Page 385 of Power Play

“It should be.”

Gloria tapped the first folder. “We’re doing this cleanly. Each organization gets private time with you. Chris stays, and I stay because you’re under contract with Flint. Any future arrangement has to respect that agreement. Coach Waters can remain unless you prefer otherwise.”

“He stays.”

Waters gave me one short nod.

“Your Frost contract runs through the end of this season,” Gloria continued. “Nobody is removing you from this roster tomorrow. Any professional agreement you sign tonight takes effect after Flint’s season ends. The organization may require medical testing, media obligations, development calls, or occasional meetings before then, but you finish here.”

Relief moved through me because I wasn’t ready to leave Flint tomorrow.

Kimball Falls was different.

When the Frost season ended, I would move wherever I signed. I wouldn’t keep an apartment in Kimball Falls and spend weekends driving back toward people and places that held Charm’s fingerprints. I needed a city where I could buy groceries without remembering what she liked, a bathroom without her products, and a bookstore where no one knew the woman who’d taught me to picture her inside every poem.

I wanted enough distance to become someone she’d never touched.

Chris caught whatever crossed my face. “You understand this is real, right? Whichever contract you sign becomes your professional future.”

“I understand.”

Gloria closed one folder. “Washington is ready.”

The meetings blurred at the edges, but the differences remained clear.

Washington offered prestige, more guaranteed money, a respected development system, and enough national attention to make my name larger before I played my first professional game. They talked about speed, aggression, marketability, and the identity I carried onto the ice.

The offer I once believed I wanted most sat across the table from me, but all I could picture was the distance. Washington meant being too far from Cade, Easton, Briggs, and Rider. It meant being too far from KFU and the people who drove two hours to stand in a frozen parking lot because I sounded wrong over the phone.

Leaving Charm didn’t mean leaving all of them.

Pittsburgh offered structure. Their representatives brought a precise development plan, projected line placement, strength targets, and enough film to explain every weakness before I mentioned it. They were smart, their offer was solid, and they made me feel like a player they intended to sharpen.

Then Milwaukee walked into the room.

Their representatives placed numbers in front of me that made even Chris stop moving. The guaranteed portion nearly matched Washington’s. Their housing allowance was better than Pittsburgh’s, the medical coverage began earlier, and their performance incentives were aggressive enough to change my life again if I played the way I had tonight.

They had a clear path for me on the left wing.

They didn’t talk about sanding down my temper or turning El Cuchillo into something easier to market. They showed me film and explained how my speed fit their transition game, where they wanted me during the forecheck, and which parts of my defensive work made them keep watching after the first goal.

They had done their homework.

Their director of player development closed the folder. “We know Washington has prestige and Pittsburgh has a strong system. We’re offering you the clearest path to playing time and enough financial security that you can focus on hockey.”

I glanced toward Chris. His expression remained neutral, but one finger tapped twice against the table.

Very fucking good.

The Milwaukee representative continued. “You’ll finish the season in Flint. After that, we want you relocated and training with our development staff as soon as your contract permits.”

“How soon?”

“We can have housing ready before you report in March.”

The answer moved through me with an unexpected sense of relief. Milwaukee offered a clean apartment in a new city without memories waiting inside either. It was close enough for me to reach my boys without getting on a plane and far enough that Charm couldn’t appear at my door in twenty minutes because she couldn’t survive another fight.

Distance without exile. A future without her.