Page 56 of Icing on Top

Miah’s gaze turned to me, and the light in his eyes dimmed. Guilt burned in my chest.

“Are you—”

“I’m gonna step outside really quick. Get some fresh air.” I was already taking a step away. “I’ll meet you at our seats.”

I left before he could say anything else, my body kicking into full flight mode now that Charlie was safe with Miah. Everyone was hurrying to get their lastminute concessions before finding their seats, and I was swimming against the flow of traffic, the press of bodies around me stifling. The closest doors led to an outdoor patio where fans could enjoy their pre-game drinks with a view of the mountains. This close to puck drop, the space was empty, so no one saw me burst through the door and gasp in a lungful of icy cold air as if I’d just been plucked from the depths of a frozen lake.

With no witnesses, the dam finally broke, warm tears cascading down my face as everything I’d bottled up for years came pouring out.

That could have been me out there on the ice. No, it should have been me. It was going to be me.

But it never would be.

An announcer would never call my name for the starting lineup. Fans wouldn’t wear my last name on the back of their jerseys. Little girls wouldn’t hang posters of me in their bedrooms. I would never live out the dream I’d clung so tight to since I was seven that it became my entire personality.

And that was the truth I hadn’t figured out how to face.

Ever since my first Mite League game, I’d been convinced that I would be a professional hockey player. If it meant moving to Canada to join the CWHL, I would have done it in a heartbeat. Then the National Women’s Hockey League had been established, and my options had opened up even more.

Until I did one thing that took it all away. The entire future I had planned since I was Charlie’s age, gone in a matter of seconds.

But that wasn’t all I’d lost. I lost friendships and a relationship that I had assumed I’d be in for the rest of my life. I lost myself. And I was one hundred percent to blame for that.

The accident had been out of my control, but everything that came after was a choice I made. And I had to live with the consequences of both.

All of the adrenaline I’d been holding in had seeped out of me and left me exhausted, my cheeks wet and cold now that my tears had stopped. I used the sleeve of the jersey to wipe the evidence away.

The crowd had thinned significantly when I returned inside, and I could hear the national anthem being sung. Slipping into the bathroom, I took advantage of it being empty to splash cold water on my face in hopes of getting rid of the puffiness. While it wasn’t perfect, it would have to do. I didn’t need to concern Miah any more than I already had.

Play had already begun by the time I made it to our section, apologizing profusely to the people I had to step in front of in order to get to Miah and Charlie.

“Zo, you missed puck drop,” Charlie pointed out.

I sent her an apologetic smile. “Bathroom line was really long,” I fibbed.

Her attention wasn’t on me, though. She was already caught back up in the game, but Miah wasn’t so easily distracted. I could see all the questions burning in his eyes. I gave a small shrug of my shoulder and did my best to give him a reassuring smile. While I wasn’t entirely okay, I was better.

His lips pressed together in a harsh line of concern and he reached out to hook his hand around my outer thigh. The one I’d broken. If he realized what he was doing, he didn’t show it, eyes returning to the ice even if the deliberate stroke of his thumb told me his thoughts were still on me. It was that tender touch that kept me anchored to the present. I may not be on the ice competing, but I was here. With Miah and Charlie.

And that was more than enough for me.

They were more than enough.

Chapter 23

Jeremiah

I’d spent the last four years tucking Charlie into bed by myself, minus the nights Wes visited, but tonight, Zoe had decided to join me. Charlie was still keyed up from the game, especially since the Vortex had won, so Zoe had offered to read her a story. They were curled up together against the headboard, Charlie’s head on Zoe’s shoulder as they read about a boy with a dragon in his desk.

“If you had a desk dragon, what would it hoard?” Zoe asked, her voice soft and low.

Charlie pursed her lips as she thought. “Blue crayons.”

“That’s very specific.”

I grabbed her toes through the blanket and wiggled them. “That probably means your desk needs to be cleaned, if you’re losing things.”

Charlie jerked her feet away from me with a giggle, burrowing further into Zoe’s side. Zoe wrapped an arm around her protectively.