"Murphy," she said carefully. She needed this conversation to be over. "You need to move on."
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. His gaze felt heavy. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”
"I think it's for the best."
"Okay," he said as he stood up. "I need to get to the ice."
He turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
The moment he was gone, Hillary slumped in her chair, pressing her palms over her face. Her chest ached with the effort of holding herself together. It was for the best. She had to believe that.
But staring at the untouched muffin on her desk, she wasn’t sure she did.
Somehow, Hillary made it through her day. She'd been in a daze and cut out around lunch, she told herself it was because it was a game night. She told herself this is what needed to be done. But she was just so tired.
Hillary sat stiff-backed in her seat, eyes on the ice but mind miles away. The arena buzzed with the familiar electricity of game night, but her chest felt tight, weighted with thoughts she couldn’t shake.
Beside her, Sasha leaned over, studying her with narrowed eyes. “What is going on? You’ve been off all day.”
“I’m fine,” Hillary said quickly, too quickly. She forced her lips into something that resembled a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes.
Sasha’s skeptical look said she didn’t buy it for a second. But instead of pushing, she let it slide, shifting the conversation. “There was a group of girls in Murphy jerseys trying to sneak down into the locker room earlier.”
Hillary’s head whipped toward her. “What?”
“Security stopped them before they even made it past the first checkpoint. They were harmless, just loud superfans. This whole thing around him hasn’t disappeared yet.”
The words tugged at Hillary, even as Sasha softened the edges with a small grin. “The frenzy is calming down, though,” Sasha added. “Online chatter isn’t as wild as it was. People are moving on.”
Hillary nodded faintly.
And then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, the Jumbotron lit up with Murphy’s face.
There he was, center screen, singing along to the pop anthem blaring through the arena speakers. His smile stretched wide, unguarded, and the crowd roared with delight. He looked exactly like what the internet called him—bright, joyful, golden.
Hillary’s heart squeezed at the sight.
She tore her gaze away, forcing her focus back on the ice. This was for the best. It had to be.
39
MURPHY
Rain streaked down the café window, blurring the streetlights into watery smears of yellow and white. Murphy sat hunched over his empty coffee cup, tracing the rim with one finger, watching the drops race each other down the glass.
Murphy sat there, lost in thought. He had every intention of asking Natalie out tonight. When Alice had invited him to an escape room for Taylor’s birthday and mentioned that Natalie would be there, it seemed like a good time to get to know her a little before asking her out, but then it turned into a giant shitshow.
In fact, for a few minutes there, he had thought Sven was going to fight him over Natalie, who he wasn’t even on a real date with.
The barista called out the closing announcement, her tired voice bouncing across the quiet shop. Chairs scraped, coats rustled, and a couple at the corner table gathered their things. Murphy stayed a beat longer, dragging his feet, before finally pushing back his chair.
He shrugged into his jacket, the fabric cool against his skin, and slung his hood up before stepping outside. The rain had softened into a steady drizzle, enough to soak him if he lingered. He jogged across the slick sidewalk, avoiding a shallow puddle, and climbed into his car.
The quiet wrapped around him as he sat behind the wheel, breath fogging faintly in the chill.
But the whole evening had been nothing but proof. Proof that Natalie had a thing for Sven. Proof that Sven had a thing for Natalie. Proof that he wasn’t even a little ready to date anyone.
So here he was, soaked and restless, the ache in his chest sharper than he wanted to admit. Hillary had pushed him toward Natalie like it would fix everything. Like it would make him forget.
