Chapter 39 Callie
Callie
The final buzzer blares, and everything in me seizes. The roar of the crowd swells below me, a tidal wave of noise I can’t seem to break through. I’m on my feet, but it feels like the ground just shifted beneath me, leaving me unsteady as I try to brace for what comes next.
Everyone in the suite is celebrating, humming with energy over the Railers’ hard-fought win. Nora is curled against Evelyn’s shoulder, sound asleep, her fingers clutching the edge of the older woman’s cashmere sweater.
I should be floating.
Instead, I feel mired down, like I’m being swallowed up by quicksand.
The players skated off the ice minutes ago, and I haven’t stopped replaying the final moments. The glare Zane threw me as he disappeared down the tunnel, the tightness in his shoulders, the hard set of his jaw.
That wasn’t a man pissed about the game.
It was personal.
When my phone buzzes, I pull it from my pocket. The message lights up the screen and sends a cold ripple down my spine.
Zane: We need to talk. Alone. Meet me by the back entrance.
I stare at it for a beat, trying to decide what to do.
Evelyn glances up from where she’s gently rocking Nora. “Is everything okay?”
I force a nod. “Would you mind watching Nora for a little while?”
Her eyes soften with something like understanding as she smooths a hand over my daughter’s hair. “Of course, sweetheart. She’s out cold.” She hesitates. “Although, are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I think so. If she wakes up or there’s a problem, just text me,” I say, slipping from the suite before anyone else can stop me or ask questions I’m nowhere near ready to answer.
My thoughts race, knotted with worry and something darker, as I take the elevator down and follow the private corridor toward the arena’s back entrance.
Zane’s already there waiting for me. He’s hunched near the shadows, hood pulled low over his forehead, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket.
As soon as I approach, he turns, and I freeze.
His lip is split and his cheekbone is already purpling beneath the swelling.
“What happened?” I ask.
His expression twists with bitterness. “The guy you decided to shack up with is what happened.”
Even though his words are ugly, I lift my chin. “I saw what was going on during the game, Zane. Don’t you think he had a reason to be pissed?”
It almost surprises me when he doesn’t snap back. Instead, his gaze sweeps over my face, like he’s searching for an answer to a question he can’t bring himself to ask. Or maybe he’s just looking for the version of me he once knew.
“What the fuck are you doing with River Thompson?” he finally demands, each word clipped. “Trying to hurt me? Get my attention? Make me jealous? Is that what this is about?”
A sharp, incredulous laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Believe it or not, my private life has nothing to do with you.”
He inhales hard, like he’s gearing up for another attack, but then he just exhales slowly. His glare flickers, the hard lines of his jaw easing just enough for the exhaustion to show through. His gaze drops briefly to the floor before coming back to me, slower this time, less sharp.
“I’m sorry, Callie,” he says. “I made a mistake. I let the fame go to my head. The girls, the parties, the money, the TV show. I thought I could have it all. And in the process, I lost what mattered most.”
I freeze, stunned by the sudden change in attitude.
This isn’t the Zane I know. Not the one who fed off attention like oxygen and measured his worth in headlines and camera flashes. The very same man who walked away without looking back.
This Zane’s shoulders sag under some invisible weight. His eyes, once electric with ego, are dimmer now, shadowed with regret. And for maybe the first time, he looks a little bit honest.
“I’ve changed, Cal. I want another shot,” he says, stepping closer until I can feel the heat of his body. His fingers thread through mine, and for just a second, it feels like the beginning again. “I want our family back.”
My mouth falls open before I manage to shake my head. “I’m sorry… Did you say you want another chance?”
“Yeah.” His tone is low but steady. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. What we had and how we used to be. We were good together once, Callie. We could be good again.”
None of this makes sense. “What about Gigi? I thought you loved her. You’re planning a wedding.”
“I’ll end it.” The words come quickly, almost desperate, as if she’s nothing more than an afterthought. “If that’s what it takes to get you back, I’ll end it tonight. Right now. Just say the word.”
Air leaves me in a rush. This isn’t how I expected our conversation to go.
Not after everything that’s happened.
“You don’t get to say all the right things and think it’ll erase the past.” It takes a moment to realize I’m shaking. “It destroyed me when you walked away.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m not asking you to forget.” He steps closer, gaze burning into mine. “I’m asking you to give me another chance. For Nora. For our family. Our daughter deserves that, doesn’t she?”
A hard knot forms in my throat. “That’s not fair.”
He reaches out, his thumb brushing along my cheek with a practiced familiarity that makes my skin prickle.
“The truth is that I never stopped loving you, Callie. I know I’ve got a long way to go, but think about it.
Please. I’ll even go to counseling. We can work on it together.
Just give me another chance. Give our family another chance. ”
His words echo in my head, colliding with a flood of emotions impossible to untangle. I open my mouth to push back, but another thought pops into my mind.
My tongue sweeps over my lips. “Were you the one who paid off the bakery loan?”
Zane doesn’t answer right away. His hand drops from my face as his jaw tightens.
“It was you, right?”
He exhales slowly. “Yeah.”
My stomach twists. “Why?”
“Because I understand how much that place means to you,” he says. “And I know how hard you’ve fought to keep it. I didn’t want you drowning in stress while raising Nora. It wasn’t about control or guilt, it was about doing the right thing, even after screwing up everything else.”
For a moment, I’m unable to find the words. I’m caught somewhere between shock and something dangerously close to gratitude. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was waiting for the right time,” he says with a shrug.
Everything feels so tangled. The moment, the past, the wreckage we left behind.
The man in front of me isn’t the Zane I remember.
But that doesn’t mean I trust him.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
And now, it feels like I have more questions than answers.