Chapter 33 Kieran #2
“That’s got to be illegal, right? A HIPAA violation or something.”
“Not as illegal as sports bribery,” Cole snapped back.
“It wasn’t a bribe.”
“That’s going to be almost impossible to prove.”
His words hung in the deafening silence between them. Kieran had done plenty of things over his career to piss off Cole, most of it on purpose. He’d never heard him sound this disappointed, this hopeless. It hurt more than it should.
“I can’t do this,” Matthieu muttered. “I don’t know what the hell to do, but I can’t stand here while my whole livelihood gets flushed down the toilet.”
He didn’t wait for a reply—just spun on his heel and stormed upstairs. Kieran hesitated. Was this one of those times Matthieu needed space to process? Or one where he had to chase him down and grovel? Most likely the latter.
Cole’s phone blared in his hand. He scowled down at the screen. “I need to take this. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid—like run his mouth—until I figure out a plan.”
Kieran took the stairs two at a time and found Matthieu in the bedroom, stuffing the clothes he’d slowly brought over into a bag like he didn’t need them here anymore. The sight punched the air from his lungs. History was repeating itself, and Kieran couldn’t breathe.
“Matty…”
“Did you even think, Kieran?” Matthieu whirled on him. “Did you think for one second what that decision would do to me?”
The words hit like a slap, but it wasn’t the anger that gutted him; it was the hurt beneath it. Kieran opened his mouth, then closed it, scrambling for anything that wouldn’t make this worse.
“That’s all I thought about, Matthieu,” he said finally, stepping forward with his hands open like he was offering the last pieces of himself. “All I wanted was for you to be okay.”
“I am okay.” Matthieu’s voice cracked, but didn’t falter. “Life’s been hard, Kieran. That doesn’t mean I’m broken. It doesn’t mean you have to fix a damn thing about me. We’re not all multimillionaires who can throw money at a problem and move on, but that doesn’t mean we’re helpless.”
Kieran flinched. That wasn’t how he saw it.
But from where Matthieu stood, maybe it looked exactly like that.
Like he didn’t believe Matthieu could handle things on his own.
Like he pitied him. It wasn’t true, but how the hell could he explain that without sounding exactly like the privileged asshole Matthieu saw him as right now?
“I was trying to help. I only wanted to make you happy.”
“You did make me happy, Kieran.”
Did. The word echoed, sharp and final.
“Having you in my life again brought me more happiness than I ever thought I could have.” He wasn’t yelling anymore.
Somehow, that was worse. “For the first time in my life, the voices in my head were quiet. That constant rage boiling under my skin finally cooled. Being in your arms made everything manageable for the first time since I came back here.”
He paused, swallowing hard. He looked like he was barely holding himself together, and Kieran hated himself for being the reason he was slipping again.
“And just like last time, you’ve thrown it all away.”
“No,” Kieran breathed, the word torn from him. “You don’t mean that.”
Matthieu didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at him.
Panic bloomed in his chest. “Matthieu, we can fix this. Please—give me a chance.”
“How the hell do you think you can do that?” Matthieu’s eyes finally met his, and Kieran wished they hadn’t.
They were full of betrayal, and worse, disappointment.
“You know how this looks. It doesn’t matter what you tell the league or the press; it changes nothing.
For the first time in my life, I had everything I ever wanted.
A job I spent ten hard years working for.
” He pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. “I had you.”
Matthieu was right. He’d just imploded his career. There was no spinning this, no salvaging it. It didn’t matter what Kieran’s intentions had been; when you stripped it down to the facts, it was clear as day.
Kieran had given an official three hundred thousand dollars.
An official who’d worked a pivotal game for his team.
An official who, despite knowing nothing about the money, had made a call that guaranteed the Inferno their playoff run.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a bribe.
It didn’t matter that it came from love. All anyone would see was collusion.
And Matthieu? He’d be destroyed. Their relationship alone could be used to claim Matthieu was biased in his calls on the ice. The fact they’d been seeing each other all season would call into question every call Matthieu had ever made.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. The words weren’t enough. He knew that. “Please let me try.”
There was no plan. No fix. But he’d find one. He’d hire the best PR team in the city. Beg, plead, throw himself on the mercy of the league, whatever it took. Because the thought of losing Matthieu again? It was too much.
This time, it wouldn’t be because he was too afraid to fight.
This time, if he lost him, he would be screaming.
A soft knock broke the silence. Kieran cursed Cole’s timing. Matthieu had almost looked like he might say try. Then his lips pressed together, and he turned away.
Cole peeked in. “Sorry to interrupt, I know this is… a lot. The GM wants to see you within the hour. Press conference is set for two.”
Kieran barely turned. “Okay,” he muttered, then looked back at Matthieu.
“Matty, will you stay until I get back? Please don’t run again. Let me try to make some of this right. Just give us a chance.”
Matthieu didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The silence crept in again, heavy and suffocating.
“Let me try,” he said again, hoarse from pleading. “Wait here for me.”
Still nothing.
The minutes that followed felt eternal, yet still, they slipped through Kieran's fingers like sand. No words. No promise. No hope. All he wanted was something to hold on to. The next few hours would be hard, but not as hard as returning home and finding Matthieu gone. Again. For good.
Kieran exhaled, surrendering to the finality of it. He’d known this was coming the moment he made his decision. He’d expected Matthieu’s anger, admittedly for a different reason, but he knew it would come either way.
He drew in a slow breath. His throat felt raw. “You’re the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Matthieu.”
He wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t lose hope. If he had to get on that stage and tell the whole damn world how much he loved Matthieu Bouchard, he would.
“I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never stop fighting for you.” It was the only thing he had left to give. “You’re allowed to be furious with me. I deserve it. I need you to know I’ll do anything to fix this. Anything, if you’ll give me a chance.”
He knew he might never see Matthieu again. At least this time, Matthieu would know what he meant to Kieran before he walked away. He would know that Kieran loved and wanted him. That Kieran needed him. That Kieran would never, ever forget him.
“All of this means nothing, hockey means nothing, without you.”
Then he followed Cole out of the room, the world shifting out from under his feet.