Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ROSE
Idon’t know what I expected sitting in the family and friends’ box to feel like, but it wasn’t this.
My heart is pounding so hard it’s echoing in my ears, my palms slick with nerves as I follow the usher through the corridor.
The noise from the rink bleeds through the walls, the deep roar of a crowd that knows exactly where it’s going tonight.
I clutch the strap of my bag tighter, acutely aware of how out of place I feel in my jeans and jumper surrounded by people who look like they belong here.
Yes, I’ve been her plenty of times, either to watch games or the to photograph the team, but this feels bigger now.
My friend Clara, squeezes my arm. “You’re going to be fine,” she murmurs. “You look great.”
I nod, even though my stomach is flipping violently. This isn’t just another game. This is his world.
When we step into the box, the lights hit me first. Bright, white, overwhelming. The ice stretches out below us, impossibly smooth, players are already circling during warm-ups. And then I see him.
Callum.
Helmet off, hair damp, jaw set in that focused way that makes my chest ache. He looks up, it’s as though he feels me before he sees me, and when our eyes meet, something in his expression shifts. Softens. He lifts his stick slightly. Just for me, and I swear I see him wink.
My breath catches and my cheeks pink, and suddenly the noise fades into the background. The whispers at uni. Talia’s posts. The comments and the fear that I don’t belong here. None of it matters anymore. Right now, I belong to him. And that’s enough.
The game is fast and brutal and beautiful. I barely sit the whole first period, cheering when everyone else cheers, gripping the rail when Callum slams someone clean into the boards as if it’s nothing. Every time he skates past our side of the rink, my eyes follow him automatically.
I can feel people clocking me. Not in a cruel way. More curious and assessing. Callum’s girlfriend. The thought is dizzying.
During the second intermission, Clara nudges me. “I’m grabbing a drink. You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll just go to the loo.”
The corridor outside the box is quieter, the noise muffled now. I let out a slow easy breath as I head toward the restrooms, replaying Callum’s smile in my head like a talisman.
That’s when I feel it. The shift in the air. That instinctive prickle between my shoulder blades that tells me I’m not alone.
“Enjoying the view?”
The voice is smooth. I freeze and then slowly turn.
Talia stands a few feet away, arms folded, perfectly styled, wearing a coat that probably costs more than my rent. Her lips curve into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh,” she says lightly. “You do exist off Instagram.”
My stomach drops, but I force my spine straight. “I don’t want any trouble,” I say evenly.
She laughs. A sharp, delighted sound. “Trouble?” She tilts her head. “Sweetheart, you are the trouble.”
I take a breath. “I’m just here to watch the game.”
“Of course you are.” Her gaze flicks over me, slow and deliberate, like she’s cataloguing my flaws. “Family box and all. Bold move.”
“Callum invited me.”
Her smile tightens. “Did he.”
I don’t rise to it. “You should leave me alone.”
She steps closer. Close enough that I can smell her perfume.
“I tried,” she says quietly. “I honestly did. But then he revoked my access.” Her eyes glitter. “Did you know I used to sit right where you are? Every home game. For years.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, though I don’t know why I’m apologising.
Her laugh is cold. “No, you’re not.”
She circles me slowly, heels clicking against the floor. “Do you know how humiliating it is to be turned away? To be told you’re no longer welcome somewhere you helped make home?”
My chest tightens. “That’s between you and him.”
“Oh, it is,” she agrees. “But you made it personal the moment you crawled into his bed.”
Anger flares hot and sharp. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “I get to talk to you however I want. You’re the placeholder.”
“That’s not true.”
She stops directly in front of me. “Isn’t it?”
I hold her gaze, even though my hands are shaking. “He chose me.”
Her smile turns vicious. “He chose distraction. You’re convenient. Safe.” She leans in. “Temporary.”
Something inside me steadies. “No,” I say. “You don’t know what we are.”
“I know him,” she snaps. “I know his patterns. His guilt. His need to feel like the good guy.” Her voice drops. “Which is why you should ask him.”
A chill slides down my spine. “Ask him what?”
She smiles slowly. “What he’s hiding.”
My pulse thunders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you will.” Her gaze is gleeful now. “Ask him why he really came into your life. Ask him what happened before you met. Ask him why you, Rose. Because men like Callum don’t suddenly fall for girls like you without a reason.”
“Girls like me?” My voice shakes despite myself.
She looks me up and down again. “Normal. Invisible. Easy to adore without consequences.”
“That’s enough,” I say, my throat tight.
She steps even closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
“When this blows up, and it will, you’ll realise I was trying to warn you.
He’ll get bored. Or the guilt will get too much for him to carry.
He’ll get scared he’s made the wrong decision…
again. And you’ll be the one left wondering how you didn’t see it coming. ”
My eyes burn. “You’re cruel,” I whisper.
“Yes,” she says calmly. “Because I loved him. And he humiliated me for you.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” I declare.
“No,” she agrees. “But you’re enjoying it anyway.”
Footsteps approach, voices murmuring.
Talia straightens, mask sliding back into place. “Enjoy the rest of the game,” she says sweetly. “While it lasts.”
She walks away as though she hasn’t just torn something open inside me. I stand there shaking, heart pounding, her words echoing over and over.
Ask him what secret he’s hiding.
By the time I make it back to the box, my hands are numb. Callum looks up immediately, concern flashing across his face. Of course he can tell.
I don’t leave during the game. I can’t. I plaster on a smile, cheer when everyone else does, clap when he scores. But inside, doubt coils tight and ugly. When the final buzzer sounds and the crowd erupts, I barely hear it. I’m still hearing her voice.
When Callum reaches me afterward, still in his gear, breathless and flushed with victory, he takes one look at my face and everything else disappears.
“Hey,” he says urgently, hands on my arms. “What happened?”
I shake my head. “Later.”
“No,” he says softly but firmly. “Now.”
The concern in his eyes nearly breaks me.
“She was here,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens instantly. “Did she touch you?”
“No.”
“Did she say something?”
I nod and tell him everything. The placeholder. The secret. The warning. The way his face darkens makes my chest ache.
“I’m so sorry,” he says fiercely, pulling me into him, arms solid and warm around me. “She doesn’t get to do this to you.”
“Is she right?” I ask quietly. “About you hiding something.”
He goes still for a second. Not enough that anyone else would notice. But I do and my heart stutters.
He cups my face. “Whatever she’s trying to imply, it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I choose you.”
I want to believe him. As he holds me, cameras flashing somewhere nearby, I cling to him and tell myself that love is stronger than bitterness. That secrets don’t always mean betrayal and this doesn’t have to break us.
But doubt has been planted. And I don’t know yet how deep its roots go.