in my chest, and for the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t feel like a locked door.
The energyin the arena hits me the moment my skates touch the ice. It’s loud, bright, and buzzing the way it always is on a home game night. Normally, that kind of noise winds me up, making me tense.
But not tonight.
Tonight, everything inside me is calm.
For the first time in months, my head feels steady. My chest feels open. My body feels like something I can control instead of something I’m fighting.
Nik skates up beside me for the opening faceoff. He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a slow, assessing look that lasts half a second but means everything.
He sees it.
They all do.
The puck drops.
I snap it back cleanly and take off, my body moving with a fluid precision I barely recognize as my own. No hesitation. No overthinking. No anger is tightening my chest.
