“What do they want?” Fear creeps into my voice. “Are you in trouble?”
“I don't know, and I'm not concerned.” He shrugs. “My personal life is my private business. As long as it doesn't affect my performance on the ice, they can't do anything.”
“I wish I were that confident about my future,” I say, bitterness in my voice. Resentment against him builds up inside me.
“Harper, relax. Everything is going to be okay.”
But as I look at his confident face, his unwavering certainty that everything will work out, I realize he doesn't understand what I'm losing. His career is secure, protected by contracts and talent and years of proven success.
Mine is built on reputation and trust, and both of those things can be destroyed in a single news cycle.
Everything is not going to be okay. And Cole cannot possibly understand that.
I push the food away and stand up abruptly, my stomach churning with anxiety and resentment. “I can't eat anymore.”
Cole looks up at me with concern. “Harper.”
“I'll sleep in the guest room tonight, if you don't mind.” The words come out flat and emotionless.
“I do mind.” His voice is firm but gentle. “Come on, don't do this.”
“I need some time alone tonight.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold despite the warmth of his apartment.
“Harper, please don't pull away from me.” There's a desperation in his voice that I've never heard before. “We can get through this together, but not if you shut me out.”
The hurt in his eyes makes guilt twist in my chest, but I can't bring myself to comfort him. Not when my entire professionallife is crumbling around me while his remains completely untouched.
“I'm not shutting you out,” I say quietly. “I just need space to think. To figure out how to handle all of this.”
“We can figure it out together.”
I shake my head. “From where I'm standing, this is my problem to solve. You get to go to your meeting tomorrow confident that your career is secure. I get to watch mine fall apart in real time.”
Cole stands up, reaching for me, but I take a step back. The distance between us feels like a chasm.
“One night,” I say. “Just give me one night to process this without having to worry about how you're feeling, too.”
He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him wrestling with whether to push or give me what I'm asking for.
“Okay,” he says finally. “One night. But Harper? We're going to talk about this tomorrow. Really talk.”
I nod, already heading toward the guest room, feeling both relief and an aching loneliness at the thought of sleeping alone.
22
Cole
Practice is brutal, but I welcome the physical punishment. For two hours, I can focus on nothing but hockey. It's the only peace I've had since yesterday's shit storm began.
In the locker room afterward, the guys are unusually quiet around me. Most give me supportive nods or pats on the shoulder, but no one brings up the elephant in the room until Novak approaches me by my locker.
“Heard management summoned you. You ready?” he asks, toweling off his hair.
“As ready as I can be.”
“Listen, Cap.” He leans against the lockers, his voice low. “You're a star player. Don't let them push you around in there. Your personal life is your business.”
“I appreciate that.” Never thought the day would come when I would take advice from the wildest player on the team.
