Page 145 of Falling

“I'll always be here,” I reply, my heart swelling with love and pride. “Always.”

We pull apart just enough to look into each other’s eyes, but neither of us lets go. The moment is perfect, and I can feel the depth of his love and gratitude in his embrace.

“Go get your trophy, hotshot,” I say with a smile.

He grins and gives me one last kiss before skating back to his team. The official hands him the trophy, and the team erupts in cheers once again. Miles lifts it high above his head, his face beaming with pride. The team gathers for the official photos, posing with the trophy, their smiles wide and genuine.

The team takes a victory lap around the rink, holding the trophy high for the fans to see. The arena is a sea of cheers and applause, and I can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride and love for Miles and everything he’s accomplished. He deserves this and so much more. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for him because I have a strong feeling it won’t be long before he’ll be playing in the pros.

47

MILES / WREN

“YOU’RE BEING NICE TO ME. ARE YOU SICK?”

MILES

Being crammedinto a back booth of a restaurant with my best friends, my sister, and my parents is exactly how I saw tonight going after the championship. The room is buzzing with excitement, laughter, and the faint sound of clinking glasses from the other patrons celebrating their own victories and milestones.

My arm is draped around Wren’s shoulders, her warmth grounding me as I soak in the scene around me. Kennedy and Scarlett are sitting across from us, animatedly recounting their favorite moments from the game despite neither of them being huge hockey fans. Their excitement is contagious, and it’s clear they had a good time.

“To be honest,” Scarlett says, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “I didn’t understand half of what was happening, but seeing Miles score that goal was pretty impressive.”

Kennedy nods vigorously. “Yeah, and that hit you took in the second period? I thought you were done for, but you bounced right back. Like, how do you evendothat?”

I chuckle, feeling a swell of pride. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot that you were there. Even if hockey isn’t your thing.”

My parents are beaming with pride when I look over at them. Being with them both today has felt like a dream. It felt like old times when they’d go to mine and Carter’s games and take us out for food afterward.

My dad lifts his glass. “To the North Bears, and especially to you, Miles. You played one hell of a game.”

“To the Bears!” Everyone echoes, raising their glasses.

My sister, sitting next to our dad, smirks at me over the rim of her drink. “So, MVP, how does it feel to be the hero of the hour?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “It was a team effort. Everyone played their hearts out.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Wren chimes in. “You were incredible out there, Miles. I was literally on the edge of my seat the entire time. I couldn’t be prouder.”

I squeeze her shoulder, my heart swelling with gratitude. She put up a hell of a fight to wear my jersey a few months ago, and now she’s wearing it with pride. I can’t wait to rip it off her tonight.

“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” I say.

As we continue to talk, my mom’s eyes glisten with emotion, and part of me is too afraid to know what she’s thinking. Our relationship has strengthened since her birthday, and I couldn’t be happier. I forgot how good it feels to have my mom in my corner, and I don’t want her to leave there again. “I have to say, Miles, seeing you play tonight, after everything we’ve been through… It’s just... We’re so proud of you.”

My dad nods, his voice thick with emotion. “We really are, son. And Carter would have been too. You did him proud tonight.”

Mentioning Carter brings a lump to my throat, but I manage a nod. “I hope so. This win is as much for him as it is for us.”

The table falls silent for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts about Carter. His loss has been a heavy burden, but tonight, I feel a sense of peace, knowing that we honored his memory with our victory.

It’s not long before the night starts to wear on, and the more alcohol Clara has, the more embarrassing childhood stories she wants to share. If it was any other night, I would have told her to stop by now, but I don’t. We’re all so happy and tired, and it feels too good to ruin some good fun.

Clara teases, “Remember that time you tried to build a hockey rink in the backyard and ended up flooding the lawn?”

I groan, shaking my head. “I was ten, Clara.”

She laughs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, come on, it’s a classic Miles moment. Mom and Dad were so mad, but you were so determined to make it work. You even tried to freeze the water with a fan!”

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