“This isn’t about what you want,” I whispered. “Or about what I want. It’s about what you need. Whatheneeds. And what I can’t give you right now.”
Her hands fell from mine like the last rope between us had snapped. “So that’s it? You just decide? You break my heart and call it protection?”
My chest heaved. “Just because it’s not now doesn’t mean it’s never.”
Something I’d never seen before happened then. My girl who was always softness and light stiffened, her gaze narrowing, jaw set tight. I watched in real time as ice slid into her eyes. “If you walk away from me now, Shane, that’s it. Itisnow or never for me.”
That ice in her gaze pierced right through my chest, my heart, my lungs. My next breath was lodged in my chest. My pulse pounded unsteadily through my shredded heart. I knew what she was really saying:choose me now, or lose me forever.
“So you’re asking me to give it all up,” I said hoarsely. “To choose you over hockey. To forfeit my dream and stay.”
Her lips parted, trembling. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head, sobbing now. “No, that’s not what I want. I just—”
But she didn’t finish, because she knew. Deep down, she knew there was no other way.
And I knew, too.
I couldn’t have hockey and have her, too.
So I pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in like it was the last time — and I knew in my heart that it was.
“I love you enough to leave,” I said. “Please love me enough to understand.”
Just like that, I’d made my bed.
I was prepared to lie in it.
But I knew I’d never sleep again.
The Ending of Us
Ariana
Present
We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day.
Tampa in mid-October could still be sweltering. I’d discovered that with much chagrin as a girl who grew up in Connecticut and stayed in the northeast until very recently. I missed the leaves changing and the cool weather, but I had to admit — this wasn’t bad, either. The humidity had dropped, it was pleasantly warm, and the sky was pure blue, not a cloud to be found.
That might have been the first sign something was off.
Days like this were meant to be uncomplicated. And yet, as I stood at the end of my long driveway waiting for Shane, my pulse skidded too fast, anticipation buzzing beneath my skin in a way that felt wholly inappropriate.
Shane pulled up and stopped short of the house, just where I’d asked him to. I hadn’t wanted him any closer. The house loomed behind me, quiet and watchful, and something about leaving it like this — slipping away without a word of my plans to my husband — felt wrong.
It was wrong the way my excitement outweighed caution. It was wrong how easily I’d said yes. The fact that I hadn’t told Nathan about it was all the proof I needed that this wasn’tinnocent, no matter how carefully I tried to frame it in my own head.
But I was just curious enough to ignore every warning sign and say yes, anyway.
“This is an upgrade from your old Pontiac,” I mused with an arched brow, the wind blowing my hair as we cruised through the streets of Tampa with the top down in his Jeep Wrangler. It made me smile, that he could have picked any luxury car in the world, but instead he’d gone with something so unmistakably him.
The boy I’d once known — the one who lived for hockey and sunshine and any excuse to be outside — would have worshipped a Jeep. And somehow, it also suited this new version of him just as well: coach for the Tampa Bay Ospreys, easygoing, settled, sun-browned, and thriving in a life I never quite pictured him having without me.
“God, do you remember the summer the air conditioning broke in that thing?” He shook his head. “Grandma and Grandpa insisted I had to save up and pay to fix it on my own.”
“Oh, how dare they,” I mocked.
“Hey! I was too busy with school and hockey to carry a job,” he defended, and then he hit me with a boyish grin. “And you, of course. Mostly you, in fact. I think I could blame the whole no-job thing on you, really.”
