“Because it’s true every time.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before turning to hug his mom, his dad clapping him proudly on the shoulder.
His mom beams at me. “You sang beautifully, Laura.”
“Thank you,” I say, cheeks warming.
We chat for a minute, warmth circling around us like a little family bubble, until Scotty’s parents are pulled away by Coach for photos. That leaves Scotty and me tucked against the wall, his arm around my waist, his breath warm on my hair.
“So,” he says gently, “winter break starts. We’ve actually got some time off.” He nudges me. “What do you want to do, Princess?”
My stomach twists—not with fear, but guilt. We’ve been skirting this conversation for weeks. And now, with his parents right there, with everything feeling so real… I can’t avoid it anymore.
“I, um… I might not be totally off,” I admit quietly.
His eyebrows lift. Not upset. Just curious.
“Remember those opportunities I was telling you about?”
“Yeah?”
“A talent agent in New York wants me to come in over break to record a demo. She thinks she can pitch it to some labels.” I pause, steadying myself.
Scotty’s whole face softens with pure pride.
“Laura,” he breathes. “That’s incredible.”
“I know. It just—it all hits at once. And we finally get a break, and I wanted…” I trail off, guilt tightening my throat. “I wanted that time with you.”
He cups my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “Hey. Look at me.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
My breathing stutters.
“You think I’m gonna be upset that the world finally noticed what I’ve known since the first night I heard you sing?” he asks softly. “Princess, this is huge.”
“But we barely get time together,” I whisper. “I don’t want to… I don’t want to lose that.”
“You won’t.” His forehead presses to mine. “We’ll still have time. And if you need to be in New York for a few days? I’ll deal. I’ll miss you, but I’ll deal.” He smiles at me, lopsided and adoring. “We’re strong enough for that.”
“You sure?” I ask, needing to hear it.
He laughs gently. “Princess, I’m not going anywhere. You go record your demo. You take those meetings. You chase whatever feels right. I’ll be here when you get back.”
My heart squeezes tight. “I’m proud of you too, you know,” I whisper. “The way you play… the way you carry yourself… I’m proud every single day.”
His expression cracks open with something tender and unguarded. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Scotty slips his fingers through mine, lifting them between us like a promise neither of us has to say out loud.
“Then we’re good,” he murmurs. “You’ve got big things ahead. I’ve got big things ahead. And we’ll face all of it together.”
Behind him, his parents wave, beaming like he just won the Stanley Cup.
Scotty leans in, kissing me once—slow and sure.
“Come on,” he says, tugging me gently toward the exit. “We should celebrate. Your performance. My win. Erik’s… fox debut.”
I laugh. “He’s going to be insufferable.”
