Chapter 47 Ivy
IVY
The snow fall follows us all the way out of Lake Placid, the flakes melting against the windshield. The road curves through forests weighed down with white, and I press my forehead against the glass to take it all in.
Leaving the last race location as a winner feels surreal. Especially since I’m not alone. Two of my big dreams came true yesterday—having the best race of the season and reuniting with Teddy. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.
Teddy is beside me in the backseat of a private car, leaning towards the other side.
He looks calm like this, sunglasses hiding his eyes, white cane propped casually next to him.
His hand rests on his thigh, fingers twitching now and then.
I slip my hand over his, spotting the faintest smile brush across his lips.
“You’re staring.”
“Always,” I whisper, grinning when he squeezes my hand in response. “How could I not, you look so edible.”
He tilts his head slightly toward me. “Stop, you’re making me self-conscious.”
“You? Self-conscious? That’ll be the day.” I huff out a laugh.
“Hey, it happens. Especially when a certain someone stares at me like I’m a piece of meat.”
I lean closer, lowering my voice. “That’s because you are.”
“You’re going to kill me, Campbell.”
“You survived months of rehab. I think you can handle a few compliments.”
His mouth quirks. “Barely, but only if I get to return the favor.” His thumb traces over my knuckles, slow and deliberate.
“You were phenomenal yesterday. Watching you cross that finish line, knowing everything you fought through to get there…It was—” He pauses and shakes his head like words won’t do it justice. “It was perfect.”
Warmth floods my chest, knowing he witnessed it all. “You didn’t even see it.”
“But I felt the energy and the way the crowd exploded for you. Trust me, I didn’t need my eyes to know you were flying.”
“You always know what to say.”
“That’s the first time I have heard someone tell me that,” he teases.
“Don’t ruin the moment.”
For a while, the ride stays easy like that, blissfully so. We fall into rhythm, teasing each other like no time has passed.
“What do you think about that new song?” I ask, humming a few bars of the current chart-topper that’s been on every radio station since early last month.
“Garbage. Pure garbage. I swear, if I hear that chorus one more time, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
I clutch my chest in mock offense. “How dare you? That’s a masterpiece!”
“Masterpiece? It’s literally five lines repeated for three minutes. A parrot could’ve written it.”
My grin splits wider. Damn, I’ve missed this. “So what? It’s catchy. Admit it, it’s been stuck in your head at least once.”
“Fine, I admit it, but only once.”
We keep tossing little stories from our time apart back and forth.
Every now and then Teddy chuckles, low and unguarded, and the sound makes my chest ache.
It fills the hollow spaces that had been carved out during the long months apart, flooding me with a warmth I thought I’d forgotten how to feel.
I laugh until my cheeks hurt, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like nothing ever came between us. But eventually the laughter winds down, leaving room for thoughts I’ve been too afraid to give voice to.
“So,” I say softly. “What was rehab really like? Give me the real thing.”
His silence stretches long enough that regret crawls up my throat. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked about it yet. But just as I open my mouth to take it back, he exhales slowly.
“You want the truth?”
I force my gaze up to where his sunglasses catch the afternoon light. “Yes. I need to know what it was like for you.”
His fingers tighten around mine, not in resistance but as if he’s bracing himself. “I actually have a way to show you.”
My brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
Teddy reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out his phone. He hands it over to me with earbuds.
“Find the Voice Memo app, and play the oldest first,” he murmurs.
Whatever I’m about to hear, it matters to him. It’s evident in the tightness around his mouth and in how his voice dipped lower just now. I slip the earbuds in and my heart beats fast, anticipation mixing with nerves.
I press play and Teddy fills my ears instantly. “My therapist, Mel, suggested voice memos…You two would get along. Mel’s a lot like you, not letting me feel sorry for myself.”
A laugh bubbles in my throat, even as sudden tears sting my eyes. Of course he’d find someone like me in rehab—someone to call him out while keeping him honest. It makes me happy to exist in the same world with professionals like Mel.
The recording continues and I press my lips together to keep the sobs inside me. He missed me so much he spoke into the quiet as if I were there.
The next note begins. “It was my third morning here when I met Aaron…”
As he talks, I picture this bright, twenty-year-old young man he describes.
My heart swells with pride. Not just for Aaron and his resilience, but for Teddy too.
He noticed the acceptance in someone else while learning to find his.
He cared enough to share it with me, even in a recording I wasn’t actually meant to hear.
I smile through my falling tears when he adds, “Damn, Ivy, I’m impressed by your job every single day.”
“You idiot,” I whisper softly, pressing the heel of my hand to my chest. “You have no idea how proud I am of you.”
A small, self-conscious laugh escapes him. “Guess we’re both idiots then. Proud idiots.”
As the recordings stack up, I get glimpses of everything: his frustration with his parents’ PR team, his Uncle Jake cheering him on from afar, and his soft confession about buying coconut-scented products to keep me close.
My breath catches at that one, another ache blooming inside me.
He wanted me so near he tried to smell like me.
By the time I reach January 31, his voice has shifted to be more thoughtful. “They used to call me the bad boy of hockey. What a fucking cliché…I’m glad I’m not that guy anymore. I like to think it’s because of you…Fuck, Ivy, what a fucking fool I have been.”
He truly has changed. He wanted to be better and he now is. The road to this point has been anything but easy, but Teddy did all that for himself and for us.
“I love you, too, Theodore. I love you so much,” I whisper into the quiet of the car after his first love confession. “I’ll cherish having the moment you realized the depth of your feelings captured for as long as I live.”
Beside me, his breath hitches and his words come out thick with emotion. “You have no idea what it does to me, hearing you say you love me.” He leans closer, brushing his lips over the back of my hand in a feather-light kiss. “I’m the luckiest bastard alive.”
The last recording is from March 19. His voice shakes as he admits, “tomorrow is the day I finally give them my final decision; I won’t play hockey anymore…I don’t know how to say farewell to him, to Teddy who skated like he owned the ice.”
I close my eyes, gripping the phone so tight my knuckles ache.
His grief is palpable, but then his tone gentles in an instant.
“But when everything else feels off, there’s one thing I can hold onto.
One person. You. Every single night, I wish for you.
Not the ice. Not my team. Not the crowd. Just you.”
That undoes me completely. My tears spill unchecked, my heart shattering and healing all at once.
I pull the earbuds out, clutching the phone to my chest like it’s the most precious thing I’ve ever held.
My hand finds his, squeezing tight, like if I press hard enough I can fuse us together, make up for every second we were apart.
“You—” My words crack in half. “You were talking to me all along.”
Teddy’s thumb brushes gently over my wet cheek, catching a tear before it can slide away. The tenderness of the act only makes me cry harder.
“I didn’t want you to feel guilty,” he says. “The notes were originally for me. I needed them to survive every stifling moment. But now they’re for us.”
I slide across the seat and crash into him, kissing him messily, desperate for him. He kisses me back passionately, his hand cupping my jaw as though he’s afraid I’ll disappear. My tears smear between us, salty on our lips, but neither of us cares.
When we break apart, foreheads pressed together, I whisper against his lips, “Never again. No more silence.”
“No more silence,” he echoes, the vow rumbling low from his chest, strong enough to settle in my bones. I curl into his side, tucking myself beneath his arm. With his heartbeat steady under my cheek, I close my eyes and let the road carry us home.