Chapter 45 Teddy
TEDDY
The hotel room door shuts with a soft click behind us, and for the first time all day, the constant noise of Lake Placid and the racing event fades into a hush.
No more random celebration, shouts or questions.
There’s just the faint hum of the minifridge and the sound of Ivy’s bag sliding off her shoulder onto the carpet.
I stand still, fingers tightening around my cane for emotional support. My heart is hammering so loud I wonder if she can hear it. We’ve spent time apart, missing each other, and now she’s here. Close enough that I can breathe in the comforting coconut scent that clings to her hair.
“This feels unreal,” she says softly, her voice wavering around the edges.
“You mean us finally being in the same room again?”
“Yeah. That.”
With a soft chuckle, I take a careful step forward and reach for her, my cane forgotten.
My fingers brush the sleeve of her jacket first—the nylon smooth and still cool from the outside air—before I find her hand.
The warmth of her palm fits against mine like it never left, like we were meant to fit together.
“Ivy,” I murmur, gripping her tighter, “I don’t even know where to start. So much happened while you were gone, and well, we haven’t talked much.”
“I blame myself for it, even though I know there are two people in this relationship.”
I feel the emotion in her stillness and the way her breathing changes. My thumb strokes over the back of her hand. “Tell me,” I say gently. “What happened, Ivy? You sound like you’ve been carrying something heavy.”
“Honestly, I’m shocked I finished third. My season had some ugly moments like the race in Finland. I kept thinking that if you’d seen me, you wouldn’t have recognized me…that you’d be disappointed.”
Her confession guts me. The idea that she thought my love for her was that fragile—that one stumble, one bad day or one mistake could erase the woman I know her to be—makes it hard to act rationally.
I want to grab her, shake her, kiss her, do anything to prove how wrong she is.
Hell, I was missing her so much I was talking to an empty room!
I let go of her hand only so I can reach higher, searching until I find her cheek. Her skin is damp—tears, probably—and warm against my cold fingers. I stroke my thumb over her cheekbone, willing her sadness to go away.
“Nothing could ever change how I feel,” I whisper, the words scraped straight from the deepest part of me.
Her exhale brushes my wrist. “And how do you feel?”
“That’s both the easiest and hardest question of my life,” I say with a knowing chuckle. “The answer is I love you. I have for a while and always will.”
The truth leaves me trembling, but also steadies me.
Her hands are on my face then, cupping my jaw.
“I love you too,” she breathes out, the words tumbling over themselves.
“I never want distance or silence between us. I only need us, however messy or hard it will be once we get back to our everyday lives.”
Her voice cracks on the last word and it undoes me. My knees are weak and my heart’s racing like I’m back on the ice. I yank her closer until her body is flush against mine, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
When our lips meet, it’s like coming home.
Her mouth moves against mine with a tenderness that splits me wide open, reminding me of everything I have missed about her.
My hand slides into her hair, the silkiness of it tangling around my fingers, and I kiss her again, memorizing the curve of her lips.
The world shrinks down to the brush of her nose against mine, the sound of her soft gasps, and her addicting scent wrapping around me. Weeks of longing press into this one moment, sealing the cracks left behind by the silence.
I pull back, enough to breathe against her mouth. “Let’s not waste another second.”
“Never again.”
“Now what?” I ask, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheek lovingly.
“We’ll have dinner with my family and your uncle, who I loved finally meeting earlier. Then come back to enjoy each other’s company.”
“What about the future?”
“We’ll take it one day at a time. When’s your surgery? Do you know yet?”
“Next Friday,” I mumble, the words heavy in my chest. I don’t want to think about the operation right now, not when we’re finally reunited.
“Teddy, that’s huge! Why didn’t you start with that?” she playfully pushes at my chest.
A hollow chuckle escapes me. “Because I wanted today to be about us. Not my diagnosis or the surgery. For once, I needed something that didn’t feel like a part of a hospital chart or a countdown.”
“That makes sense,” she teases, her smile audible in her voice. “But I would prefer it if you shared any important updates sooner in the future.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I tilt her chin up and bring her mouth to mine again. The connection is deep as I savor her sweetness I’ve been aching for since the day she left. Her lips soften under mine, and the world tilts back into place.
I rest my forehead against hers as the kiss breaks. “Whatever happens in that operating room,” I whisper, voice rough with promise, “the only thing I’m sure of is that I want you by my side when I wake up.”
“You can count on it, Theodore.”
There’s no other way to describe what her presence does for my soul and entire being. She’s my missing puzzle piece.
The restaurant the Campbells picked for the celebratory dinner is loud and busy. Ivy’s fingers stay curled around mine, and Uncle Jake is behind me, as we’re guided through the space, weaving around tables and uneven floors.
When we stop, chairs scrape the floor. “Good to finally meet you, Teddy,” a man introduces himself, voice deep and steady. “I’m Tom. Ivy’s dad.”
I nod and offer my hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Please call me Tom. I hate all that sir crap.”
“I could call you sir anytime, husband,” a woman teases him warmly. “I’m Nella, Ivy’s mom, by the way.”
“Lovely to meet you, Nella,” I say, already liking the positive vibes radiating off her.
“Hey, Teddy. I’m Max,” another masculine voice greets me from the right, steady and confident. “The older brother. I’m glad to see you up and about.”
I angle my head toward him, offering a small smile as my hand finds his in a firm shake. “Thanks. Good to meet you, Max. Congrats on your win.”
“Thank you. Damn, I can’t believe the Teddy Seaborn knows who I am,” he replies, excitement bubbling in his tone. It reminds me of when I first met Ivy—how she tried to play it cool but couldn’t quite hide the awe in her voice.
“I’ve never seen you so flustered, bro,” Ivy teases. “Stop fangirling.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” I mumble jokingly.
Another person chimes in. “And I’m Dean, the younger and better-looking brother. Also your biggest fan. Even if I’m pretty sure your posters on my sister’s wall back in the day tell a different story.”
That earns an audible groan from Ivy, but I can’t help laughing as I reach out and clasp his hand. Dean’s grip is casual and his voice carries that cheeky lilt of someone who’s always two seconds from delivering a punchline. It’s disarming in the best way.
“Let’s not forget me,” a woman pipes up, bright and sure. “I’m Kayla Drummond. A fellow Ice Cross racer and Max’s girlfriend. It’s so lovely to finally meet the man Ivy couldn’t stop talking about the past few months.”
“Kayla—” Ivy’s warning is sharp.
Her friend huffs. “It’s not a big secret how miserable you were when you two were apart.”
Ivy mutters something under her breath, and it pushes me to jump in.
“Well, it’s good to meet you all. Really good. I’ve heard enough about you to feel like I already know you.”
Ivy’s fingers brush my arm, offering help quietly.
I find her elbow and hold on as she guides me toward a seat between her and Uncle Jake.
More introductions are made around the table.
We’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, our little bubble vibrating with overlapping conversations and bursts of laughter.
It’s chaos, but the good kind. The kind that makes you forget you were ever lonely.
I automatically reach for Ivy under the table.
Her skin is warm and soft against my fingertips, the overwhelming noises fading into the background as I curl my fingers around hers.
Lifting our linked hands to my lips, I brush a kiss against her knuckles.
The gesture is simple, but it feels monumental.
It's proof that she’s beside me, not a voice in my memory or a phantom in my dreams.
Somewhere between the orders and the bread basket getting passed around, the conversation shifts to hockey. Not surprising since most of my dinner companions are diehard fans.
“It’s hard to put into words how much having you here with us means, Teddy. You’ve been part of our game nights for years,” Tom comments. “The Campbells don’t miss watching the Woodpeckers play if we can help it.”
“The boys, my husband included, have screamed at the TV more times than I can count. Not to forget Ivy and her creative swearing,” Nella adds.
“I almost broke a remote after the messy OT game against Montreal three seasons ago,” Dean admits.
Max’s voice follows. “Man, I’ve got a lot of respect for the way you played and for how you handled everything with the press conference.”
I’m caught off guard; it’s not a pity in their words—it’s reverence. “Thank you.”
“Are you still planning to stay involved with the sport in some way? Coaching maybe?” Max asks.
“Sure, I’ve thought about it, but have no solid plans yet. I’d love to be around the game somehow, if it feels right after the surgery.” Ivy’s hand slips into mine, knowing I need the support. “I don’t miss the pressure of being a professional athlete, but I do miss the ice,” I admit.
Jake cuts in for the first time in a while. “You know what you should do? Start a foundation that helps disabled kids and adults learn to play hockey through adaptive training. There’s not enough funding for such programs, but many could benefit from those opportunities.”
Ivy lets out a soft breath beside me. “You’d be incredible at mentoring, Teddy. Imagine how many people you could help.”
The words sink in deep. Not just because they’re flattering, but because they feel like a possibility to do something that actually matters.
“I’d like that. I really would. We can figure out the details after my surgery, but it sounds possible and something I can see myself doing.”
Jake clinks his glass against mine. “Let’s make it happen.”
Dinner eventually winds down with shared desserts. Ivy feeds me a bite of molten chocolate cake that nearly ruins me. Across the table, I hear someone snap a picture.
“This was a good idea,” I murmur, head tilted toward Ivy.
“Yeah? You’re not overwhelmed?” she asks.
“Nope. It actually feels good to be here.”
“I’m glad we could be what you need.”
She doesn’t realize how much it means to me to be welcomed into her family so easily. I’d been nervous, bracing for distance or judgment, but I should’ve known better. The people who raised Ivy into the fierce, beautiful soul she is couldn’t be anything but good.