Page 117 of Second Sin

I squeeze her hand back in quiet acknowledgement.

They know. Everything. I told them over coffee and too many pauses a month ago. I expected pushback. Disappointment, maybe. But there was just acceptance and joy for me.

They asked to meet him.

Sebastian got them tickets. Good ones. He was nervous about it, more than I’ve ever seen him, but they liked him. Even Ron, who’s slower to warm, said afterward that he seemed like someone who’d fight for the people he loves.

He will.

He is.

The media storm passed eventually. It took a full two weeks of PR damage control, a press conference he didn’t want to do, and more vulnerability than he’s ever shown in public. But he owned it. Told the truth. Apologized. Didn’t deflect.

And after, when the cameras were gone and the headlines quieted, he did something harder—he stayed. Showed up. Started therapy. Let people see the bruises he usually hides behind bravado and shut doors.

He’s still working through it. Still has nights when the shadows get loud. But he talks to me now. Lets me in instead of locking me out.

And maybe that’s the part that changed everything.

Because it’s not just about surviving anymore.

It’s about building something.

With him.

The crowd swells as the clock winds down, every slap of the puck echoing like a drumbeat in my chest. The final seconds bleed out, and when the buzzer sounds, the place comes apart.

Hands in the air. Voices raw. The Annihilators win.

I’m already on my feet, clapping, the sting in my palms nothing compared to the ache in my cheeks from smiling so hard. Beth’s beside me, laughing. Ron lets out a sharp whistle that cuts through the noise.

Sebastian skates closer to our section.Helmet off. Sweat-damp hair pushed back. Eyes scanning the crowd.

And then they find me.

Just for a second. A glance. A nod. The barest hint of a smile.

But it’s mine.

I broke every rule for him. Risked my job. My reputation. My heart.

And it could’ve ruined me.

But it didn’t.

Love—the real kind—doesn’t always look like safety.

Sometimes, it looks like standing at the edge of something wild and choosing to step into it anyway.

And I did.

And I’d do it again.

CHAPTER 45

SEBASTIAN

Olivia’s arm slips through mine like it’s second nature. No hesitation. No ask. Just hers. Her shoulder knocks into mine with every few steps, but neither of us bothers to fix the rhythm. It’s crooked. It fits.

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