"It's only complicated because you're making it complicated." He clapped my shoulder. "Don't screw up the best thing that's happened to you just because you're afraid of what other people think."
He walked away before I could respond.
I stood there alone, surrounded by the sounds of the team—laughter and chirping and the hiss of showers. All of it familiar. Safe.
All of it suddenly felt like a cage.
Theo didn't text that night.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. My last words to him haunted me.Probably going to be swamped all week.
Translation:Don't expect to hear from me. Don't expect anything.
God, I was a coward.
My phone buzzed with a new message, but it wasn't Theo. It was Mark.
Mark:Meeting confirmed for Friday 10 AM. GM, head coach, and ownership will be there. Dress sharp. This is it.
This is it.
Five years. Captaincy. Everything I’d sacrificed for. Everything that had defined my adult life.
I typed out a message to Theo three times.
I’m sorry.Delete.
This isn't about you.Delete.
I’m falling in love with you and it terrifies me.Delete.
I set the phone down and pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars.
The worst part was knowing Theo deserved better. He deserved someone who could be proud to love him publicly. Someone who didn't treat him like a secret. Someone brave enough to choose him even when it cost everything.
I wasn't that person.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Thursday’s practice was worse.
Theo kept his distance. He matched my energy. When I gave him feedback, he nodded professionally and skated away. No lingering looks. No small smiles. Just polite distance that felt like a knife between my ribs.
In the scrimmage, I watched him take a hit in the corner and my heart stopped—pure instinct to make sure he was okay. But when he got up and our eyes met across the ice, he looked away first.
That hurt more than the hit ever could.
After practice, I found myself in the equipment room. I pretended to check my gear, but really I was just hiding from having to face him in the locker room. The space smelled like tape and rubber and old sweat. Usually I found it comforting. Today it felt suffocating.
The door opened.
Theo.
He stopped when he saw me, hand still on the doorknob. "Sorry. Didn't know anyone was in here."
"It's fine."
Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Aching.
