Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Scout
The condo smells like garlic bread and marinara sauce. I've been cooking all afternoon, prepping enough food to feed a small army. Which is good, because that's basically what's coming over tonight.
"How many people did you invite again?" Silas asks from the kitchen doorway. He's wearing jeans and a Havoc hoodie, hair still damp from his post-practice shower.
"The Coven, Hunter and Juliet, Ryan and Wren, Beck, Jett, Thorne and Mollie..."
"Thorne and Mollie aren't dating."
"They're not not dating either." I stir the sauce. "She's coming. He's coming. If they happen to arrive at the same time and spend the whole night bickering like an old married couple, that's not my business."
Silas grins and wraps his arms around me from behind. "You're meddling."
"I'm facilitating." I lean back against his chest. "There's a difference."
"If you say so." He kisses my neck. "Need help with anything?"
"You can set the table. We're doing buffet style so people can just grab what they want."
We work together in comfortable silence. Silas sets out plates and silverware while I finish the salad. The garlic bread goes in the oven. Wine bottles get opened and left to breathe. Everything's ready by the time the doorbell rings.
Hunter and Juliet arrive first, as predicted. Hunter's carrying a case of beer and Juliet's got a bottle of expensive wine.
"We brought provisions," Hunter announces, heading straight for the fridge.
"Make yourself at home," I say dryly.
"Already did."
The rest of the group trickles in over the next twenty minutes.
Ryan and Wren, her hand resting protectively on her small bump.
Beck with a bottle of whiskey that probably costs more than my car.
Jett with his easy smile and terrible dad jokes.
Jessa and Ivy together, already gossiping about something.
Thorne shows up last, looking grumpy. Mollie arrives thirty seconds later, flushed and apologizing for being late.
"Traffic was terrible," she says breathlessly.
"I just drove here. Traffic was fine," Thorne says.
"Well, maybe you drive like a maniac and I drive like a normal person."
"I drive the speed limit."
"The speed limit is a suggestion, not a challenge."
They're still bickering when I hand them each a glass of wine. Juliet catches my eye and smirks. I mouth "told you so" and she rolls her eyes.
Dinner is chaotic in the best way. We're crowded around the living room, plates balanced on laps, conversation flowing.
Hunter tells embarrassing stories about Silas in juniors.
Juliet shares horror stories from dealing with difficult sponsors.
Wren glows while talking about baby names.
Beck and Ryan debate defensive strategies while Jett makes increasingly elaborate plans to prank the entire coaching staff.
Silas sits beside me on the couch, his hand resting on my knee. Every so often he squeezes gently, like he's reminding himself I'm real. I lean into him, feeling settled and happy in a way I didn't know I could be.
"This is nice," Jessa says, refilling her wine glass. "We should do this more often."
"I'm down," Ivy agrees. "I have a pizza dough recipe I’ve been itching to try out."
"We could do it at our house," Juliet offers. "We have that huge dining room we never use."
"Only if Scout cooks," Hunter says through a mouthful of garlic bread. "This is incredible."
I smile. "Silas helped."
"I opened wine bottles," Silas specifies. "And chopped all the vegetables. Scout did everything else."
The conversation shifts to upcoming games, then to holiday plans, then to Mollie's ongoing campaign to get the team more active on social media.
Thorne argues that social media is a waste of time.
Mollie argues that brand engagement is crucial for fan retention.
They're both getting increasingly heated when Juliet leans in and whispers something to Jessa.
Jessa's eyes go wide. She nods, then whispers something back. They're both looking at me with barely contained excitement.
"What?" I ask suspiciously.
"Nothing," Juliet says innocently.
"You're terrible liars."
"We're excellent liars," Jessa protests. "You just know us too well."
"Spill."
Juliet and Jessa exchange glances. Then Juliet grins. "We've been asked to help someone shop for something big and shiny."
My stomach flips. "Big and shiny."
"Very big. Very shiny." Jessa's practically bouncing. "And we have opinions."
"Strong opinions," Juliet adds. "About cut and clarity and setting style."
I glance at Silas. He's suddenly very interested in his beer bottle, avoiding eye contact. His ears are red.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say primly.
"Sure you don't." Juliet winks. "Just saying, when the time comes, we've got your back."
"And we have excellent taste," Jessa adds.
"The best taste," Juliet agrees.
Before I can respond, Beck's phone buzzes. He glances at it, then his eyebrows shoot up. "Holy shit."
"What?" Ryan asks.
Beck looks up, his expression stunned. "Enzo Morelli just got arrested."
The room goes silent. Everyone turns to look at me. I feel Silas tense beside me, his hand tightening on my knee.
"What for?" I ask. My voice sounds strange to my own ears.
"Betting scandal. Federal charges. Apparently he's been taking bribes to tank games for years." Beck scrolls through his phone. "Says here he could be looking at serious prison time. Multiple counts of fraud, conspiracy, racketeering..."
The words wash over me. Enzo. Prison. All those years he spent building his reputation as a successful agent, and this whole time he was dirty.
"Scout?" Silas's voice is gentle. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I realize I'm smiling. "I'm actually great."
"You're smiling," Jessa points out.
"I know. Is that bad?"
"Hell no," Hunter says. "That asshole had it coming."
Juliet raises her wine glass. "To karma being a bitch."
"To karma," everyone echoes, raising their glasses.
I clink my glass against Silas's. "I should feel something, right? Like, shocked or upset or vindicated or something."
"What do you feel?" he asks.
I think about it. Really think about it. Enzo's arrest should be this huge moment. The man who made my life miserable, who made me feel small and worthless, who controlled every aspect of our relationship, is finally facing consequences.
But all I feel is... relief. And maybe a little bit of satisfaction.
"I feel free," I say finally. "Like this is the final proof that leaving him was the right choice."
"It was the right choice," Silas says firmly.
"I know. But now everyone else knows too." I lean into him. "Everyone's going to see him for what he really is. Not the charming agent. Not the former hockey star. Just a criminal who was willing to destroy people's careers for money."
"You think any of his clients knew?" Beck asks.
Silas shakes his head. "No way. Enzo was too smart for that. He kept everything compartmentalized."
"Well, he's screwed now," Ryan says. "Federal charges? He's going away for a long time."
The conversation shifts to speculation about the case, about which games might have been affected, about whether any current players were involved.
I tune most of it out, focusing instead on the feeling of Silas's arm around me, the warmth of friends surrounding us, the life I've built that has nothing to do with Enzo anymore.
"You really okay?" Silas murmurs in my ear.
"Better than okay." I turn to look at him. "A year ago, this news would have destroyed me. I would have spent weeks obsessing over it, wondering what I could have done differently, blaming myself somehow."
"And now?"
"Now I'm just grateful I got out when I did." I kiss his cheek. "And grateful I found you."
His eyes soften. "Pretty Girl..."
"I mean it. You helped me remember who I am. You never tried to make me smaller or easier to manage. You just..." I struggle to find the words. "You just loved me. The real me."
"That's the only version worth loving."
We're interrupted by Thorne and Mollie arguing about something. She's gesturing wildly with her wine glass and he's got that stubborn set to his jaw that means he's not backing down. Juliet's filming them on her phone while Hunter provides commentary.
"They're going to kill each other or sleep together," Jessa observes. "Fifty-fifty odds."
"I've got money on sleep together," Ivy says.
"Same," Wren agrees.
"You're all delusional," Mollie calls out. "I would rather die."
"Noted," Thorne says flatly.
The party goes late. People start filtering out around eleven, promising to do this again soon. Hugs and goodbyes and tipsy declarations of friendship fill the doorway. Finally it's just me and Silas, surrounded by empty wine bottles and dirty dishes.
"I'll help clean up," he offers.
"Tomorrow." I'm too tired and content to care about the mess. "Let's just go to bed."
We brush our teeth side by side at the bathroom sink. He makes faces at me in the mirror and I flick water at him. It's domestic and silly and perfect.
In bed, Silas pulls me against his chest. His heartbeat is steady under my ear.
"Today was good," he says.
"It really was."
"I like having everyone here. Felt like family."
"It felt like home." I press a kiss to his chest. "Our home."
"Yeah." His arms tighten around me. "Our home. Our family. Our life."
I think about Enzo in a jail cell somewhere, finally facing consequences for his actions. I think about the girl I used to be, trapped in a marriage that was slowly killing her spirit. I think about how far I've come, how much I've built, how happy I am.
"I have everything I want," I whisper into the darkness.
"Me too, Pretty Girl." Silas kisses the top of my head. "Me too."
We fall asleep tangled together, surrounded by the evidence of a life well-lived. Good friends. Meaningful work. A love that doesn't require me to disappear.
Enzo's arrest doesn't change anything about my life. That's the most beautiful part.
I already won. I've been winning for months now.
And I'm never looking back.