Page 85 of Triplet Babies for Pucking Christmas

“Yeah, I know,” Nate’s voice cracks a little. “No one knows how this would even work. The two teams hate each other, and now they wanna merge? It’s insanity.”

I stop walking, pressing my palm against the side of the building. “Wait, are you saying they want to trade our guys to the Blackhawks or some shit? What does a merger even mean at this point?” I can’t even make sense of this.

“Not exactly. They’re looking to shuffle players around, put some on different teams, maybe move up some guys to higher-ranked positions. But the way it’s looking, some of the best players are gonna get benched. They’re thinking about a total overhaul.”

I can feel my blood boiling. “Benched?Benched?You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Nate sighs again. “Yeah. And with a merger like this, it’s not like they’re gonna let just anyone keep their place on the team. These moves? They’re gonna fuck up careers, man. Big time.”

I lean back against the building, my mind racing. I can’t even wrap my head around the idea of anyone on the team getting benched. They’ve been playing their asses of this season and this is how the team decides to repay them?

This whole situation is a fucking nightmare.

“So, who’s getting the ax first?” I ask, already dreading the answer.

“I don’t know,” Nate says, and his voice sounds heavy. “But brace yourself for the call, Jared. They’re gonna start with the big names. People are gonna get cut.”

“Shit,” I mutter. “Too much is happening, all at once. Savannah’s pregnant with triplets, and now this.” I can feel the stress building up in my chest. I can’t deal with this on top of everything else.

“I get it,” Nate says, his voice softer now. “It’s a lot. But you need to focus. Family first. Always.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah. I’m trying to, but it’s hard, man. There’s too much pressure.”

“I know, I know. But you’re strong. You’ll get through this.” Nate pauses, and I can feel the weight of his words. “Just don’t forget what’s important. This team, these guys, they’ve got your back. And you’ve got theirs.”

I nod, even though I know he can’t see me. “Yeah. You’re right. I just—fuck, I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.”

“I hear ya, Jared. Just…take a deep breath. You’ll figure it out.”

The line goes silent for a second, and I let the tension ease just a little. But the weight of what’s coming hangs heavy in the air. The merger. The trades. The stress of being a fucking hockey player, trying to balance my life, the team, and now, Savannah and the babies. It’s like a goddamn house of cards ready to fall.

“Thanks, Coach,” I say, my voice low. “I’ll keep you posted.”

I end the call and let out a long, shaky breath. Fuck. What the hell is going on? First, we find out Savannah’s carrying triplets, and now this merger talk? It’s like the world’s trying to throw every curveball at me.

I take another deep breath, my hands clenched into fists. I have to keep it together. For Savannah. For the team. For everything that’s coming next. Because right now? This is no time to crack under pressure.

I walk back inside, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation. But as soon as I step through the door, I see Savannah again, lying in her hospital bed. Her eyes meet mine, and I can’t help but smile despite the mess of everything else.

“Everything okay?” she asks, her voice soft.

I nod, trying to push down the storm inside. “Yeah. Just…just a lot going on right now.”

She reaches for my hand, her grip tight. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

I squeeze her hand back, nodding. “Yeah. We will. We have to be.”

And for the first time tonight, I feel a glimmer of hope. Even with everything falling apart around us, I know we’ll face it together.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Troy

Savannah’s lying in the hospital bed, looking pale but calm. Jamie’s pacing by the window, glancing at her every two seconds like she’s gonna vanish if he looks away too long. Jared’s on his phone, probably handling work. Me? I’m just sitting here, trying to figure out how the hell we’re supposed to handle triplets.

Triplets. Fuckingtriplets. The word bounces around in my head like a puck in a bad game.

Dr. Hill finally comes back in, clipboard in hand. “Well, everything looks stable. We’re going to discharge Savannah, but she needs to rest. No stress, plenty of fluids, and light activity only. And I mean it—no exceptions.”

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