Chapter 21
Zoe
Charlie started slowing down on me, her reflexes not as sharp. I would happily call it a night and retire to the fire. My toes were numb, either from the cold and my lack of warm socks or from skating so much. Most likely, a combination of the two.
“What do you say we go warm up by the fire?” I suggested.
“Okay,” Charlie agreed, panting slightly.
We skated over to the seats at the edge of the rink where we’d left our boots.
I dreaded the thought of slipping on my cold boots that had spent the last hour or so sitting in the snow, but the idea of getting to curl up by the fire—hopefully with Miah—was enough motivation to get me moving.
I tried to be quick, so my feet spent as little time out in the elements as possible.
Then I moved to help Charlie who was still struggling to untie the laces of her skates with her gloved fingers.
When we returned to the fire, we found Aunt Peg waiting with a blanket for Charlie.
“I was just about to head up to the house for some hot chocolate. Would you like to join me?”
Charlie perked up right away. “Yes, please!”
Aunt Peg draped the wool blanket around her shoulders and then took her hand to lead her back to the house.
Uncle Cal whipped around in his seat. “Did you say hot chocolate?”
He didn’t even wait for confirmation before hurrying after his wife.
“I’ll bring you two a couple mugs,” he called over his shoulder.
I shook my head affectionately and then claimed his spot, the seat blissfully warm from him sitting in it since we’d gotten outside. The sound of three pairs of boots crunching through the snow slowly faded until there was the tell-tale creak of the back door opening and closing.
Noticing movement from the corner of my eye, I turned to find Miah scooting his chair closer to mine.
“Hi,” he grinned cheekily.
Why was he so damn cute? Charlie sure came by it honestly.
“Hi. Uncle Cal didn’t talk your ear off, did he?”
Miah shook his head. “I fully enjoyed the conversation.”
When he held out his hand, I took it all too eagerly, craving any touch I could get from him.
Bonus points if it brought feeling back to my frozen fingers.
If the others weren’t planning on coming back, I would have totally climbed into his lap to soak up his warmth.
I’d have to just settle for the fire and his hand for now.
He was silent as he absently played with my fingers, seemingly focused on them before his eyes flicked back up to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been drafted for the PWHL?” he asked, his voice soft as falling snow. But his question shot through my chest like a shard of ice.
Now I was the one staring at our intertwined fingers, unable to look into his golden eyes lest he see more than I was ready to show him.
“Because I didn’t even make it to training camp.”
Miah was quiet next to me, allowing me to process my thoughts and decide what to share.
Just like he had done earlier in the dining room.
The thing was, I didn’t know how to open up about it when I was still so disappointed in myself.
But this was Miah I was talking to. I knew he’d never make me feel bad and never to the extent I made myself feel.
“A couple weeks before camp, I went hiking with Jada and Levi. We didn’t pay attention to how long the trail was, and by the time we turned around, the sun was already setting.”
I sank further back into my seat as if I could hide away from the memories if I just made myself small enough.
“We entered an area of the forest where it was darker, and I took a misstep.” I swallowed thickly.
I could see the looming shadows of the trees as if they were right in front of me.
Could feel the scrape of their roots and the rocks that held them to the mountainside.
“I slid down the side of a big drop and broke my femur halfway down.”
I could still hear the snap. Hear Jada’s scream from above. It hadn’t hurt at first, I was completely numb, and then it hit me; white hot and blinding pain.
“They had to LifeFlight me off the mountain.”
I hadn’t cried from the pain. No, it had been the realization that I wouldn’t be playing hockey that had sent tears trickling down my cheeks as I lay strapped to the gurney, wondering how my life had ended so fast. No matter how great the surgery went or how well I did in physical therapy, there was no way the Rebels would wait on me to possibly be at the same level I had been when they’d drafted me.
Miah’s thumb stroked soothingly back and forth across the back of my hand before he slipped it under my glove to press it against my pulse point, grounding me as much as he could.
“I’m sorry that opportunity was taken away from you.”
It was only then that I tore my gaze from the fire to look at Miah, the flames still dancing behind my eyelids.
I was so used to people not understanding and telling me that I was being dramatic.
That it was only a sport, and there was more to life.
But Miah had been in my shoes. He had lost his hockey career, too.
“Did you retire because of Sadie?”
He gave a whisper of a nod. “I tried to play another season. Hired a nanny for Charlie and everything, so she could be on the road with me. But I was still gone too much, and that wasn’t the life I wanted for her. She’d already lost one parent. I didn’t want to be absent in her life as well.”
“Do you miss it?” I asked, even though I thought I knew the answer. I still needed further reassurance that he could relate. Or was Charlie enough for him?
He let out a breathy laugh that held no humor. “Like hell. I thought buying a rink might help the transition, but it doesn’t quite fill the hole left behind.”
It was exactly how I felt about coaching.
Sharing my passion with kids who enjoyed the sport just as much as me was the best part of my week.
Most of the time it filled my cup, but other times, it just made me miss playing even more.
To be in their shoes with so much potential and so much future ahead of me.
“How long did it take for you to heal?” Miah asked, his free hand rubbing up and down my thigh as if he could erase the scar tissue there.
“A little over six months, what with physical therapy and all.” Mentally, though? Well, I was still working on that. “It took me longer to get back on the ice.”
I’d never been one to stay away from the ice longer than I had to.
If there was a rink anywhere nearby, I wanted to be in it.
But after my accident, it was too painful.
I couldn’t even look at the little rink Charlie and I had just skated on, demanding that my aunt keep the curtains in my bedroom closed so I wouldn’t have to risk seeing it.
The thing that had once brought me so much joy had only added to the heartbreak.
“But how did you feel when you finally got back out there?”
Warm tears stung my eyes. “Like I was finally home again.”
He tugged lightly on my hand and leaned forward so I was forced to look at him. His eyes were glowing in the firelight.
“Because you are meant to be in the rink. Even if it isn’t in the way you’d always imagined.”
His words wrapped around my heart, healing the fractures left behind.
I brought our hands up to press my lips to his bare knuckles, his skin warm despite the cold. A tear or two managed to escape. I’d never felt as seen as I did by Miah.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
He quickly kissed away the tears, catching them before they reached my chin.
Then he lowered our joined hands so he could kiss me.
I leaned into him, letting the gentle sweep of his lips over mine wipe away all the negative thoughts and memories and banish them back to the dark corners of my mind where they normally lurked.
It was easier to keep them at bay lately, and I had the feeling that it was because of this wonderful man coming into my life.
And Charlie? Well, she was just the icing on top.
Our lips parted, and I made a soft noise of protest when Miah leaned back.
I just wanted to be close to him, to lose myself in him, just for a little bit longer.
But then he tugged me into his lap, and I all too eagerly obliged, nestling myself against him with my face tucked into the warm crook of his neck.
Miah flinched. “Your nose is cold. Especially your nose ring.”
I let out a small laugh. “Sorry.”
Instead of pulling away, though, he just wrapped his arms around me further.
“It’s okay. Just means I need to warm you up.”
Nothing sounded better.
It was then that I remembered we weren’t alone, despite previously feeling as if we were the only two people in the world.
“Wait.” I lifted my head. “What happened to my uncle coming back with hot chocolate for us?”
Miah looked around as well, his eyebrows crinkled together. A glance up at the house showed no movement through the windows.
“Maybe they saw us talking and didn’t want to interrupt,” Miah offered.
Whatever their reason for not returning, I was grateful for it. I felt cracked open and raw. I’d never told anyone my story. I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d faced the memories of my accident straight-on. But I could breathe easier now having shared them with Miah.