Page 118 of Across the Boards

“Sarah told me everything,” I interrupt, unable to maintain polite pretenses. “About Jason in Seattle. About the job offer. About your plan to leave.”

Her face closes off immediately, the defensive mask I remember from our earliest interactions sliding into place. “You shouldn’t be here. I was going to call you tomorrow, explain properly.”

“Explain what? That you’re running away because your ex threatened my career?” She flinches, and I immediately regret my harsh tone. “Elliot, please. Just let me in so we can talk about this.”

She hesitates, then steps back, allowing me to enter. The familiar space feels different somehow—emptier, as if she’s already begun the process of leaving in her mind.

“You don’t understand,” she says as soon as the door closes, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective gesture. “Jason wasn’t bluffing. He has the connections, the influence to make good on his threats. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“I don’t care,” I say with absolute conviction. “Let him try. Let him do his worst. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“It’s not that simple.” She turns away, moving toward the kitchen as if seeking distance. “This isn’t just about feelings, Brody. It’s about your career, your future. Everything you’ve worked for.”

“No, what I’ve worked for is a life that means something beyond hockey,” I follow her, unwilling to let her retreat physically or emotionally. “Hockey is my job, not my identity. And it sure as hell isn’t worth losing you over.”

She finally turns to face me, expression pained. “You say that now, but what about when the suspensions start? When the fines add up? When teams won’t touch you because you’ve been labeled a ‘problem player’? You’d resent me. Eventually.”

“That’s not true,” I insist, closing the distance between us. “And it’s not going to happen. Jason doesn’t have the godlike powers he wants you to believe he has.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” she says, a tremor in her voice betraying her composure. “What he’s capable of when his ego is bruised.”

“No, I don’t.” I concede this point, gentling my tone. “But I know the league. I know how things really work behind the scenes. And I know that his influence has limits, especially when he’s acting out of petty revenge.”

She shakes her head, unconvinced. “I’ve already accepted the job in Seattle. It’s done.”

The finality in her voice sends a surge of genuine panic through me. “When? When did you accept it?”

“This morning. Before I flew home.” She won’t meet my eyes. “It’s a good opportunity, Brody. Better pay, more responsibility. A fresh start.”

“A fresh start,” I repeat, the words bitter on my tongue. “Away from me. Away from us. Because that’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Not protecting my career, but running from what we could be together.”

Her head snaps up, eyes flashing with genuine anger. “That’s not fair. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“The right thing for who? Not for me. Not for you, if you’re honest with yourself.” I take another step toward her, close enough now that I can see the exhaustion etched into her face, the tension in her shoulders. “If you want to take the Seattle job because it’s truly what you want, I’ll support you. We can figure out long distance. But don’t do this because you’re afraid of Jason. Don’t let him win.”

Something flickers in her eyes—doubt, maybe, or a crack in her resolve. “It’s not that simple,” she says again, but with less conviction.

“It is that simple,” I insist, reaching for her hand, relieved when she doesn’t pull away. “You’re trying to make a noble sacrifice, and I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But I don’t accept it. I won’t let Jason take this from us. Not when we’ve barely begun.”

“Brody—”

“I love you,” I say, the words finally breaking free after weeks of holding them back. “I love you, Elliot. I think I have since that night at the Christmas party years ago. Maybe that sounds crazy, and maybe it’s too soon, but it’s the truth. And if you’re going to walk away, I need you to know exactly what you’re walking away from.”

She stares at me, shock written plainly across her face. “You... what?”

“I love you,” I repeat, finding strength in the declaration. “Your brilliance, your caution, your dry humor, the way you light up talking about books. The way you wear my jersey and correct my grammar in text messages and make me feel like more than just another player. I love all of it. All of you.”

Tears fill her eyes, one escaping to track down her cheek. “Don’t say that. It makes this harder.”

“It’s supposed to be hard,” I reach up to brush away the tear with my thumb. “Because it matters. We matter.”

“Jason will never stop,” she whispers, a confession more than an argument now. “He’ll always see you as a target because of me.”

“Then let him come after me,” I say firmly. “I can handle Jason Martinez. What I can’t handle is losing you because he made you afraid.”

She looks away, but not before I catch the uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ve already accepted the job.”

“Jobs can be declined. Or negotiated to remote work.” I keep my voice gentle but firm. “Unless this is what you truly want. Unless you’re using Jason and my career as excuses to end something you don’t actually want.”

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