Page 144 of Falling

“Amelia, wait,” she says, her voice carrying over the noise of the crowd.

I stop, my heart pounding in my chest. Darcy looks between us, sensing the tension. “I'll give you two some space,” she says, squeezing my shoulder before walking away.

I turn to face my mom, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on me. Her eyes are softer than I’ve seen in a long time, but I don't let myself be fooled. “What do you want, Mom?” I ask, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. All the messages exchanged between us over the last few weeks have just been pleas to talk—like everything can be solved through a simple conversation. One where she’d try to make me feel small.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” she begins, her tone cautious. “It's been weeks, Amelia. You’ve been avoiding me when you know we need to talk.”

“I'm fine,” I say, crossing my arms. “I'm here to watch Miles play. That's all.”

“Is it really?” she asks, stepping closer. “Because I know you're still holding a grudge against me for what happened. I know I hurt you, but we need to move past this. You're my daughter, and I love you.”

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check.

Love, not admire.

I can’t remember the last time she said those words to me. We were never the emotional, tell-each-other-I-love-you-everyday type of family, and that was fine. I learned to deal with it, but it wouldn’t have hurt to hear those words every once in a while.

“Do you? Because it hasn't felt like love, Mom. It feels like control. Like manipulation. I can't keep living like that.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “No, listen to me. I'm not here to rehash old arguments. I want to make something clear. I love skating, but I need to do it for myself. Not for you, not for anyone else. Just forme.”

“Wren, I was only trying to help you be the best—” she starts, but I shake my head.

“Being the best at skating doesn't mean anything if I'm miserable,” I say, my voice gaining strength. “I want to enjoy my life. I want to be with Miles without you telling me he doesn't care about me or that I’m not good enough to make him stay. I need boundaries, Mom. If you can't respect that, then I don't know how we can have a relationship.”

Her face crumples slightly, and for a moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability. “I just want what's best for you,” she whispers.

“Then trust me to know what's best for myself,” I reply. “I have to go. The game's about to start again.”

Without waiting for her response, I turn and walk back to my seat, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. It's not easy standing up to her, but it's necessary. I can’t keep doing everything on her terms. Not when this ismylife.

The third period begins, and the intensity on the ice ramps up. The players are moving faster, hitting harder. Carlton’s team seems desperate to even the score, and they're not above playing dirty. I watch as one of their players trips Grayson, our defenseman, sending him sprawling to the ice. The referee's whistle blows, and the crowd boos as a penalty is called.

Miles is right in the thick of it, his focus unbreakable. He takes control of the puck, weaving through Carlton's players with a skill that takes my breath away. The crowd is on its feet, the tension almost unbearable. I can see the determination in his every move, the fire in his eyes as he skates down the rink.

Another penalty is called, this time on Carlton for slashing. It’s a power play for our team, and the energy in the arena is electric. Miles’s dad leans over to me, grinning. “This is it. They've got the advantage now.”

I nod, unable to take my eyes off the ice. Miles is coordinating the play, passing the puck with precision, setting up the perfect shot. And then it happens—a beautiful slap shot that sends the puck sailing into the net. The crowd erupts, and I find myself jumping up, screaming in excitement.

The final minutes of the game are a blur of motion and noise. Carlton tries to rally, but our defense holds strong. Miles is everywhere, blocking shots, making passes, and leading his team with a fierce determination. When the final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, the arena explodes in celebration.

Miles’s family and I hug, caught up in the joy of the moment. As I look down at the ice, I see Miles looking up at us, a triumphant smile on his face. Our eyes meet, and I can see everything we’ve been through reflected in his gaze.

The announcer’s voice booms over the PA system, calling everyone’s attention to the center of the ice for the awards ceremony. The players form a circle, and a small stage is set up. Conference officials and sponsors make their way onto the ice, holding the gleaming championship trophy.

Seeing the trophy, I feel an overwhelming urge to be closer to Miles, to share this moment with him. I start making my way down from the stands, his family and Scarlett and Kennedy behind me as my heart pounds with excitement. We maneuver through the crowd, pushing past people who are just as eager to celebrate.

As we reach the edge of the rink, I see Miles standing proudly at the front as the team captain, his eyes shining with pride. God, he’s never looked more attractive. The official steps forward, ready to hand him the trophy, but Miles’s gaze locks onto mine. He doesn't hesitate. Instead of reaching for the trophy, he breaks away from the team and skates directly toward me.

My heart races as he gets closer. The next thing I know, he’s lifting me off my feet and spinning me around, his arms wrapped around me tight. I’m wearing his jersey, and I’ve never felt prouder to sport the school’s colors.

“You did it!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Wedid it,” he says, his voice filled with joy and emotion. “I couldn't have done it without you, princess, seriously.”

Our eyes meet, and everything else fades away. The noise, the crowd, the flashing cameras—none of it matters. It’s just us.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion.

Miles’s eyes glisten as he pulls me even closer. “Thank you for being here,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. “Thank you for everything.”

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