I stared at those words. Not acceptance. Not approval. But not rejection either. Not silence.
I love you. Always.
It was more than I’d had on Monday.
“The team group chat is blowing up,” Étienne said, scrolling through his phone. “Kinnunen posted the rainbow flag. Jensen said, ‘Respect.’ Harris said, ‘Got your backs.’Reid made some joke about us still owing him beer from the last team outing.”
“Who hasn’t responded?” I asked.
Étienne’s face tightened. “Boucher. And a few others.”
Expected. But it still stung.
More notifications. ESPN had picked it up.Sports Illustrated. Every major news outlet.
“Colorado Glaciers Players Come Out in Relationship.”
“Pro Hockey Sees First Gay Couple.”
“Marco Morelli and Étienne Savard Make History.”
The headlines swam before my eyes.
My DMs were flooded. I opened them without thinking.
You’re an inspiration.
Thank you for your courage.
But also:
Hope you get what’s coming to you.
Can’t wait to see you get checked into the boards.
You’re going to regret this.
Threats of violence. Promises of harm. Nothing specific enough to be called a death threat, but the malice was clear. The hate, sharp and vicious.
I closed the app, my stomach churning.
“Don’t read the comments,” Étienne said quietly. “I already made that mistake.”
“Me too.”
We sat there, phones buzzing in our hands, the world exploding around us. Support and hate in equal measure, all of it rushing toward us like a flood we couldn’t stop.
“We should turn them off,” I said finally.
“Yeah.” Étienne reached over, took my phone from my hand. Powered them both down. Set them face down on the coffee table like they were weapons we needed to disarm.
The sudden silence was deafening.
We looked at each other.
“We did it,” Étienne said, his voice shaking. “We actually did it.”
I pulled him close, and he collapsed against me.
