Page 65 of Offside Bride

“I really don’t think Sawyer meant to get all of this,” I try.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Siobhan ticks her finger side to side. “Consider this payback for all those times he destroyed my Barbies as a kid.”

“He did that?”

“Yep.” She nods, like it was a travesty to shame all other travesties. “Now, let’s hit the shoe department!”

Hours later, Siobhan and I are settling into our plush box seats at the Blizzard Dome. My eyes widen as I take in the lavish spread before us—gourmet appetizers, a fully stocked bar, and a personal server hovering nearby.

“Wow,” I breathe. “This is…a lot.”

Siobhan grins. “Sawyer always goes all out.”

I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as I look around the spacious box. “I invited Jessica and her husband, but they couldn’t get a sitter. It seems like such a waste for just the two of us.”

At least Emily will join us later on.

“We’ll have to plan something for next time,” Siobhan says, patting my arm reassuringly.

My gaze falls on two neatly folded jerseys sitting on the table in front of us, each with a little note card.

Siobhan notices them too and squeals with delight. “Aww, Sawyer left us presents!” She grabs one and unfolds it, revealing a crisp, black and red jersey with ‘O’MALLEY’ emblazoned across the back. “Here’s yours, Maggie!”

I take the other jersey, my heart doing a little flip when I see Sawyer’s number. It’s enormous, practically swallowing me whole when I put it on.

“I feel ridiculous,” I mutter, tugging at the hem that falls well past my knees.

Siobhan laughs. “Here, let me help. I’ve had years of practice styling these things.”

She expertly tucks and folds, transforming the tent-like garment into something almost fashionable.

“There! Now you look like a proper hockey wife.”

I still think I look like clown that escaped the circus, while Siobhan’s lithe frame would look good in a potato sack.

I brush her long, blonde hair over her shoulder to reveal Sawyer’s name and number on the back. “At least you get to wear your own name,” I say. “O’Malley.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake.

Siobhan’s brow furrows in confusion. “You’re an O’Malley now, dear,” she says slowly, tilting her head.

My mind races as I scramble to cover my slip-up. “Oh, right! I mean, I haven’t had time to go down to city hall to change my name yet. You know how it is, paperwork and all that.”

Siobhan nods, seemingly satisfied with my explanation. But inside, my stomach churns. The truth is, I never changed my name because it would be a pain to change it back to Jones after the divorce.

Divorce.

The word hits me like a sucker punch. Suddenly, the thought of divorcing Sawyer makes my stomach feel like it’s full of rocks.I swallow hard, trying to push away the unexpected wave of emotion.

The arena erupts in cheers as the players skate onto the ice. I can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement, my eyes scanning the rink for Sawyer. When I spot him, my breath catches. Even from this distance, he’s a commanding presence on the ice.

“There he is!” Siobhan squeals, pointing excitedly.

I nod, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yep, that’s him all right.”

The game starts with a face-off, and suddenly, the ice is a blur of motion. Players dart back and forth, sticks clacking, skates scraping against the ice. I find myself leaning forward, oddly invested in the action.

“Go, Sawyer!” Siobhan shouts, jumping to her feet.

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