Chapter 51
Day Seven - Mac
Mac laced up his skates in the locker room, his mind not on hockey.
Seven days since Rachel had walked out that door to meet Brad. Seven days since everything fell apart.
Seven days of nothing. But he had a plan.
"You ready?" Cole asked, appearing beside him.
"No. But I'll play anyway."
"At least you won't have to see Brad Reese on the ice," Cole said. "Heard he's out with a groin injury. Won't be playing tonight."
Mac's shoulders relaxed slightly. One less complication. "Good. I don't need that distraction."
"Still doesn't mean Burlington will be easy."
"I know."
Mac stepped onto the ice, the cold air hitting his face, the familiar smell of the rink; ice, rubber, sweat.
He scanned the crowd out of habit, looking for Rachel's face. Empty seat where she usually sat. Fifth row center. Her spot.
Mac's chest tightened. She doesn't know yet. Won't know until after, when he shows up at the library with his carefully rehearsed apology and his grand gesture and his heart on his sleeve.
Win the game first. Then win her back.
In that order.
The puck dropped and Mac threw himself into the game with desperate intensity.
Burlington Blizzards. Second exhibition game against them in two weeks; the Eagles had won the first one 5-2, but the Blizzards were hungry for revenge. Good, fast, aggressive, skilled. Exactly the kind of team that required complete focus.
Which was perfect because focusing on hockey meant not thinking about whether Rachel would forgive him or not.
Mac intercepted a pass at center ice, drove toward the net with speed, deked around the defender, and fired a wrist shot top shelf.
Goal.
The crowd erupted. The team swarmed him for celebratory taps.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Jamie shouted, slamming into Mac's shoulder. "Keep that up and we'll destroy them!"
Mac skated back to the bench, his chest still hollow despite the goal.
Scoring didn't fix anything. It just delayed thinking about Rachel for another few minutes.
"MacKenzie, you okay?" Coach Davies asked during the line change.
"Fine, Coach."
"You don't look fine. You look like you're trying to kill something out there."
"Just playing hard."
"Playing angry is different than playing hard. Channel it better or you'll get a penalty."
Mac nodded and went back out for his next shift.
The game was brutal, hard hits, aggressive play, both teams fighting for dominance. Mac took a hit that sent him into the boards hard enough to rattle his teeth. He got back up and kept playing.
Pain was good. Pain meant he was feeling something other than the gaping hole in his chest.
By the end of the first period, the Eagles were up 2-1. Mac had scored once, assisted on another.
The scouts were taking notes. The crowd was loving it.
Mac felt nothing. He couldn’t allow himself. What if Rachel would break up with him? Had he blown it?
Rachel
Rachel sat in her car in the parking lot, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white.
She could hear the crowd roaring inside. Could see the glow of the lights through the windows. Could imagine Mac on the ice, playing his heart out.
And she was too terrified to go inside.
Sophie appeared at her car window, knocking insistently.
Rachel rolled down the window.
"What are you doing out here?" Sophie demanded. "The game started twenty minutes ago!"
"I can't do this. Sophie, I can't go in there."
"Yes, you can. We planned this. We have everything ready. You just need to be brave for ten more minutes."
Rachel took a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay. I can do this."
"You can do this. Now come on. Intermission is in ten minutes."
Rachel got out of the car, her legs shaking, and followed Sophie toward the rink.
Mrs. Henderson was waiting inside the entrance, holding an enormous bouquet of sunflowers.
"Oh good, you're here," Mrs. Henderson said. "I was beginning to worry you'd chickened out."
"I almost did."
"But you didn't." Mrs. Henderson handed her the flowers; sunflowers, Mac's favorite, dozens of them, ridiculously oversized just like Mac had brought her at the library. "Now remember: you wait until the intermission announcement."
Rachel clutched the flowers like a lifeline. "What if he says no?"
"Then he says no. But Rachel—" Mrs. Henderson squeezed her shoulder. "That boy is head over heels in love with you. He's not going to say no."
The buzzer sounded, ending the first period.
"That's your cue," Sophie said. "Come on. Let's go change your life."
Mac
The team filed into the locker room, sweaty and energized.
"Great period!" Cole said. "Mac, keep doing what you're doing. Jamie, tighten up on defense. Luke, stop trying to be fancy and shoot the damn puck."
"But fancy is fun!" Luke protested.
"Fancy gets you benched," Coach Davies added.
Mac sat on the bench, drinking water, trying to catch his breath.
"You're playing like a man possessed," Jamie observed, sitting beside Mac. "It's impressive but also slightly concerning."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"Does it matter?"
The team filed back out for the second period.
The crowd was on their feet, chanting, cheering. The energy was electric.
Mac scanned the crowd again, habit more than hope. Still no Rachel.
Of course not. She was probably home, doing exactly what she'd be doing if he'd never existed: reading, working, living her life without him. The ref's whistle blew to start the second period.
Then the arena announcer's voice boomed over the speakers:
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special presentation before the second period begins. Please welcome to center ice... Rachel Morrison."
Mac froze.
What?
The crowd murmured with confusion and interest.
And then, impossibly, Rachel walked onto the ice.
Rachel
Rachel's legs felt like water as she stepped onto the ice in her sneakers, clutching the enormous bouquet of sunflowers.
The entire arena was staring at her. Hundreds of faces. Thousands of eyes.
And Mac, standing near the bench, his expression shocked and confused and guarded all at once.
Rachel walked to center ice, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe.
The announcer handed her a microphone.
"Um, hi everyone," Rachel said, her voice shaking and amplified throughout the arena. "Sorry to interrupt the game. This will just take a minute."
The crowd was dead silent, watching.
Rachel looked directly at Mac.
"Ryan MacKenzie, I need to say something to you. And I need to say it publicly. In front of everyone."
Mac's teammates were grinning. The crowd was leaning forward.
Rachel took a breath and continued:
"Two months ago, you walked into the library where I work and brought me too many flowers. You made a grand gesture. You told me you liked me in front of everyone. You were brave and ridiculous and wonderful."
Some laughter from the crowd. Mac's expression unreadable. Was he mad?
"Then you spent two months proving you loved me. You turned down better opportunities to stay here. You read books you hated because I loved them. You met my difficult mother. You believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself."
Rachel swiped at her cheeks, but the tears kept coming.
"And I let fear control me. I didn't trust you when you'd done nothing but prove yourself trustworthy. I broke your heart. And I'm so, so sorry."
The crowd was quiet except the scraping of feet against linoleum floor.
She started walking toward him, closing the distance across the ice.
Mac's eyes were wet, his jaw locked. She took one more step closer to the boards.
"But you taught me that love means showing up. It means being brave even when you're terrified. So I'm done hiding. I am choosing you, Mac. Publicly. In front of this entire town."
She held out the sunflowers.
"I love you. Will you please give me another chance?"
Mac
Mac stood there, his entire body trembling, staring at Rachel standing in the middle of the ice holding sunflowers and crying and declaring her love for him in front of hundreds of people.
His team was watching. The crowd was watching. The scouts were watching. Everyone was watching.
And Mac didn't care about any of them.
All he cared about was Rachel, standing there, completely exposed, waiting for his answer.
"You hurt me," Mac said finally, his voice rough. Not amplified. Only for her. "You broke my heart, Rachel."
Rachel flinched but didn't look away. "I know. And I'm so sorry."
Mac closed the distance between them in three steps.
"No, I’m sorry. I was wrong," Mac said, his voice breaking. "I doubted you. I walked away when I should have fought. I'm so sorry, Rachel."
"Mac—"
"No, let me finish." He cupped her face, thumbs brushing away her tears. "I hurt you too. And I've been hating myself for it every single day. If we do this. I need you to promise me something."
"Anything."
"Promise me you'll trust me. Really trust me. Not say you do while constantly doubting." Mac's hands trembled against her face. "And I promise I'll do the same. I'll trust you. Even when it's hard. Even when someone tries to make me doubt."
"I promise," Rachel said, tears streaming. "Mac, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes."
“So do I.”
Mac stared at her for a long moment.
The crowd was getting restless, murmuring, waiting.
"Mac?" Rachel whispered. “They’re staring at us.”
Mac took the sunflowers from her hands and set them on the ice.
Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
The arena ERUPTED.
Cheering, screaming, whistling, applause so loud it shook the building.
Mac kissed Rachel like she was air and he'd been drowning. Like she was home and he'd been lost. Like she was everything and he'd almost let her slip away.
When they finally broke apart, both crying, both laughing, Mac pressed his forehead to hers.
"I love you," Mac said. "I never stopped. Not for a second."
"I love you too. I'm so sorry I made you doubt that."
"I'm sorry I doubted you." Mac laughed, the sound shaky with emotion. "You know, I had this whole thing planned. For after the game."
"What?" Rachel pulled back slightly to look at him.
"At the library. Sophie was going to keep you away.
Jamie was setting up string lights in your reading nook.
I had sunflowers being delivered—" He gestured at the flowers now sitting on the ice.
"Same ones, actually. I was going to show up with this whole speech rehearsed about how sorry I was and how I was fighting for us and—"
"Really?" Rachel laughed through her tears, the sound bright and surprised and so beautiful Mac's chest ached. "You had a whole grand gesture planned?"
"I've been rehearsing for days. Had it all timed perfectly. Seventeen drafts of my apology speech." Mac shook his head, grinning. "And then you go and beat me to it. On the ice. In front of everyone. Completely upstaging my entire plan."
"I'm sorry I ruined your grand gesture."
"Are you kidding? This is so much better." Mac kissed her again, quick and sweet. "You're so much braver than me. I was going to do it in private, in a quiet library. You did it in front of hundreds of people."
"I was terrified."
"You were perfect."
Rachel kissed him again.
The ref skated over, looking amused and impatient. "This is very sweet, but we have a game to finish. MacKenzie, you ready to play?"
Mac looked at Rachel. "Are you staying? To watch?"
"I'm staying. Fifth row. Cheering for you. Where I should have been all along."
"Damn right." Mac kissed her one more time. "I'm going to score so many goals for you tonight."
"Don't get hurt showing off."
"No promises."
Rachel
Rachel sat in the fifth row, clutching the sunflowers Mac had set aside, watching the man she loved play hockey with renewed intensity.
Sophie appeared beside her, grinning. "That was the most romantic thing I've ever seen."
"I can't believe I did that. In front of everyone. With a microphone."
"You were amazing. Brave. Vulnerable. Exactly what Mac needed to see." Sophie squeezed her hand. "I'm proud of you, Rachel."
Mrs. Henderson appeared on Rachel's other side. "Well done, dear. Very well done. Mac's a lucky man."
"I'm the lucky one."
On the ice, Mac was playing like he was possessed, but this time with joy instead of devastation. He skated faster, passed cleaner, shot harder.
Halfway through the second period, Mac intercepted a pass, drove the length of the ice, deked around two defenders, and scored with a perfect wrist shot.
As the goal horn sounded, Mac pointed at Rachel.
The crowd went wild. Mac had never pointed at anyone after a goal before he’d told her. It felt cheesy. It felt like something from a movie.
It felt absolutely right.
Mac scored two more goals before the game ended. The Eagles won 7-3.
When the final buzzer sounded, Mac skated directly to the boards where Rachel stood. He leaned over, grabbed her face, and kissed her hard.
"That's my girl," Mac said against her lips. "My brave, beautiful girl who fights for what she wants."
"Always," Rachel promised. "From now on, always."