Chapter 12 Iris #2
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Ellie’s clapping beside me.
I hadn’t expected her to get so into it, but she’s on the edge of her seat, completely caught up in the action.
That’s the thing about El, she’s the best person to invite to anything.
I’ve never known anyone else who was so genuinely psyched about life.
The crowd erupts as the Ice Hawks score, and we’re all on our feet without thinking.
Jamie’s tugging at my sleeve, pointing and yelling about the replay on the big screen.
I’m cheering too, caught up in the electric surge of joy that ripples through the arena.
When I catch sight of Collin celebrating with his teammates, arms raised in victory, that warmth in my chest spreads like honey through my veins.
“Number twenty-three with the assist,” the announcer’s voice booms, and Ellie’s knowing glance burns into the side of my face.
“Shut up,” I mutter, though she hasn’t said a word.
Her answering laugh mingles with the arena’s music as the players line up for the face-off, and I find myself smiling despite my best efforts to look annoyed.
The game shifts into something fiercer as the minutes tick by.
I may not understand all the rules, but I understand the electricity crackling through the arena, the way the crowd surges and sways with each play.
It’s intoxicating, this shared anticipation, this collective holding of breath.
The crack comes first, a sickening sound that reverberates through my chest as Collin gets slammed into the boards right in front of us and drops.
Jamie gasps beside me, his small hand finding my arm.
For a moment, everything stops, suspended in that horrible silence that follows violence.
But then Collin’s up and his gloves are on the ice.
The fight is brutal and graceless, as his hands twist into the other guy’s jersey, fist connecting with his jaw.
My heart lodges somewhere in my throat as I watch him take a return hit that makes my fingers curl into fists.
“Holy shit,” Ellie breathes beside me, and I barely register that I should probably scold her for swearing in front of Jamie because I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before us.
When they’re pulled apart, Collin skates toward the penalty box, blood staining his teeth as he works his mouth guard between them.
His chest heaves with each breath, hair dark with sweat where it escapes his helmet.
Then his eyes find mine through the plexiglass, and despite the split lip, he has the audacity to smile and wink at me.
Something hot and electric shoots down my spine.
“Oh, that’s...” The words catch in my throat, something hot and unfamiliar curling in my stomach.
“Hot?” Ellie supplies.
“Yeah...” The admission slips out before I can stop it.
“Mom, is Collin okay?” Jamie’s voice pulls me back, small and worried beside me.
“Yeah, buddy, he’s okay. Just part of the game.” The words come automatically, steady and reassuring, even as my pulse races.
“And that’s five minutes for roughing for number twenty-three, Collin King,” the announcer’s voice fills the arena.
“King’s been making waves lately, folks, juggling his NHL career with that new reality show, Ice Breakers.
The team’s felt his absence these past few weeks, but he seems determined to make it up to them tonight in his first home game of the season.
” I watch him in the penalty box, the way he leans forward, eyes tracking the game with laser focus.
There’s blood on his jersey now, I notice, a few dark drops stark against the white.
I should probably find that concerning. Instead, I find myself wondering what it says about me that I don’t.
The high of the game carried us out of the arena, Jamie chattering excitedly about every play as we navigate through the dispersing crowd.
The night air hits us like a shock of cold water, crystallizing our breath into little clouds that dissipate in the darkness.
We just said goodbye to Ellie, watching her disappear toward the far lot with a final wave and dramatic eyebrow wiggle in my direction.
I’m already mentally composing the text I’ll send her later, knowing she’s going to want to dissect every moment of the night.
“And then when he fought that guy, Mom! I mean, I was scared at first but—” Jamie’s voice carries across the parking lot as he bounces ahead of me.
My chest feels light, warm despite the cold.
I watch Jamie skip ahead, his joy so pure it makes my heart ache, and think about how rare these perfect moments are.
How special it feels to be living in one right now, floating in this pretty pink bubble where everything is right and new.
Then I see it. The silver Audi parked next to my Honda. Pink bubble officially popped. Everything collapses at once. The magic of the evening drains away so fast it leaves me dizzy, my feet suddenly stuck to the ground, the rain’s chill seeping through my boots as I stare at Owen’s car.
“Jamie, baby,” I call out, my voice steadier than the trembling in my chest. “Come here a second.” He turns back, raindrops catching in his dark hair, confusion crossing his features as I pull him close.
“Mom, is that—”
“Get in the car, okay? Right now.” I help him into the backseat, muscle memory taking over as I buckle him in. “Dad’s not here to pick you up. We’re going home just like we planned.”
“But—”
“I know, baby. I’ll be right back.” I shut his door, hearing the click of the locks engaging. The sound of Owen’s car door opening scrapes against my nerves, muscles tensing as the door shuts and he rounds the car.
“Location sharing,” he says by way of greeting, holding up his phone so I can see my little dot on his screen. “You never turned it off after... well.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It never has.
“That’s—” I start to say ‘a gross misuse of that feature,’ but he’s already talking over me, voice rising.
“So this is what you’ve been up to? Parading around with this guy? Making me look like an idiot?” He gestures at my chest, at Collin’s number still stretched across it. “It’s all over social media, you know. Pictures of you two. People asking me if my ex-wife is already fucking someone new.”
“I’m not—” I try again, but Owen steps closer, his voice dropping to that quiet, cutting tone that used to make me feel two inches tall.
“You really are desperate for attention, aren’t you? Couldn’t even wait until the ink dried on our divorce papers before throwing yourself at the first guy who looked your way. What kind of example are you setting for our son?”
“We’ve been divorced for a year, Owen,” I say, my voice firm despite the tremor in my hands.
“I don’t owe you explanations about who I spend time with.
” He takes another step closer, and every muscle in my body locks tight.
The familiar scent of his cologne, cedarwood and smoke, like a physical blow, dragging me back to a thousand similar moments.
My throat closes up, that old familiar panic rising like bile as he enters my space.
“You’ve really turned into quite the little slut, haven’t you?
” The words slide out soft and precise, designed to cut deep.
“First the separation, then the divorce, and now...” He gestures at Collin’s jersey again, disgust twisting his features.
“Throwing yourself at some C-list celebrity? You’re pathetic. ”
The anxiety writhes in my stomach like a living thing, cold and serpentine.
I can feel it coiling up my spine, wrapping around my ribcage until each breath feels like a battle.
My hands go numb, though I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or the panic.
“Everyone can see what you’re doing.” He steps even closer, his breath fogging in the space between us.
“The desperate divorcée act. It’s embarrassing.
You’re embarrassing yourself, embarrassing our son—”
“Stop.” The word comes out barely above a whisper, but he speaks over it like I haven’t made a sound.
“Hanging all over him like some groupie. God, you should see the pictures. You look desperate. Needy. Is that what you want Jamie to see? His mother throwing herself at—” Owen disappears from my view so suddenly it takes my brain a moment to process what happened.
One second he was there, looming over me with that familiar sneer, and the next he’s being hauled backward, feet nearly leaving the ground as Collin slams him against the Audi’s trunk.
The impact rattling through the quiet parking lot, and just like that, I can breathe again.
Air rushes into my lungs like I’ve been underwater, my body remembering how to function now that Owen’s presence has been ripped away from me.
The parking lot lights catch the fresh split in Collin’s lip as he towers over Owen, hands fisted in his jacket, hair still damp from the shower.
“Get your hands off me,” Owen snarls, but his voice holds something I’ve never heard before. Fear.
“Or what?” Collin’s voice is winter-cold, barely above a whisper.
Owen’s silence answer enough. “Get in your car and go.” Each word is like ice.
Collin leans closer, and I watch Owen try to shrink away from him, trapped between Collin’s body and the cold metal of his car.
“For your son’s sake. Because the only reason I’m keeping my self-control right now is the kid watching from that window, and trust me, you don’t want to see what happens if you make me lose it.
” Owen’s lip curls into an ugly sneer, but I can see the uncertainty beneath it.
“Enjoy my leftovers.” Something violent flashes across Collin’s features, his answering smile all teeth.
“Oh, I have. She tastes delicious.” The crude exchange should bother me, should make me feel small and used like Owen’s words always did.
Instead, I feel something wild and rebellious surge through me, watching his face contort as he jerks away from Collin’s grip.
The Audi’s engine roaring to life, tires spraying slush as he peels out of the parking lot.
I find myself laughing. Doubling over, grin split wide, maybe from relief, maybe from the absurdity of it all, and smack Collin’s arm.
“You know damn well you’ve never—” He turns to me then, and suddenly I’m caught between his body and the back of my car, his arms bracketing me against the cold metal. The parking lot lights caught in his eyes, turning them to honey as they crinkled at the corners.
“I know,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low and intimate that sends shivers racing across my skin.
“But he doesn’t know that. Besides, I’m sure I’m right.
” Heat blooms across my cheeks, and I watch his gaze track the flush with obvious satisfaction.
My heart stumbles over itself, the last traces of anxiety dissolving into something warmer.
“Did he hurt you?” His voice softens, concern threading through as his eyes search my face, a small line indenting the space between his brows.
His hand moves like he might touch my cheek, hovering in the space between us before dropping back to his side.
“No,” I whisper, the word barely there. Something in his expression shifts, softens around the edges even as his jaw remains tight.
His gaze travels over me slowly, methodically, as if cataloging every detail to ensure I was whole, unharmed.
When he finally speaks, his voice is a honeyed tone that slides down my spine.
“I’m starving,” he announces, and I stammer, my mind diving straight into the gutter. His laugh is rich and dark as he steps back. “You and Jamie should come get dinner with me.”
“Yes,” I say too quickly, then catch myself against the eagerness in my voice. “I mean—” I glance back at Jamie through the window, watching him crane his neck to try to see what was happening, his breath fogging up the glass. Collin follows my gaze, his expression softening at the edges.
“I know a place that makes killer mac and cheese.” The consideration in that simple statement, that he thought not only about asking us to dinner, but about what Jamie might enjoy, settles somewhere deep in my ribcage.
“Lead the way,” I say softly. He holds my gaze a moment longer, warm brown pouring into me.
As I follow Collin’s SUV through the snow-dusted streets, something inside me feels lighter.
Owen’s words still echoe in my head, the ghost of his cruelty lingering, but they don’t burrow under my skin the way they used to.
Not tonight. Not with Jamie humming happily in the backseat and Collin’s taillights ahead of me.