Page 26 of Cold as (N)ice

“See you at the wedding,” Barrett mumbled to Batiste, his voice soft but sincere, testing the waters to see if he was still going to be welcomed there.

“You are still myfamille,” Batiste grumbled, his thick accent adding weight to the sentiment as he reached out to shove Barrett’s head playfully, making his man-bun flop wildly. “Even if I want to disown you right now, tête de cochon…”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Giroux uttered, hugging him – and Barrett could no longer speak. No, he was sniffling back tears like a child, feeling such betrayal and loss right now.

He’d left a perfectly wonderful team for the unknown – and so far – frankly, he was a little concerned. This was not how he wanted things to start with the Wolverines, but it was too late to change things. His career with the North Texas Coyotes was done.

The moment he got to the parking garage – he threw up in the trash can that had the gravel on top for the smokers to put out their cigarette butts. Gasping, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and climbed into his car – and sat there. He was shell-shocked. The unthinkable had happened, and instead of feeling like a free man, he felt awful.

His phone chimed, and he glanced at it.

I wanted to check on you. I know how it feels to quit a job and move to another one. There are all sorts of emotions – and if you need to talk, I’m here.

And I picked up a maple-flavored sponge cake to celebrate.

Irene.

Oh gosh, that was so sweet of her, but celebrating was not the first thing on his mind. Right now, he felt like he was eyebrow-deep in a mess and unsure of what his next steps should be.

You got a package from Quebec, too. It was delivered by Fed-Ex…

His heart sank.

What if the Wolverines changed their mind?Panicking, he called her number and heard her answer. The phone barely rang twice before her voice came through, soft and warm, carrying a sense of steadiness he didn’t realize he craved until now.

“Hello?” Irene said.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice thick, hoarse with the weight of everything he’d been through. There was a pause on the line, not awkward but heavy with unspoken questions.

“Can you go ahead and open the FedEx envelope?” he asked, trying to focus on something, anything, other than the gnawing ache in his chest.

“It’s not an envelope. It’s a box.”

Her words caught him off guard. “A box?”

“A big box, actually,” she clarified.

He hesitated. A box?

He hadn’t been expecting anything, especially not today of all days. Before he could piece together a response, her voice broke through again, tinged with concern.

“Are you okay? I’m sure it was hard today. Did they cut you?”

Barrett exhaled, his shoulders sagging as the truth slipped out before he could second-guess himself. “Yes – and it wasawful,” he admitted, his voice breaking just enough to betray the vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said softly.

“Me too.”

The line was quiet for a moment, a pause that felt like an embrace from her end, offering comfort without pressing too hard.

“Do you want me to still open it?”

“Yes, please,” he managed, grateful for the small distraction.

He listened to the faint sounds of her moving around, the rustling of tape and cardboard, while his gaze drifted to the parking garage exit ramp. He watched Lafreniere’s car pull out first, followed by Boucher’s, both of them driving off for the last time. For them, maybe they didn’t feel the same swamping guilt. But for him, everything felt heavier and uncertain, like he was standing on the edge of something crumbling. He was desperately afraid that he’d made a huge mistake.

Then Irene’s voice came back, soft but stunned, carrying a note of disbelief that made his chest tighten.

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