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Maybe I never should have accepted this job, this lie, this life.
It's a sentiment that stays with me even when Gio scores a goal, and the crowd erupts into cheers.
I should be celebrating. The goal turns the entire game around.
The Blades are skating circles around the other team, making this game look like a practice drill. Gio's on fire, and the crowd is roaring with every goal.
But Veronica's words hang over me like a dark cloud, smothering any joy within me.
Victory is in the air, but it tastes bitter now. I glance around the arena, watching everyone lost in their own bubbles of happiness.
Parents with their kids, friends high-fiving, even the guy selling pretzels looks like he just won the lottery.
The final buzzer sounds, signaling the Blades' win, and the crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause, but I can't bring myself to join in.
I make my way down to the locker room and find Gio already there, a towel draped around his neck as he chats with the trainer.
"Great game," I say, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"Yeah, it was," Gio replies with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "But you don't seem too happy about it."
I shrug. "Just tired, I guess."
He studies me for a moment before clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Well, thanks for coming, Gabs. You're like my good luck charm on the ice." He hugs me carefully before pulling back. "I only wish Jake's ass was here to see me score that hat trick."
I muster a smile and give him a nod. "I do, too."
He grins, looking more like himself, and turns back to his conversation with the trainer. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to push away the complicated mess of thoughts swirling in my mind.
With one last look around the bustling locker room, I slip out the door and into the humid night air.
The roar of the crowd still echoes in my ears, a strange contrast to the stillness outside. I head to my car, ready to go home and forget about the game.
But as I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot, I can't help but feel like something is missing. The excitement from the win should be enough to carry me through the rest of the night, but I can't shake this feeling of emptiness.
And then it hits me.
Jacob would have been at this game. He would have been skating beside Gio and celebrating with us afterward.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the driveway of my suburban Chicago townhome. I turn off the engine and sit for a moment, just breathing. I sigh deeply as I reach for my keys, the cool metal oddly grounding in my palm.
Walking up to my front door, a wave of resignation passes over me.
Jacob's silence after my confession about his paternity hits me hard. It's like a door closing forever, locking away any hope I had that we could mend things.
The thought of mourning the end of whatever we had brings my mind to the dark chocolate that's been sitting in my kitchen for days, waiting for the perfect moment of indulgence.
Maybe tonight is that night.
With a faint, humorless chuckle and shake of my head, I fumble with my keys, only to promptly drop them right by the welcome mat.
Of course. Just my luck.
Bending down these days feels like trying to win a gold medal in gymnastics…impossible and slightly ridiculous.
I place one hand on my swollen belly for balance and crouch down, grunting with the effort.
Just as my fingers brush the cool metal, someone else's hand swoops in, picking up the keys.
