“Oh, please,” she spits. “You’re just proving a point. You’ll come back. You always do.”
I step back, choosing space because if I don’t, this becomes a spectacle. “There’s no ‘back.’ We’re done.”
That gets her attention. Her voice lifts, dramatic and echoing off every wall. “So who is she? Who’s got you pulling this pathetic stunt?”
Ryan and Lukas drift closer like guard dogs in expensive skates. The rest of the team shifts too, subtle but unified.
“She’s not a stunt,” I say. “She’s…” Mine, my heart whispers. The safest place I’ve ever rested. The only thing that feels real. But I’m not saying that here. “She’s good to me,” I say. “Better than you’ve been in a long time.”
Talia’s painted perfection cracks. “You think you’re some great catch now?” she hisses. “You think thisgirlwon’t figure out what a disappointment you are?”
My fists curl. So do my teammates’.
“She calls herself a photographer,” she continues, loud and cruel. “But she’s a nobody with a guilty crush and a nervous giggle,”
“Enough.” My voice cuts through everything. “Do not talk about Rose.”
And that’s it. I’ve said her name. I’ve chosen a side. She sees it and she hates it.
“So thereisa Rose,” she sneers. “How sweet. Does she know your best was never enough for me? That you’re clingy and needy and?—”
“I’m done letting you tear me down.” My heartbeat is a steady roar now, unstoppable. “I’m done letting you control the narrative. I’m done, Talia. Full stop.”
She steps back as if I’ve slapped her. Her voice shakes and she tries to hide it with venom. “You’ll regret this.”
“No. I won’t.” I meet her eyes, steady and certain. “I already regret not ending us sooner.”
The silence that follows is heavier than any hit I’ve taken on the ice. She puts her sunglasses back on because she’s got nothing else left. Turning, she storms out, and the doors slam behind her so hard the boards rattle. The whole rink holds its breath.
Then Ryan says, “Well, that was dramatic.”
Lukas pats my shoulder. “Good on you, mate.”
Coach clears his throat, purposely loud. “Back to work! The soap opera is over.”
Except inside me, everything is still happening. I skate the next drills like my legs are fuelled by something primal and that instinct is crystal-clear.
Rose.
After practice, the locker room fills with steam and jokes as tape rolls fly like missiles. Ryan steals my towel until I threatenhis future children. Lukas makes some comment about me smiling like a lovesick idiot. And yeah, maybe I am. Because the moment I sit to tie off my shoes, the door opens.
Rose stands there at the edge of the hall, strands of hair spilling out of her hat, camera bag slung over her shoulder, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Her eyes find mine and soften instantly. My entire chest goes warm.
She gives a shy wave to a couple players. “Hi.”
Ryan straightens his hair, posing like a prat. “Hey there,”
I launch a roll of tape at his skull. “Don’t even think about it.”
He laughs, saluting her. “Take good care of him. He’s fragile.”
Rose smiles, tucking her hair back. “I’ll… try.”
God, she’s beautiful.
I walk up to her without hesitation, without fear of being watched, and rest my hand on the curve of her back. She leans into my touch as if she’s been waiting for it. Something inside me clicks into place. Permanent.
“You ready?” I ask.
