Chapter 5 – Center Ice
Breakaway Play
October
Amelia
I look around at my quiet, lonely house. It's no longer a home, and my heart aches. It hasn't been one for some time. Even before Jaxson asked for an open marriage, I could sense the distance growing between us for months.
I'd rather not think about that. I want to savor the happiness Bash brings. Last night with him was easy and effortless; the kind of night that made me feel alive in away I haven't in years. I'm not sure if it's because I've been emotionally starved or if Bash makes me feel seen and cared for in a way Jaxson hasn’t in a long time, maybe ever.
It could be both.
Gah! Don't do this, Amelia! No guilt! Don't overthink it. Don't push away something good just because you're scared.
Not looking for anything beyond friendship, I rationalize. No physical relationship, just fun with those who make me smile. Happiness is in short supply right now, and I need allies to help me through this until Jaxson gets it out of his system and his head on straight.
Should I have to wait for him to remember what loyalty is, though?
Maybe it's coloring outside the lines, but blast it, Jaxson set the rules. This is what he wants, and he's enjoying his freedom.
I keep pretending things aren't as bad as they are. I can usually tune out the gossip, far removed from it here in my house.Untilreality hits, and it gets harder to ignore.
When grocery shopping, people stare, gossip behind their hands, or give me the side-eye when I fill my gas tank.
Do they really think I can't see them?
Maybe it's time to switch to online orders and deliveries for all my essentials. It stings because I know I'm not at fault.
The worst part is, it's not even because of anything Jaxson's actually beencaughtdoing. It's the rumors. The things people say they've seen or heard, or even been part of. Everyone knows Jaxson loves attention, the way he flirts with his female fans, and the parties he goes to. I'm no fool. I know what goes on at those parties. Men boast, players gossip, and the women he's been sleeping with love to flaunt it. Word travels fast, bouncing from locker rooms to pillow talk with girlfriends and wives, circling back until everyone knows and whispers about it. And I end up bearing the brunt of the embarrassment.
It even follows me to the figure skating competitions I quietly participated in over the past few months. I try to keep a low profile, but gossip has a way of finding me. Now that the ISU Challenger Series has kicked off, staying under the radar is harder than ever. Hockey players are well-known, and being Jaxson's wife makes me an interesting topic, no matter where I am.
I compete under my maiden name, Amelia Smith, mostly because it's the name I've used since thestart of my career. Plus, it has the added benefit of not being Jaxson's more recognizable last name, Kingston.
That's why I really love the private practice rink Jaxson built behind our house when we married. After it was finished, I could practice here without anyone staring. Of course, the scrutiny has only gotten worse since this summer, just before Jaxson opened the marriage, adding to my misery. I'm not sure how he thinks a hockey player can live like this and still keep it under wraps.
With my skates draped over my shoulder, I head to the rink. Tucked behind frosted glass doors at the edge of the estate, it stretches out before me. It isn't huge—maybe half the size of an official arena—but it's enough. Jaxson can run one-on-one scrimmages, and I can easily rehearse jumps, spins, and complex footwork sequences. The walls are bare, except for a full-length mirror at the back. The ice itself gleams smooth and white under LED lights built into the vaulted ceiling. It casts a soft glow that can be adjusted to mimic competition settings.
There's nothing flashy here. No banners, no framed jerseys, no trophies. Just ice, mirrors, andabsolute heart-breaking silence.
The space wasn't built for me. It was one of Jaxson's first big splurges after he became famous. Hewanted a quiet place to train and stay sharp during the off-season. I thought he meant it for both of us. But after we got married, he made it clear that he didn't want me to skate professionally anymore. He wanted a housewife. A mother. We talked about kids, but as his fame grew, so did the distance between us. I reacted by turning inward and pushing myself even harder.
Thinking back, I remember being sixteen and on the verge of Olympic gold. That was before they raised the minimum age. People called me a prodigy, years ahead of my peers. My scores were solid, and I made it to the final round. I came so close to everything I'd worked for when I twisted my ankle during the performance and had to withdraw. Although the injury might have been minor for anyone else, it was devastating for an Olympic-class skater. It took months of therapy and conditioning to recover.
After that, Jaxson insisted I step away from competition. But as he became consumed by his hockey career, I continued to train in the background. Without his knowledge, I entered smaller international competitions to regain what I'd lost. He was so absorbed in his own world that he never noticed. By then, I think I had just become another one of his possessions.
Because figure skating is in my blood, I couldn't just walk away from it. The truth is, I didn't. I quietly kept training and improving with all the tools here at my disposal. The private rink behind our house, along with my home gym, helps me stay toned and ready, honing my body so that if I ever get another chance, there won't be a single thing holding me back. I've grown stronger and more flexible, rebuilding everything I lost after the injury.
With the help of a therapist, I'm also working to regain my confidence and manage my depression. Missing my shot at the Olympics crushed me. But figure skating, the one constant that never failed me, helped me heal, even though I had to do it behind Jaxson's back.
I hate the secrecy, knowing it only adds to the distance between us, but when I once suggested counseling together, he just scoffed.
I started counseling over a year ago, but never found the courage to confide in Jaxson. I couldn't bear to hear him mock something that's helped me so much. Virtual sessions make it easier to care for my mental health, whether I'm home or traveling for competitions.
The trust fund my dad gifted me when I came of age has been my lifeline. Without it, I'd be completely under Jaxson's control. He handles the household billsthrough his accountant and sets aside funds for daily expenses, but I know he'd question the trips I take for competitions if they came from his accounts. That and the inheritance from my grandmother have given me the freedom to quietly pursue my dreams, without Jaxson ever knowing.
Approaching the rink, I sit on the sidelines and swap my shoes for skates. After lacing them up, I step onto the ice and am immediately transported to another world. The snick of my blades against the surface, the cool air rushing into my lungs, and my hair whipping as I cut a wide arc across the floor pull me deeper into my head. It's all second nature. I come alive with each move, slipping into the rhythm of my routine. As the chill seeps into my skin, I pull my full head covering up and across my face.
