Page 107 of My Pucked Up Enemy

I lift my coffee. “Define ‘up.’”

She lifts her latte and takes a long sip, eyeing me over the rim. “We women only pace like that when we’re spiraling. Who pissed you off, the team or Tinder?”

I laugh despite myself. “Neither. Not exactly.”

She flops on the couch with a grunt, crossing her legs under her. “Spill it. No vague therapist metaphors. Just words.”

I sit across from her, coffee in hand like a shield. “The league offered meTHEjob. Officially. National role. Full department. Real title. And I don’t know what to do. After hearing your story with Derek at the retreat, I was hoping you could help me.”

Lizzie’s eyes widen. “Holy hell, Nina! That’s huge!”

“I know.”

She studies me. “So… why do you look like someone just offered you a lifetime supply of expired yogurt?”

I exhale. “Because I don’t know if I want it.”

Lizzie cocks her head. “Didn’t you tell me when we first met that this kind of job was the goal? The big seat at the big table?”

“I know,” I whisper.

“And you’re not thrilled because…?”

I pause, struggling for the words. “Because things changed. I changed. Detroit changed me. The Acers changed me.”

Her voice softens. “And there’s someone else, isn’t there?”

I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah. Alex.”

She blinks. “Chadwick? As in your star goalie Chadwick?”

“Exactly that Chadwick,” I say, watching her reaction.

Lizzie leans back. “Damn. You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

I huff out a breath. “It wasn’t planned. It just… happened. And now I’m trying to figure out how much of this offer is about career and how much is about leaving him.”

She leans forward, elbows on her knees. “So what’s really stopping you? Saying yes? Or saying no?”

I stare into my mug like it might offer answers. “It’s not just him. I mean—it is, but it’s not only him. It’s everything. This team, this city… I feel like I’ve built something. Something real. And if I leave now, I don’t know if it’s ambition or fear or just… running from the hard part.”

Lizzie is quiet for a beat. “Okay. Real talk?”

I nod.

She points at me. “You are one of the smartest, gutsiest women I know. You are also a world-class overthinker who sometimes confuses clarity with comfort. But I’ve watched you throw yourself into this job with your whole damn heart. You made those guys believe in something bigger than hockey. Girl, you mademebelieve in team culture.”

That makes me laugh.

She goes on, “So yeah, maybe this new opportunitywasthe goal. But goals change. And following your gut doesn’t mean selling out. It means trusting you’ll land somewhere better, even if it’s not the skyline you thought you’d be looking at.”

I nod slowly, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “It feels like whatever I choose, something important gets left behind.”

Lizzie’s eyes go soft. “That’s adulthood, babe. Trade-offs and knowing there’s no perfect option. But here’s the good part: no matter what you pick, you’re not alone. Not now. Not ever.”

I reach across the couch and squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Liz.”

She squeezes back. “Always. Now go shower. You look like anxiety personified.”

---