Page 50 of ICED
We sit like that for a long while. No pressure. No rushing.
Eventually, he gathers his things and stands, lingering by the door.
“I’ll text you,” he says. “About skate sizes. We’ll go slow.”
“Slow’s good,” I say.
He opens the door, but before he leaves, he glances back.
“Maya?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant what I said earlier. I’m not going anywhere.”
And for the first time, that doesn’t terrify me. It makes me hope.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JACKO
The locker room still smells like sweat and victory from the last game, and the sting of menthol from the physio benches cuts through it all. My gear’s drying in the corner, and I’ve just come off a full-ice drill that reminded my legs they’ve only recently recovered. The burn in my shoulder is manageable, but I’m aware of it. Always aware of it.
Murphy slaps me on the back with a towel as I sit on the bench, gulping water.
“You’re looking steadier,” he says, tugging off his own pads. “Could almost pass for a real player again.”
“Cheers, mate. Coming from the second-best forward on the team, that means a lot.”
He laughs and leans against the lockers, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. “So what’s got you smiling like you won the bloody lottery today?”
I hesitate. Then I say it. Quietly. “I’m taking Lila out on the ice today.”
Murphy whistles low. “Maya’s letting you?”
“Yeah,” I say. “She said yes.”
He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t joke. Just studies me for a beat, then sinks onto the bench beside me.
“That’s big,” he says.
“It is,” I say. “Feels like we’ve turned a corner perhaps.”
He nods, then leans his head back against the cool tile. “You still thinking what I think you’re thinking? About Maya’s past?”
I exhale. The words have been sitting like stones in my gut for weeks.
“I think her ex hurt her,” I say. “Not just emotionally. There’s something in the way she flinches sometimes. The way she apologises before she speaks. It’s small, but it’s always there.”
Murphy’s jaw ticks. He’s about to be a father. That changes how he hears things.
“And Lila?” he asks softly.
“She’s bright. Funny. But she’s learned to read rooms like an adult. And she sticks close to Maya like she’s afraid of what’ll happen if she doesn’t.”
We sit in silence for a long while. Teammates and trainers bustle around us, but for once, neither of us moves to join them.
“I don’t want to push her,” I say. “I just want her to feel safe. Both of them.”
