“I’ll be back Friday morning, I think. Maybe Thursday night if I can move a call.”
“Okay.”
Another pause.
“Dec,” she said, quieter now. “Are we okay?”
My hands tightened on the wheel.
There it was. Not accusation. Not drama. Just a woman I had promised a life to, hearing distance through a phone line.
“I don’t know,” I said.
The silence after that had weight.
“I appreciate you not saying yes just to end the conversation,” she said finally.
I closed my eyes briefly at a red light. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“No. You’d just get very busy and hope the answer changed by itself.”
Fair. Deserved.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not asking for an apology tonight.” She sounded tired too. “Come home safe. Feed the horse masquerading as a dog.”
Tiny’s head lifted from the back seat at the word dog.
“I will.”
We hung up gently.
Somehow that made it worse.
At home, Olivia’s side of the bathroom counter was clean except for a moisturizer she had forgotten to pack. Her robe hung on the back of the door. The apartment was warm and quiet, high-end furniture arranged by two people who rarely sat in the same room long enough to make it messy.
Tiny ate like I had starved him for weeks, then followed me to the kitchen and planted himself directly in the path between the sink and the refrigerator.
“You are an obstacle,” I told him.
He leaned his entire massive body into my leg.
I put a hand on his head and stood there longer than necessary.
My phone stayed on the counter. I did not pick it up. I did not check whether Jace had texted, though I knew he hadn’t because I would have felt the vibration from across the apartment. I made dinner, ate half of it, put the rest away. I reviewed lines for tomorrow. I slept badly.
By morning, I had decided on distance.
Clear, professional, consistent distance.
That lasted until Jace stepped onto the ice and missed the first pass clean off his blade.
Not badly enough for most people to clock it as anything more than rust. Roman clocked it. I did too.
Jace retrieved the puck with a sharp turn, lips moving before he reached the line again. Talking to himself. Too fast to catch. His shoulders were tight, but his hands were restless. Stick tap.Glove adjustment. Mouthguard in, mouthguard out, chew, stop, chew again. He was there, but not anchored.
Roman slid into his crease and watched him through the cage.
