Brienne nods as if she understands everything.“You don’t have to tell me a thing, Maddie.I’m a safe space, but I also understand you don’t know me.”
I’m not sure what it is about this entire scenario—so very weird sitting in a luxury suite with a billionaire woman asking me to spill my heart, and oddly, I seem to trust her.
I swallow hard.“I grew up in foster care.”The confession feels like it echoes too loudly, even over the arena noise.“Trust is… complicated for me and I learned to never expect anything from anyone.It’s hard never having anyone to depend on.You shield yourself from possibility.”
For a moment, I brace myself for pity.But Brienne doesn’t flinch or look away.She nods, slow and thoughtful, like she’s cataloguing every word.“And Atlas?”she asks.
I let out a shaky breath.“He feels… different.Safe, but also risky.I imagine it feels a lot like lacing up skates and stepping onto the ice for the very first time.I don’t trust the feeling and I’m pretty sure it’s going to hurt when I fall.”My laugh is hollow.“It’s easier to tell myself not to risk it than to brace for when it cracks.”
Brienne leans forward, her tone low and certain.“First, love the ice-skating analogy.Second, trust doesn’t mean you know the ending, Maddie.It just means you’re willing to give someone the chance to prove you wrong about the worst you expect.”
Her words settle into me, heavy and frightening and hopeful all at once.Before I can respond, the lights dim.The announcer’s voice booms through the arena, sending the crowd into a frenzy.
Brienne touches my arm again.“We’ll talk more, but right now, let’s go cheer our boys on.”
She guides me from the high-top to the cushioned seats at the very front of the suite.Three tiers down and it feels like we’re hanging over the ice with the most amazing views.
The national anthem begins and we stand.I press a hand to my chest, surrounded by twenty thousand voices hushed to a reverent quiet.
My breath catches.
Below, Atlas stands at the blue line, helmet tucked under his arm, head bowed.He looks immovable, carved into the ice itself.Pride swells in me so sharp it’s almost painful.Then the final note hits, and the arena explodes in sound—cheers colliding in one furious storm.
Atlas skates to the bench, takes a seat as the first line gathers at center ice.
I don’t know what I am to him.Co-parent.Hookup.Something in between.Maybe nothing more than tonight.
But right now, with the crowd thundering and the anthem echoing in my chest, I am proud.Nervous, overwhelmed, half out of place—but proud.
For tonight, I accept it and if I’m lucky, I will learn to enjoy it.
♦
The family loungebuzzes with leftover energy from the win—kids weaving through legs, half-eaten sandwiches on the catering table, highlight reels looping on the mounted flat-screens.I stand in a corner, hands tucked in my pockets, trying not to look like I don’t belong.
It’s painful, being the outsider, but I’m saved almost instantly by Winnie edging through the crowd.“There you are!”she exclaims.
I accept her hug, squeezing back with true affection.
“So, what did you think about the game from the owner’s suite?”she asks.
“It was amazing,” I assure her.
“I told Atlas I’d hang out with you while the guys are showering.It won’t be long before they come to collect us.The girls have gone over to Mario’s to put some tables together.”
We chitchat for about twenty minutes and Winnie introduces me to a few of the family members, but admits to me in a hushed whisper, “I’m the newest to the Titans group, so I don’t know all of them yet.But everyone’s so nice.”
Agreed.For all of Atlas’s talk about this being a family, I haven’t seen anything to indicate otherwise.
And then Atlas is there, Lucky right behind him.Atlas’s hair is still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the ends.He’s not wearing the suit he left the house in, rather jeans and a black V-neck sweater that molds to his torso.
Lucky grabs Winnie up in a huge hug and spins her around, but I stare at Atlas awkwardly.
“Great game,” I blurt out.“Congratulations.”
Atlas grins and I know it’s because he can tell I’m nervous.He steps closer, easy, steady, and I make the mistake of going in for a half hug.It’s awkward, until his arm hooks around me firmly, pulling me into his warmth.For one long second, I lean in.Then I force myself back, nerves snapping.
“Relax,” he whispers in my ear.“No one would dare think we like each other.”
