“Yeah. Long day.”
I grab my bag, then hesitate. “Text me tomorrow, okay? If she wants to talk, or if you do.”
He nods once. “I will.”
Out in the parking lot, the night air hits cool and clean. My phone buzzes with a text from Kristy:
You free tomorrow night? I have wine.
I exhale, smiling faintly.
Perfect. I’ll bring snacks.
The next day moves quickly, and I’m grateful for the distraction.
During our morning PT session, I ask Declan again how Sophie’s doing.
He says it’s the same—she’s quiet, withdrawn, barely talking at breakfast.
He’s giving her space, hoping she’ll come to him when she’s ready.
I nod, pretending that eases me, but it doesn’t.
Because I care about her. And knowing she’s confused and hurting?
That’s the kind of ache I don’t know what to do with.
Now it’s early afternoon. The clinic’s calmer than usual, sunlight slanting through the frosted windows and catching on the stainless counters. The rest of the medical team’s filtering back from lunch, and the hum of printers and low conversation fills the space.
I’m halfway through updating post-game notes when my phone buzzes.
My pulse stutters when I see that it’s Erin. I swipe to answer.
“Hey, Erin.”
“Hey, Charlotte.” Her voice is warm, if a little rushed. “I just wanted to say—I didn’t tell David anything about… you and Declan.”
I blink. “You didn’t?”
“No. He heard it from the girls. Sophie told Maya you were over for dinner. Maya told us at breakfast, and… well, you know how fast that chain goes.”
A soft laugh slips out—more relief than amusement. “Right. Kids.”
“Yeah. I figured you’d want to know,” she says. “David’s processing, but he’s fine. He said he talked to Declan the other day, and I could tell it went okay. So… don’t stress too much, okay?”
I close my eyes, leaning back in the chair. “Thanks, Erin. Really. For not—”
“Telling anyone? Please. I have enough gossip flying around my house without adding an NHL scandal to it.”
That earns a small smile. “I owe you one.”
“Just make sure you two know what you’re doing,” she says, gentler now. “I think you’re good for him. And for what it’s worth, David’s not mad, just surprised. He’ll come around. Just… be careful, okay? For both your sakes.”
“I will,” I whisper.
When the call ends, I stare at the screen a moment longer before setting the phone down. The quiet rushes back in, heavy and full of what-ifs.
I exhale slowly, a tangle of emotions settling in: relief that David isn’t furious, ache for what Sophie must be feeling.
