Page 114 of My Pucked Up Enemy

He’s not just waiting for the Cup.

This isn’t just a career decision anymore. It’s a heart decision.

And I’m playing with someone else’s heart while trying not to break my own.

I stop at the end of the trail and stare at the small pond, ducks floating lazily near the shore. My breath fogs the air.

"You’re being a coward," I say under my breath.

But I’m not sure which decision would be brave anymore, staying or going.

***

When I arrive at the arena, the team is already practicing. I don’t check in with anyone. I don’t go to my office. I just climb into the stands, pull my jacket tighter, and sit.

Below me, drills are underway. Sharp stops, clean passes, the thud of pucks hitting boards. James and Connor are talking smack between sprints, per usual. Ethan’s checking people too hard for a Wednesday. Parker’s in dad-coach mode even on ice.

And Alex…

Alex is silent. Focused. Every move precise, explosive. Like he’s exorcising something with each glove save.

He could’ve done this without me. He always could. But he let me in and now I don’t know what to do.

I fold my arms over the cold seat beside me and stare at the ice.

This is where I feel the most like myself. Not the awards dinners or the glowing performance reports from the league. Not the title they’re offering or the career ladder I’ve spent ten years climbing.

Here.

With the sound of blades cutting clean across the fresh ice.

With the team who knows I’ll call them out and then help them find their center.

With him.

But is that enough to build a life on?

Suddenly, I hear footsteps on the concrete behind me.

Derek Stephens drops into the seat beside me with a grunt, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the glass.

“Didn’t see you down in the staff section,” he says.

“Needed a different vantage point,” I say without looking at him.

He nods, lets a beat pass. “You here to watch or think?”

“Both.”

He glances sideways. “Want me to leave?”

“No.”

Another pause.

Then I add, “I talked to the league office yesterday.”

Derek shifts slightly. “Yeah?”

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