“That makes sense.”
“I’ll miss the chaos,” I add. “The boys. The noise. But balance matters. Semi-pro works for me because I don’t have to burn everything else down to chase it.”
Her expression softens. “That’s… really healthy, Theo.”
I snort. “Don’t tell anyone.”
She laughs, then grows quieter.
“I love it here,” she says, almost to herself. “Well, nothere, but...”
“In Iron Lake?”
She nods.
“I didn’t expect to. I thought it would just be a stopover. Somewhere to breathe for a bit before moving on.”
“And now?”
“And now… Now, I don’t want to leave.”
The words land heavier than she probably intends.
“I’m staying,” she says, turning to look at me properly now. “With Beau. Permanently.”
Something tight in my chest eases, even as something else shifts into place.
Relief, mostly. A little ache.
And a quiet understanding that doesn’t need to be named.
“I’m glad,” I say honestly. “For what it’s worth.”
She searches my face, then reaches out, squeezing my hand.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
We sit there a moment longer, the rink filling up, voices echoing now, the distant sound of skates hitting ice.
“You’re still part of this, you know,” she says, nodding toward the rink. “Tonight. This team.”
I nod. “I know.”
My leg may keep me off the ice longer than I want, but it doesn’t take me out of the circle, doesn’t take me out of the room.
And it sure as hell doesn’t take me out of whatever this strange, shifting thing between all of us has become.
“Ready?” she asks, standing and offering her hand.
I take it, pushing up carefully. “Yeah.”
Finals may be equal parts messy and unpredictable, but standing here, stretching out the last of the stiffness, knowing where I stand—even if it’s not where I planned—I feel steadier than I have in weeks.
Whatever happens tonight, I’m not watching from the outside. I’m still part of it.
And somehow, that’s enough.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
