Page 124 of Unraveling Rain
If he knows something, I need him to tell me.
I can’t keep living in this agony.
“I’ve seen Rain a couple of times,” Gio finally says. “Sheseemsokay. But you know Rain—she’s not going to come to me if something is going on in her life.”
I nod, though he can’t see it.
“What I’m about to tell you might cost me a night on the couch,” Gio says. “But you called, and I like you, so I’m going to risk it.”
I chuckle at that. I honestly can’t picture those two arguing about anything.
“The only thing my wife has shared about Rain,” he continues, “is that she’s been working hard training the new sous-chef. She told the whole staff she’s stepping down to live part-time in Raleigh.”
My brows furrow, and my heart kicks up.
She’s still planning to move?
If that’s true, why the hell hasn’t she told me? I would be fucking ecstatic to know she hasn’t changed her mind about us.
“That’s all?” I ask, clinging to the hope that he’s got more—anything—that’ll explain her silence.
“Yeah, that’s all I know. I can’t say that’s the only thing going on, but… I remember one night, right after you guys got back from your trip, Ruin cried herself to sleep. I asked her what was wrong, and she just hugged me and didn’t say anything. Maybe she had a rough day with the babies, or it was something else entirely. I really don’t know. I can ask her again tonight, if you want.”
My mind flashes back to Rain, the shift in her demeanor as she looked at her phone—the way she shut down afterward.
Maybe she finallytold Ruin about her ex.
But I don’t want Gio to get in trouble. He’s already doing more than enough.
“You’ve done enough by letting me vent, Gio. Thank you.”
We say our goodbyes, and I park in the players’ lot, killing the engine with a sigh.
I sit there for a moment, then close my eyes.
I picture Rain’s smile.
Her laugh. Her touch.
Then I push it all to the back of my mind.
Because when I hit the ice today, I need to be locked in. Clear. Sharp.
Tomorrow’s match is coming. I’ll give it everything I’ve got.
Hopefully, she’ll be there when the blackout ends and the lights come up.
The moment I’ve been striving toward—the one that pulled me through every grueling rehab session—is finally here. I’m back. I’m ready. And I’m pumped to hit the ice again.
I jump in place, rolling my shoulders as we wait in the tunnel to be announced. Adrenaline is already building, but I try to keep it in check. Focused. Controlled.
I usually don’t check my phone before a game—I’ve never needed to—but today I did. When I didn’t see any messages from Rain, my heart deflated.
No “Good luck.”
No “I’m proud of you.”
No sign she’s coming.
