Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
Okay, I have no idea what the sportscasters are saying, but it’s not that.
They don’t even know we’re dating. No one does. I wish they did.
Right now, all I can think about is finding her.
She’s here.
She flew to another country—I know it’s Canada, but it still counts.
She wore my jersey and looked at me like I was the only person in the entire arena.
I spent the last three hours pretending I wasn’t looking for her in the crowd. Failed at that. Still, I couldn’t spot her.
I strip off my gear in a daze, the chaos of the locker room washing over me. Guys celebrating, music blasting, Volk doing his post-win interview in the corner.
I’m moving on autopilot. Skates off. Pads. Base layers peeled away.
I take the quickest shower of my life. When I’m hopping on one foot trying to dress just as fast, Fox nudges my side. “Summer still here?”
“I hope so.”
“I’ll cover for you.” He shoves my shoulder, grinning. “Go find your girl.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I’m out of the locker room before most of the guys are even dressed, phone in hand, texting her to ask where she is. But I don’t wait for a response; I head toward the family lounge first. It’s on the second level, tucked behind the main concourse.
When I don’t find her there, I go toward marketing and PR. I know this building like the back of my hand, but the hallways are packed with the usual post-game frenzy, so it takes longer than I’d like to get over there.
I’m guessing if she’s here, it’s a double-duty trip, and she’s probably gotten roped into press.
I stick my head into a couple of conference rooms. She’s not in any of them.
If she’s not here, maybe she’s still down near the tunnel. Even though I checked right after the game. Maybe we’re just missing each other.
I groan, pace clipped, as I head back toward the elevators. A door flings open, and a little girl cuts me off, running and giggling, closely followed by a woman in pointy black heels.
“Vanessa.”
We both freeze.
“Oh, hi, Miles. Congratulations on the win.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I rub at the back of my neck. “Uh, sorry about the loss?” It comes out more question than sympathy.
Vanessa laughs, and it only makes me miss Summer more. No one’s laugh compares to hers. No one’s smile. Or the way she pulls both out of me without trying.
“Who are you?” The little girl looks up at me. She has her mom’s green eyes and her dad’s jet-black hair.
“He’s an old friend of Mommy’s,” Vanessa says, pulling her close. She looks back at me. “How’ve you been?”
“Really good, thanks. And you?”
“Great.” She brushes a hand through her daughter’s hair, smiling.
David Park, my old GM, rounds the corner. Tall. Late-forties. Expensive suit. A little more gray in his hair, but he still looks exactly the same.
He reaches Vanessa and sets a hand on her waist. “King. Hell of a game.”
The girl starts fussing, tugging on the sleeves of his suit jacket. Something about an iPad and a cartoon.
“Come here, princess.” David picks her up. He steps back a few feet, and she does her best to whisper, “Who is that tall guy?”
David chuckles and points to a team photo on the wall, back when I was on it. The hallway is lined with framed pictures, one for each year since the franchise was founded. “There he is. Five years ago, he was on Daddy’s team.”
Five years ago, I was traded.
“I’m gonna be five next!” The girl raises her hands.
“You are. But you’ve got almost a full year to be four.” He smiles at her, then points to the photo from the year before. “And here he is again.”
“There you are, Daddy!” She grabs for the frame.
I thought I’d feel something more, seeing them. The happy family. The kid. Though I’m not sure what I expected.
There was a version of this that could’ve been mine. I used to think about that more, but it’s been a while since it even crossed my mind.
The day Vanessa told me she was pregnant, it was like a knife to the gut. Like someone cut me open and watched all my pain ooze out.
It was less than a month after our breakup. She’d come to Chicago to pick up the rest of her stuff. She never brought much to begin with, so everything fit into one big suitcase.
We were standing in the hallway of my old apartment, doing that awkward thing where you’re supposed to say goodbye but can’t find the words. Then she ran to the guest bathroom, and I followed. I rubbed steady circles into her back while she threw up her breakfast.
She flushed the toilet and sat back on her heels. When she turned to me, her eyes were red-rimmed and watery. She huffed a laugh before blurting, “I’m pregnant. I didn’t want to tell you like this.”
Was she ever planning to tell me?
A million things spun through my head, but the first thing that came out was, “Is it mine?”
I wasn’t sure what I wanted the answer to be, but when she told me “no,” relief didn’t follow. Only more loss. More guilt and regret.
Everything I wanted, given to someone else—what, weeks after we broke up? Did it start before that? I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered.
I’d never told anyone about that day. Not Fox, not Volk, not Tara, or my family. Some things you carry alone because saying them out loud means admitting how much they cost you.
I want to tell Summer.
Vanessa clears her throat, pulling me back. I refocus on David and his daughter down the hall, then on her again.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I shake my head, brows furrowing. “I’m not following.”
“For what happened between us—”
“We don’t have to dig that back up.” I tuck my hands into my pockets.
We’ve gone five years without talking about it. Why bother now?
She shifts her weight, folding one arm across her middle and gripping her opposite elbow. “I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t—”
“Can I just say this? It’s been weighing on me. I’ve thought about coming over to you so many times over the years, but I always chicken out.”
I dip my chin, and she continues, “I didn’t handle anything well back then, Mil.”
I hold back a cringe at the nickname I never liked.
“I wasn’t happy, but that wasn’t on you.
” She shakes her head. “I was far away from my friends and family for the first time. No job. I left my career to follow you. You had hockey, and I had you. But you can’t rely on any one person for your happiness—well, unless that person is yourself.
But I did back then, and when we started to drift, you were there… but you weren’t.”
I know this. It’s the same shit that kept me up at night for years.
“I felt so alone. But I’m the one who pulled away. I don’t know, I guess I was protecting myself. I blamed everything on you, but it wasn’t only you—”
“Vanessa, we don’t need to do this.”
“Just let me finish, okay? What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I realize now how all the shit I said back then hurt you. I was young and angry, and I lashed out.”
“You had every right to be angry,” I say quietly. “I asked you to give up everything…”
She shakes her head. “But you didn’t. I followed you because I loved you. And I failed us just as much as you did.”
Something in my chest loosens.
Something I didn’t know was still tight.
She reaches out, but something on my face must warn her off, and she pulls back. “I want you to be happy. Find love—”
“I have. I am,” I cut in. “The happiest I’ve ever been.”
Maybe not right this second. Not when I still don’t know where Summer is. Not when the last month has been a steady grind of pretending I’m fine, while every mention of her name makes my heart fucking ache.
The world sees the focused captain, leading his team through the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Nobody sees my jaw tightening as an entertainment reporter grins and gossips about Summer with Cash. If I hear “country music’s it couple” one more time, I’m liable to throw my coffee at the TV.
I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. Acting like she isn’t everything to me.
It might be selfish. It probably is.
But for the first time in my life, I’m starting to think maybe it’s allowed. Maybe part of protecting her is protecting us—what we have together.
“Oh.” Vanessa’s voice softens. “I didn’t know.”
“We’re keeping it private for now. But, hopefully soon, we won’t have to.”
The distance I can handle. Hell, I’m built for it. Road trips, hotels, time zones, weeks that run together. It’s the hiding that’s killing me. The way it’s turned the best thing that’s ever happened to me into a dirty secret.
Vanessa’s brows pinch together, but I don’t explain further. Instead, I tell her, “It all worked out for the best. We’re both where we’re supposed to be.”
Well, I will be, as soon as I find Summer.
I pull out my phone, but still nothing. “Hey, you haven’t seen Summer, have you? Or Cash Walker? They sang the anthems.”
“Oh, yeah, such a cute couple.”
I press my tongue against the back of my teeth.
“They’re in Harold’s office—oh, there they are.” Her gaze darts over my shoulder.
I turn. Summer’s twenty feet away. Cash is beside her, a hand on her elbow, talking low. She laughs at whatever he said, head tipping back.
The sound carries down the hall and fills a space in my chest that’s been empty since she left.
Fuck. I missed that. Missed her.
She stops, and our eyes meet.
Then her gaze flicks to Vanessa. To the little girl in David’s arms.
When her eyes return to me, her smile is so bright, it hurts.
I close the distance between us in three strides.