"Something like that," I say.
"And?" she presses. "Is it weird?"
"It's… new," I admit.
Harper nods thoughtfully. "That sounds about right for the first week of marriage."
"You two seem very calm about this," Mia says, looking between us. "If I married a professional hockey player or anyone on short notice, I would absolutely be spiraling."
Harper tilts her head toward the ice. "Honestly I'm still impressed you pulled off a secret courthouse wedding in the middle of hockey season."
"Right?" Mia says. "Half the league can't keep a haircut secret and you two got married without anyone noticing."
Then Mia nudges my arm lightly. "Also… you're staring at Gabriel like you just realized he's hot."
Harper lifts a brow. "To be fair, that realization happens to most women eventually."
"You're both impossible," I mutter.
Mia laughs. "Relax. No one is saying anything. Yet."
"We like him," Harper adds gently. "That helps."
My eyes drift back to the ice before either of them can read my face too closely.
Apparently I'm not as subtle as I thought.
After the National Anthem, the puck drops.
The first period is fast. Clean. Physical.
Mason blocks a shot early and clears the zone. Gabriel finishes a check along the boards and ties up his man in front of the net. The crowd roars at a near breakaway. I clap when I am supposed to clap. I stand when everyone stands.
This is muscle memory.
Except now I track two numbers on the ice.
That realization hits me somewhere between a defensive zone faceoff and a line change.
Married.
I press my lips together.
Halfway through the period, an opposing winger takes a late run at one of our rookies. The hit is high. Dirty.
The rookie goes down.
The crowd boos.
Gabriel is there first.
He shoves the guy back, chest to chest. Words are exchanged.
The arena explodes.
I am on my feet before I realize I have moved.
Mason skates in, not fighting but ready. Ready to protect. Ready to escalate if needed.
