"You look like you need these," she says. "Also, we're leaving. Girl time at Piper's cabin. You're not invited."
"I can walk you back," I start.
"And yet, still not invited." Sage links her arm through Piper's. "Come on, Piper. Let's leave them to celebrate properly."
Then they're gone, and I'm left with two beers and the weight of every decision I haven't made yet.
The drive home is quiet.
Sage and Piper's laughter carries across the driveway from her cabin. My phone buzzes in my pocket—Preston again, probably more logistics and excitement about the scouts.
I'm sitting in my rearranged living room, staring out the window at nothing, when there's a knock at the door.
Sage doesn't wait for an answer before letting herself in, hands shoved in her jacket pockets.
"Walk with me?" she asks.
We end up at the edge of the property where the trees start, snow crunching under our boots. The stars are impossibly bright overhead, the kind of clarity you only get in deep winter.
"I'm proud of you," Sage says finally. "Tonight's game. Everything you've built here. All of it."
"Thanks."
I wait for the criticism, the lecture, the advice I didn't ask for. When it doesn't come, I glance at her. "But?"
"No buts. I'm just proud." She's quiet for a moment. "You're in love with her."
It's not a question.
"Yeah," I admit. "I am."
"And she's in love with you," she says.
"I think so."
"So what's the problem?"
There it is again. The question nobody can stop asking because I keep refusing to answer it.
"I can't have both," I say. "The NHL means leaving. Staying means?—"
"Giving up the dream," Sage finishes. "Except what if the dream changed? What if what you want now isn't the same as what you wanted at six years old?"
"That's not how it works."
"Why not?" She turns to face me fully. "Dad picked firefighting because it mattered to him. Not because it was expected or because anyone told him to. He chose purpose over glory, and he never regretted it."
"And if I stay and regret it?"
"Then you deal with it like an adult instead of running from the possibility of being happy." Her voice is fierce. "You're allowed to change your mind, Ryder. You're allowed to want different things. You're allowed to choose her, choose this town, choose the fire department—and it doesn't make you a failure."
My phone buzzes. I pull it out.
Preston.
Preston: Spoke to both teams. They want you in Seattle Tuesday, Miami Thursday. Book your flights yet? Call me tomorrow.
Sage reads over my shoulder. "Seattle and Vancouver. Wow."
