Page 64 of They All Puck Me

Ethan’s dark eyes narrow slightly as if he’s trying to gauge my sincerity. After a moment, he gives a curt nod.

I take a step back, addressing all three of them. "I don't want to lose any of you. You've all become so important to me. I care about each of you, in different ways but just as deeply. But I could never choose."

The silence that follows is deafening. Noah is the first to break it, his usually cheerful face clouded with confusion and pain. "Olivia, I... I don't know how this could work. It's too complicated." He turns abruptly, heading towards the exit.

“Noah, wait!” My voice sounds more desperate than I intended, echoing off the empty arena walls. He doesn’t stop.

Liam nods slowly, his captain's composure slipping for a moment. "We care about you too, Olivia. But this... it's too much to ask of us."

My stomach twists as I look at him. “I know, I'm sorry.”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched. “If you think we can juggle our feelings and win the cup, you’re kidding yourself. And all your hard work will have been in vain.”

As Liam strides after Noah, the clatter of his footsteps echoes through the arena. I stand there, my heart heavy, watching them disappear down the hallway. The cold, empty space around me feels like it's closing in.

I turn to Ethan, the last remaining pillar of my tangled emotions. "Ethan..." My voice comes out as a whisper, barely audible over the distant hum of the rink.

He shakes his head, his dark eyes a mix of longing and resignation. "Don't," he says quietly, almost tenderly.

I step closer, desperation creeping into my tone. "Please, Ethan. We can figure something out."

His jaw tightens as he looks at me, and for a moment, I think he might stay. But then he takes a step back, putting distance between us. "Olivia," he says with a sigh, "it's not that simple."

"Why not?" I ask, my voice breaking. "Why does it have to be so complicated?"

He runs a hand through his neatly styled hair, looking away. "Because it just is." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "You need to sort out your feelings. And we need to focus on the playoffs."

My eyes well up with tears I refuse to shed in front of him. "So that's it? You're just going to walk away?"

Ethan's gaze finally meets mine again, softer this time. "I have to," he murmurs. Without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the stands.

The silence is deafening as I watch him go. The weight of their departures presses down on me like an anchor dragging me under. The ache in my chest feels almost physical as I replay their words in my head.

I sink onto one of the hard plastic seats, staring at the empty rink. This was supposed to be my big break—my chance to prove myself as a journalist. Instead, it's turned into an emotional quagmire I never anticipated.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut: I put it all out there. I laid my heart on the line, and what do I have to show for it? Just accolades and an article. The standings for Oliva Lutz's heart remains 0-2, or well 0-5.

With a heavy sigh, I stand up to leave. It's time to get out of here before anyone else sees me like this—before anyone else sees just how broken I feel inside.

As I make my way out of the arena, each step feels heavier than the last. The echoes of their voices still ring in my ears—Liam's commanding tone tinged with frustration, Noah's playful warmth laced with pain, and Ethan's quiet strength masked by resignation.

I don't know how I'm going to fix this mess or if it even can be fixed. But one thing is certain: I'm not giving up without a fight.

The weight of the evening continues to press down on me as I fumble with my keys and push open the door to my apartment. The familiar scent of vanilla and lavender wafts over me, but it does little to soothe the storm raging inside. I kick off my shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and collapse onto the couch. My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking through my haze of misery.

I pull it out, seeing a text from Sophie: "Saw the game. Wolves crushed it!

A humorless laugh escapes me. The game isn't the only thing the Wolves crushed. Without thinking, I hit the call button. The line rings twice before she picks up.

"Liv! What's up?" Sophie's voice is bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to my mood.

"Hey, Soph," I manage to say before my voice cracks. The floodgates open, and I spill everything—my growing feelings for Liam, Noah, and Ethan; the stolen moments; and the heartbreaking scene that just unfolded at the arena.

Sophie listens without interrupting, her silence a comforting presence. When I finally finish, my words trailing off into sobs, she speaks softly.

"Oh, Liv, I'm so sorry. That sounds incredibly tough."

"It is," I sniffle. "I feel like I've ruined everything."

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