I lace my fingers through hers. “We'll figure out the rest later. But right now, please. Come with me.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I'm already pulling her toward the door. Cole stops pacing when I open the door.
Avery tries to pull away. “This is your moment. I can't?—”
“You can.” I squeeze her hand. “Please. I need you there.”
Cole looks between us, then nods. “Alright. Let's move. We're already late.”
The walk to the media room is a blur.
“This is insane,” Avery mutters, but she doesn't let go of my hand.
The media room is packed. Cameras are everywhere, the lights so bright it's disorienting. I take my seat at the long table, and I pull Avery down into the chair beside me.
She tries to protest, but I keep hold of her hand, making it clear that she's staying.
The questions start immediately.
“Cole, how does it feel to captain a Stanley Cup-winning team?”
“Liam, take us through that game-winning goal.”
“Jake, this is your first Cup. What does it mean?”
We answer on autopilot, the standard responses about hard work and team effort and the honor of winning. But my mind is elsewhere, already planning what I need to say.
Finally, there's a lull in questions.
“Actually,” I interrupt, “I'd like to say something. If that's okay.”
The room goes quiet. Every camera swings toward me.
Cole leans over. “You sure about this?”
“Never been more sure of anything.”
He nods and sits back, giving me space.
I take a breath and look directly into the cameras.
“First, thank you to the fans and the media for supporting us all season. For believing in this team. For showing up game after game. We couldn't have done this without you.”
Standard thank you speech. Everyone is nodding along.
“But I also need to address something. Something personal.” My hand finds Avery's under the table. “A lot of you have followed my career for years. You've seen me at my worst.”
The room is completely silent now.
“And this season, you saw me change. You saw me clean up, settle down, and start acting like a professional. And someof you loved it. Some of you hated it. Some of you blamed my girlfriend”—I squeeze Avery's hand—“for trying to change me.”
Cameras are flashing like crazy now.
“But here's the truth. Nobody changed me. Nobody forced me to be different. I changed because I wanted to. Because I was tired of living my life based on what you all thought of me.”
The energy in the room shifts.
“Avery didn't ruin me. She didn't make me boring or less fun or any of the things people have said. She just helped me see that I could be more than the reputation I'd built. That I could be better. For myself. Not for cameras or headlines.”
