Chapter 45 #2
Shane leaned back, his grin widening. “You look… different. What’s going on?”
“Jesus, Shane, let him get his drink first,” Kyle said.
I sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this conversation. “I spent some time with Connor today. Helped him with a school project.”
Shane raised his glass like he was making a toast. “Progress!”
“Don’t jinx it,” I muttered, though the faint smile on my lips betrayed me.
Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “Harper wasn’t there?”
“No, she had errands. She asked me to help, that’s all.”
Shane studied me for a beat, then leaned in like he was about to crack some life-altering wisdom. “And how’d that feel?”
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “Connor was great. Harper…” I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat. “It was good to see her, but things are still… complicated.”
The waitress returned with my beer, sliding a basket of fries toward Kyle, who immediately grabbed a handful.
“Complicated,” Kyle echoed, shaking his head as he twirled a fry between his fingers. “That’s one way to put it.”
I shot him a look, already bracing for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.
“You know,” he started, leaning back in his chair and gesturing dramatically, “this whole mess could’ve been avoided if you’d just listened to me in the first place and told her about the accident. But no, you had to make me your dirty little secret.”
Shane choked on his beer, coughing as he laughed. “His what?”
Kyle grinned wickedly. “You heard me. Dirty. Little. Secret.” He pointed a fry at me for emphasis.
I groaned, dragging a hand over my face. “Jesus, Kyle.”
“Hey, don’t ‘Jesus’ me,” he shot back. “I told you to tell her. What’d I say? ‘Honesty is the best policy.’ But nooo, you had to be all mysterious and broody. How’s that working out for you, by the way?”
I leveled a glare at him. “Fantastic. Thanks for asking.”
Kyle just smirked, but his voice softened slightly. “Look, man, you know I’m just messing with you. Seriously though–you should’ve told her. Women aren’t mind readers, and secrets like that? They don’t stay buried forever. You’ve gotta own your shit.”
“I know,” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “You think I don’t regret it? I was just… scared. I didn’t want her to look at me differently.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “And how’s she looking at you now?”
That shut me up.
“Exactly,” he said, popping another fry into his mouth. “Learn from it, Ry. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you another shot. And if she does? Don’t screw it up this time. And for the love of God, no more dirty secrets. I’m officially retired from that role.”
Shane chuckled, lifting his beer in a mock toast. “To retired secrets.”
I rolled my eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “You’re such an ass, Kyle.”
“Yeah, but I’m right,” he shot back with a grin. “Admit it.”
I didn’t say anything, just took another sip of my beer. Because annoyingly he was right.
More food arrived a few minutes later, and for a while, the conversation shifted to lighter topics–hockey, Kyle’s latest dating misadventures, and Shane’s newfound obsession with fishing.
Kyle wasn’t one to let things go for long, though. He set his beer down with a thud, his expression turning serious. “Alright, Ry, enough small talk. I didn’t just come here to see your broody face. I’ve got news.”
I raised an eyebrow, mid-bite of my burger. “News?”
Kyle leaned forward, exchanging a glance with Shane like he was about to drop something big. “Yeah. I got a call from the head coach of the national sledge hockey team, Jeff.”
Shane grinned. “This is good, Barzal. Real good.”
Kyle’s excitement was barely contained. “They want me–and you–to work with them at their training camps this summer. Two months of coaching some of the best players in the country. If it goes well, there’s even a shot at a permanent coaching gig. What do you think?”
I froze, the weight of his words settling heavy on my chest. Coaching the national team? That was huge. I’d always loved mentoring players, helping them grow. It had been one of the only things that made sense after I left the league.
Two months, though…
“I don't know,” I said finally, setting my burger down.
Kyle’s smile faltered. “What do you mean, you don’t know? This is an incredible opportunity, Ry. You’d be perfect for it.”
“He’s right,” Shane added, leaning forward.
I ran a hand through my hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… Harper. And Connor. Things are still so up in the air. I can’t just disappear for two months while I’m trying to fix things.”
Kyle groaned, throwing his head back. “Dude, come on. You think disappearing is worse than staying here, hovering around, hoping Harper magically forgives you? Maybe giving her space isn’t the worst thing.”
I exhaled, my voice quieter now. “I’m giving her space, showing her I’m serious. But if I take off for two months, what does that say? That I don’t care enough to stick around?”
Kyle leaned forward, his voice losing its usual testing edge.
“Ry, I get it. I really do. You have to think about what this means for you, though. The camp’s only four hours away.
It’s not like you’d be gone forever. You could still come back on weekends, even weeknights if you wanted.
And, honestly? Harper might need some space to figure things out on her own.
Doesn’t absence make the heart grow fonder? ”
Shane smirked, lifting his beer. “Or at least it gives her time to miss you.”
I let out a short laugh, though it felt hollow.
“It’s not just about that.” I hesitated, gripping my beer, trying to put words to the feeling that had been gnawing at me ever since Kyle mentioned the job.
“Harper’s letting me see Connor more. She’s starting to trust me with him, even if she’s still pissed.
If I leave now, I don’t know if I’ll lose that.
” I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “I don’t want to lose that.”
Kyle’s expression softened. “You won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” I shot back. “It’s taken me this long just to get her to let me help him with a damn school project. If I disappear now, what if she decides it’s easier that way? What if she starts thinking I was never supposed to be in his life at all?”
Kyle sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“Man, you’re already in his life. You think two months is going to erase that?
If anything, Harper seeing you show up, put in the effort, and still chase something for yourself might prove to her that you’re serious.
That you’re not just sticking around out of guilt. ”
Shane nodded. “You’ve done the work, Barzal. Harper might be mad, but she’s not dumb. She knows you care about that kid. Leaving for a couple of months won’t change that.”
I shook my head, staring at the condensation trailing down my glass. “Maybe. Still feels like a risk, though.”
Kyle shrugged, his expression thoughtful. “Look, no one’s saying you have to decide right now. Just think about it, okay? Give Jeff a call. This could be huge for you. And for the record, I think Harper would want you to do it. She cares about you, even if she’s mad right now.”
I nodded slowly, though my thoughts were still tangled.
The conversation shifted after that, slipping into easier territory. We laughed about Shane’s disastrous first attempt at snowboarding and Kyle’s ridiculous ability to lose his phone in the most improbable places.
By the time we ordered another round, the weight in my chest had eased. Sitting there with Shane and Kyle, trading stories and banter, I realized how much I’d missed this.
Between spending the afternoon with Connor and now being here with my best friends, it was the first time in over a month I felt like myself again. Things weren’t perfect–far from it–but for the first time in a long time, I let myself hope. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.
The house was quiet when I got home, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the creak of the floorboards beneath my feet. I tossed my keys on the counter, grabbed a glass of water, and headed to my room, exhaustion settling into my bones. Though it wasn’t the kind that sleep could fix.
I stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, Kyle’s words echoing in my mind.
“It’s only two months, Ry. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
I blew out a slow breath. The offer was incredible. Working with the national sledge hockey team? That was a dream–something I never thought would even be on the table. Coaching had always been my passion, and to do it at that level? It felt almost too good to be true.
The second I let myself picture it–being on the ice, helping those players hone their skills, being part of something bigger–I saw Connor’s face. Then Harper’s. And just like that, the excitement twisted into dread.
How could I leave them? Harper might have broken things off, but I wasn’t giving up. I couldn’t. I was going to get her back–I had to get her back. How the hell was I supposed to do that from four hours away? What if I left, and it only confirmed whatever doubts she had about me?
And Connor…
That kid had already been let down enough in his life. How could I, knowing how much he’d started to rely on me, just walk away?
My chest ached at the thought.
What if Harper never forgave me? What if no matter what I did, she’d decided I wasn’t worth the risk? Was I supposed to turn down an opportunity like this for something that might never happen?
Frustration simmered beneath my skin as I ran a hand over my face. There was no right answer. No easy choice.
I rolled onto my side, staring at the faint glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds. The idea of leaving made my stomach churn. But so did the thought of missing out on something I’d always dreamed of.
Would I regret staying? Or would I regret leaving more?
Harper’s face flashed in my mind–the hesitation in her eyes earlier, like maybe she didn’t want to leave either.
How do you choose between the life you’ve always wanted and the one you never knew you needed?