They exchange a look, but neither of them says anything. Landry nods, and Coach claps me on the shoulder—hard enough to make me stumble a little—before heading for the door.
“See you tomorrow, Wesford,” he says over his shoulder. “And you better be present this time.”
I stand there for a moment after they leave, staring at the empty room. The truth is, I’ve been playing like I’m a rookie. Like I’m just waiting for something to click back into place. But they’re right.
It’s time to stop waiting. Time to stop letting everything outside this rink dictate who I am here.
I’m a goalie. The best one this team has ever had.
And it’s time I started playing like it.
Chapter Forty-Three
Haydn:Sorry.
Ophelia: For?
Haydn:Leaving before you left me. Pausing because I couldn’t face the alternative. Maybe because the fear is stronger than the love I have for you.
Ophelia: But also because hockey is more important, and you don’t want this to throw your game.
Haydn:No, Pia. If I had to choose between the game and you, it’s always you, baby. Nothing is more important than you—except maybe the fear of losing you.
Ophelia: You still think I’m going to choose him?
Haydn:He’s the love of your life. Of course I do. And I should be able to live with that, you know? Because all I want isfor you to be happy. But there are days I want to swing by the house and beg you to choose me. Choose me because I can’t see a future without you in it.
Ophelia: You hurt me. You left, and you hurt me.
Haydn:I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to be a placeholder. And I feel like you’ve been keeping me in limbo.
Ophelia: It’s not like that. I just . . . Constantine signed an NDA on my behalf after the accident. I was in critical condition and he was the one making decisions for me. This prohibits me to talk not only about the accident but also my relationship with Keane. My brother thought that once Keane woke up, it wouldn’t matter. After his pretend funeral, his parents reminded me of the NDA. I can’t talk in depth about my relationship with him, the accident, or disclose much of what I know about him.
Haydn: That’s . . . enforceable? I mean, they’re dead. Does it even matter anymore?
Ophelia: Probably not. I’ll check with Constantine and a lawyer. Then I’ll ask Keane if it’s okay.
Haydn: He’ll probably blink once because I threatened him. I told him if I found out he hurt you in any way, I’d kill him.
Ophelia: He never hurt me, but just so you know, he’s talking more. So it’ll probably be a “maybe.” That’s one of his favorite words.
Haydn: Interesting. Are you taking care of yourself?
Ophelia: I am. I have to go to the doctor, by the way. Apparently, I need a physical and some vaccines to take the Andes assignment. Something about high altitude and diseases.
Haydn: Let me know if you want me to go with you. I know how much you hate doctors.
Ophelia: Thank you, I’ll probably go next month.
Haydn: Go out on a date with me.
Ophelia: I’ll think about it.
Chapter Forty-Four
Ophelia
The sunlight filteringthrough the floor-to-ceiling windows bathes the studio in a soft, golden glow, casting elongated patterns across the polished concrete floor. My photographs, painstakingly curated over the past few hours, hang on the pristine white walls, each one demanding attention.
