She didn’t owe him another word.
Later, we’d learn how close we’d come to losing everything. One of the staff members we trusted had tipped Nathan off with details that never should’ve left our circle. Nathan didn’t know everything, but he knew enough to start watching. Enough to tighten his grip. Enough to pay attention and play dirty. That was why he’d read right through Carter’s attempt to lure him at the party.
Amidst all the insanity, the Tampa Bay Ospreys rebuilt.
Piece by piece. Line by line. Trust by trust.
We played angry hockey. Honest hockey. Hockey that didn’t fuck around or give anyone room to doubt us. We showed up every game with something to prove — and we did it.
So tonight, somehow, impossibly, we stood on top of the world.
The press conference wrapped up in a blur — handshakes, flashes, congratulations shouted over the din. When I finally stepped back into the hallway, the celebration roaring from the locker room down the way, I let out a long, relieved sight.
And then I saw her.
Ariana stood just beyond my office, her hands clasped in front of her, shoulder leaning against the wall. She wasn’t wearing team colors — an oversized blue and white sweater paired with jeans, hair loose around her shoulders, her smile soft and real in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
My heart galloped at the sight of her.
Six months ago, she’d been counting her life in court dates and survival breaths. Now she lived in a small place of her own, sunlight pouring through windows onto the library she’d built herself, and a bed she could sprawl out in without fear of the person crawling into it with her.
The divorce was finalized.
It had been mostly clean and quiet, especially in comparison to the investigations into Nathan’s activity with Vegas. Georgiewas still in med school, his future intact, paid for without strings attached thanks to a judge who understood all too well what Ariana had been put through.
And Ariana was back where she belonged — working in social services again.
She’d started working with the local hospital, Sweet Dreams too tainted with Nathan for her to pick up where she’d left off with it. Instead, she passed it to the very capable hands of our organization and turned to community work, specializing in helping women and kids find their way out of the very hell she’d survived.
She was turning pain into purpose without letting it swallow her whole.
Therapy was a part of that journey for her, and I was so proud of how vulnerable she was being not just with her therapist, but with me, too.
We were taking it slow. She lived at her place, and I lived at mine, but there were many nights we stayed over. Mostly, we were having fun dating again — drinking smoothies as we walked the beach, buying books from the used bookstore downtown, going to concerts as we found new artists to fall in love with.
Learning each other again.
We were uncovering the people we’d been together all those years ago, clinging to the connection that had made our foundation so strong. We were exploring who we were now, who we’d grown into in our time apart. And more than anything, we were building the people we’d become — the people we wanted to be together.
Her eyes met mine, and her smile widened, pride bursting through those bright blue eyes.
“Not bad, Coach,” she said as I approached. “Second period was kind of sloppy, but hey, we can’t all be perfect.”
I smirked, taking her under my arm and kissing her hair. “Keep up that bratty behavior and I’ll have to bend you over my knee.”
“In that case… your speech on the ice kind of sucked, too.”
I grinned, tickling her sides as she squirmed beneath my touch, giggling and swatting me away. When I finally took her in my arms, it was with a long breath of a kiss, my hands clasping behind her hips.
“I love you.”
She smiled, trailing her arms up around my neck. “And I love you. More than anything.”
“More than Coldplay on a rainy day?”
“More than that.”
“More than the perfect smoothie?”
