The words slice straight through my ribs.
“You’re not being left behind,” I insist. “You’re the one walking out.”
She flinches like I hit her, then steps forward and cups my face in both hands. Her touch is warm, familiar, desperate.
“I love you,” she whispers, mascara smudging beneath one eye. “God, I love you so much it scares me.”
“Then stay.”
She shakes her head again, tears spilling now.
“I can’t.”
I wrap my fingers around her wrists, holding on like that might anchor both of us. “Harper?—”
She kisses me.
Deep and shaking and fucking heartbreaking.
A kiss that tastes like memories and endings and my future slipping straight through my fingers.
When she pulls back, she’s crying openly.
“Goodbye, Harrison. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
She grabs the duffel bag, wipes her cheeks, and walks out of my dorm room while the world outside keeps on celebrating.
And she doesn’t look back.
And by the time I chase her to the stairwell she’s already gone.
I gasp so hardit feels like my lungs seize. The windshield is fogged with my breath when I lift my head. Ten years, and I still feel that moment like an earthquake in my bones.
I can’t knock on her door tonight. Not like this.
So, I put the truck in drive, gripping the wheel until my knuckles ache, and force myself to go home.
But I barely sleep.
I’m early.
Like,wayearly.
The rink is the one place I go where I can find solace to work out my emotions. It’s a place that doesn’t judge who I am or what I do. I’d planned on getting on the ice before the guys showed up, if for no other reason than to burn the anxiety out of my muscles. But when I step into the rink, someone’s already here, sitting on the bench pulling his skates on.
Connor.
That mop of dark brown curls.
Those wide, excited blue eyes.
My stomach drops straight through the damn floor.
“Hey, Coach Harrison!” Connor grins up at me, like seeing me just made his whole damn day, and something inside me splinters.
I force a smile. “Hey, bud. You’re pretty early.”
“Mom had a meeting nearby,” he says, tugging his skate laces tight. “I told her she could drop me off early so I could get some skating in before everyone else got here. It’s cool, isn’t it?” he asks, looking around and taking in a deep breath. “How quiet everything is in the morning when nobody else is here? The ice looks so big when I’m the only one on it.”
