I didn't skate away. Didn't give him the satisfaction.
Instead, I glided to the boards and stepped off the ice, blades clicking against rubber as I planted myself in front of him. Close enough to see the cold calculation in his eyes. Far enough that he couldn't touch me without making it obvious.
"Didn't think you'd still be here," he said, voice smooth as glass over gravel. "Figured you'd crawl back to whatever hole you came from."
I pulled off my gloves, slow and deliberate, and tucked them under my arm.
"What do you want, Nate?"
He tilted his head, that smirk deepening. "I warned you."
The words landed soft. Poisonous.
I felt the ghost of his hand on my jaw again, the way he'd grabbed me in the locker room like I was still his to claim. The way he'd kissed me in front of cameras, knowing I couldn't fight back without breaking everything I'd built.
But I wasn't that girl anymore.
I met his gaze head-on, lips curving into something sharper than a smile.
"You did. And I'm so glad."
His smirk faltered. Just a flicker—but I caught it.
He raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly like he was trying to read me. Trying to find the crack.
I didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't give him a damn thing.
Because the truth was simple: he'd tried to ruin me, and I'd walked into the fire, anyway. I'd chosen Calder. I'd chosen honesty. I'd chosenmyself.
Nate had nothing left to take.
I leaned in, close enough to smell the cologne he'd probably sprayed on before coming here—the same one he used to wear when he wanted to remind people he mattered.
My voice came out calm. Steady. Venom wrapped in silk.
"Now I don't have to pretend I was ever in love with you. Now everyone knows what a small, spineless prick you really are."
His jaw tightened. I kept going.
"And yeah, your dad? Bigger than you. Better than you. I came more times in four nights with him than I did in our entire relationship."
The crack of his hand across my face came so fast I barely registered it.
My head snapped to the side, pain blooming hot and sharp across my cheekbone. I stumbled back, catching myself against the boards. My lip split, copper flooding my tongue.
"You fucking slut."
He was breathing hard, fists still clenched, face twisted into something ugly and raw. The mask was gone. No charm. No polish. Just rage.
I touched my mouth, fingers coming away slick with blood.
And Ilaughed. A real, full-throated laugh that echoed through the empty rink like a victory bell.
Nate froze, confusion flashing across his face.
I straightened, wiping the blood on the back of my hand, and gestured lazily toward the corners of the rink.
"You know there are cameras, right? You just signed your own death warrant."
