Page 209 of Check & Chase
“Couldn’t miss congratulating the guy who helped us win the Cup,” he explains, maneuvering to the foot of my bed. “Even if you did steal my ‘most dramatically injured’ title.”
The joke breaks the tension, drawing laughs from everyone. Emma moves to help Tyler into a chair, her physical therapist instincts apparently extending to ex-boyfriends as well as current fiancés.
“How’s your recovery going?” she asks him, her tone professional but friendly.
“Ahead of schedule,” Tyler reports. “Doctor says I might be back for training camp if everything continues progressing.”
“That’s great. The team will need you with me sidelined.”
Just then, the door swings open and Coach Barrett strides into the hospital room. “Mitchell!” he booms, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Nice to see you awake. How’s our hero feeling?”
“Oh, just peachy,” I reply dryly.
He steps closer, hand resting on the Stanley Cup beside him. “About that, Mitchell. Team owners wanted me to deliver some news personally.”
My stomach tightens, mind immediately jumping to worst-case scenarios.
“Your contract extension,” Coach continues, pulling folded papers from his jacket pocket. “Has been drafted by management. Three years, full no-trade clause, with complete medical coverage regardless of return-to-play timeline. They wanted you to know your position with the Bears is secure, no matter how recovery goes.”
I glance at Emma, but she doesn’t suspect a thing. I’ve been weighing my options with the Wolves, thinking about what comes after this season. It’s a conversation I’ve only had with a select few. Emma isn’t on that list.
“I’ll need to review it properly,” I say, appreciating the offer but not ready to commit. “A lot’s changed in the last few weeks.”
Coach nods. “Of course. Take your time. But just know that you are always wanted at the Bears.”
The relief is intense, a weight lifting that I hadn’t fully acknowledged was there. Professional hockey is brutal in its uncertainty. Injuries end careers, contracts evaporate, teams move on to younger, healthier prospects without so much as a backward glance.
“Thank you,” I manage. “That means… a lot.”
Emma’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently.
Eventually, a nurse appears to remind everyone about visiting hours, and everyone besides Emma begins filing out. Tyler lingers, waiting until everyone else is gone before speaking again.
“Listen, Mitchell,” he begins awkwardly, “I just wanted to say… what you did out there. Playing on that knee. I get it now.”
“The sacrifice for the team thing?”
He nods. “Before my injury, I don’t think I really understood what it meant to put everything on the line for something bigger than yourself.Watching you do that in the Finals… it changed my perspective on a lot of things.”
“We both paid the price,” I acknowledge, gesturing to our matching knee braces. “Worth it though.”
“For the Cup? Definitely.” He hesitates, then adds, “For perspective? Maybe even more so.”
Emma, who’s been quietly organizing my medication schedule with the nurse, returns as Tyler prepares to leave. There’s a moment of tension as they face each other—former couple, painful history, betrayal and growth all hanging in the air between them.
“Thank you for coming, Tyler,” she says finally. “It means a lot to Chase. And to me.”
He nods, seemingly relieved by her acknowledgment. “Congratulations, by the way. On the engagement. You two… it makes sense. More than we ever did.”
Her expression softens. “Thank you. And I mean it, Tyler. I’m glad your recovery is going well. You deserve a second chance.”
“Working on earning it. Day by day.”
Emma settles beside me on the edge of the bed once we’re alone, careful not to disturb my immobilized leg. “So, while you were sleeping last night, I made some calls about the house.”
“What house?” I ask, momentarily confused.
“Our house,” she clarifies. “The one we’ve been casually looking at?”
