Ryan grins. “Finally realised Talia’s too much work?”
Brennan shoots him a look. “Ease up.”
But I just shake my head. “We’re done.”
The words come out flat, final. There’s a beat of silence, and then Ryan whistles low. “Bloody hell. You serious?”
“Deadly,” I mutter, stripping off my hoodie and pulling on my practice top. “Packed my stuff and left last night.”
Brennan leans his stick against the wall. “Good for you,” he says, calm but sincere. “That wasn’t working, mate. Everyone could see it.”
Ryan smirks. “Aye, we were taking bets on when you’d finally grow a backbone.”
I give him a look, but there’s no actual heat behind it. “Cheers for the support.”
Lukas looks up from his skates, accent soft but unmistakably Quebecois. “You broke up with the influencer girl?”
“Yeah.”
He grins, but it’s the kind of grin that’s all mischief and no malice. “Good move, man. That one scared me. Always filming everything.”
Ryan laughs. “That’s because you’re a puppy, rookie. Wait till you date one yourself.”
Lukas grins wider. “Not my style. I like girls who don’t need a filter. Someone who knows who she is without all the noise.”
I freeze for half a second too long before forcing a chuckle. “Yeah,” I agree. “Me too.”
“Ice. Now!” Coach yells across the room and we all hustle.
Training hits hard. Coach Byrne’s in one of his moods, barking orders as if we’re back in juniors. “Move your arse, Fraser! You think the puck’s gonna wait for you? Again!”
I push harder, lungs burning, blades biting deep into the ice. Every turn, every sprint becomes a punishment, and maybe that’s what I’m chasing. Punishment. Because every time I breathe, I see Rose again. Sitting in that café, smiling at me over her mug, telling me I didn’t owe anyone a version of myself I didn’t recognise. It shouldn’t have meant as much as it did.
The whistle cuts through the air. “Neutral zone transition! Let’s go!”
We line up, five across. Brennan shouts the play, Ryan drops the puck, and I take off down the wing, stick low, mind blank until Lukas, skating opposite, bodies me off the puck clean.
“Christ, rookie,” I growl, spinning to chase him.
He grins over his shoulder. “Gotta keep you sharp, old man.”
Ryan cackles as he follows up behind. “You getting shown up by the kid now, Cal?”
“Shut it.” I slash the puck back from Lukas, send it flying to Brennan, and slam a shot into the boards as the whistle blows again.
Coach skates over, jaw tight. “You call that focus, Fraser?”
“I’m fine,” I snap, breath ragged.
“Doesn’t look fine. Can you get your head in the game and over the ex-girlfriend, or do I have to bench you until you remember why you’re here?”
The room goes silent as the echo of his voice carries. I drop my gaze, chest heaving. “No, Coach.”
He studies me a beat longer than necessary, then blows the whistle again. “Reset! Five more drills. Earn your ice.”
Brennan glides past, murmuring low enough only I can hear. “Sort your head out, mate. You’re too good to waste it on whatever’s haunting you. Which I’m guessing is Talia.”
I don’t answer. I just skate until my lungs burn.
