Chapter 25
JACKSON
Montreal in February is brutal, we're on the last leg of a three-game road trip, and I'm already exhausted.
Not from the games, we've won one, lost one, and I've played well—two goals and four assists.
Coach is riding the high of us climbing to second in the division. I'm exhausted from missing her.
Playoffs are six weeks away, and every game matters. The pressure's intense: media asking about our chances, fans getting louder, the whole team feeling the weight of expectations. This is what we've worked for all season. And all I can think about is Maya.
The hotel room is generic with beige walls, white sheets, and a view of downtown Montreal, which I'm not even looking at.
Chase is in the other bed, scrolling through his phone, probably texting Emma.
I want to text Maya, but we're being careful, nothing too revealing, nothing that would raise suspicion if Emma happened to see. But I need to hear her voice.
"I'm going for a walk," I tell Chase.
He looks up. "It's eleven at night and freezing outside."
"Can't sleep. I need to clear my head."
"You've been weird the whole trip." He studies me. "Missing someone?"
I don't answer, just grab my jacket and leave.
The hotel has a business center on the second floor that's empty this late. I find a corner, pull out my phone, and call her.
She answers on the second ring. "Jackson?"
Hearing her voice makes my chest ache, that familiar pull that's been constant since I left. "Hey."
"Is everything okay? You never call."
"I know. I just… I needed to hear you."
There's a pause, and I can almost see her curling up in my bed, phone pressed to her ear. "I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Emma showed me the highlights from tonight's game. That assist in the third period was beautiful."
"It was a pass."
"It was art, Ice Capades. Own it."
I smile despite myself, despite the distance, despite everything. "How are you? How's therapy?"
"Good. Really good, actually. Dr. Mills thinks I'm ready to start looking at nursing jobs. Not rushing, just exploring options."
Pride swells in my chest, warm and fierce. "Maya, that's incredible."
"It's terrifying. But the good kind of terrifying. Like I'm finally ready to try again."
"You'll be amazing. Those kids will be lucky to have you."
"You're biased."
"Doesn't make it less true."
She's quiet for a moment. I can hear movement in the background, probably Max demanding attention, or maybe she's curled up on the couch in the spot she always takes.
"I miss you," she says softly. "The house feels wrong without you here."
The admission makes something twist in my chest. "I'll be back in two days."
"I know. But two days feels like forever."
"Tell me about it." I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. "What did you do today?"
"Helped Emma with more baby prep. She's been nesting hard, and she’s only twenty-six weeks. She even made me organize the nursery twice because the color coordination was off."
"Sounds like Emma."
"Chase is a saint for dealing with her." She pauses. "How's he been? On the trip?"
"Good. Supportive. Hasn't said anything to anyone."
"That's good."
More silence, comfortable but loaded with everything we're not saying, all the words building up between us like pressure waiting to be released.
"Jackson?"
"Yeah?"
"When you get back—" She stops. "We need to talk. About telling Emma. I think Chase is right, we're running out of time."
"I know. I've been thinking about it too."
"Honestly… I want to do it before the playoffs start," she admits. "Since you and Chase left for your games, I've had time to think. I don't want to wait any longer."
I pause, considering, then nod. "Okay. We can do that. Before the playoffs."
"Thank you"
We sit in silence over the phone for a moment. I can hear her breathing, steady but hesitant, and it makes my chest tighten.
"I—" I start, the words sticking in my throat. I love you. No, not like this. I shift and clear my throat. "Yeah… I—uh… I should go."
"Okay," she says softly.
"I'm… I'm glad I called."
"Me too. Now get some sleep. You have a game tomorrow, and Coach will kill you if you're not sharp."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Goodnight, Ice Capades."
"Goodnight, Stardust."
I sit here in the empty business center for another ten minutes after she hangs up, staring at my phone, thinking about everything I didn't say, everything I should have said, everything I will say when I get home.
Back in the room, Chase is still awake.
"Feel better?" he asks.
"Yeah. A bit."
"You called her."
Not a question. A statement.
"Yeah."
"Good. You've been miserable without her." He sets his phone down, looking at me with that serious expression that means he's about to say something I won't want to hear. "You know you're going to have to tell Emma soon, right? Like, actually soon. Not 'after playoffs' soon."
"I know."
"She's going to figure it out. The way you two are around each other, it's obvious if you're paying attention."
"Are we that bad?"
"You're that in love. There's a difference." He turns off his bedside lamp. "Just don't wait too long."
"Noted."
I lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling, listening to Chase's breathing even out as he falls asleep. He's right, we're running out of time. Maya knows it, I know it, Chase knows it.
We need to tell Emma, need to stop lying, need to come clean before this secret destroys everything we've built.
When I get home. Two days. Then we'll figure it out.
The next couple of days blur together in a haze of travel, team meals, and postgame adrenaline. We take the win in Montreal, closing out the road trip two and one. The team's clicking, riding high heading into the final stretch before the playoffs.
But my head's not fully in it. I can't stop thinking about Maya, about the pendant, about everything I want to say and haven't, about the life I want to build with her once we're finally free of all this secrecy.
The bus ride back to Hartford takes five hours. I spend most of it staring out the window, watching the highway disappear under our tires, rehearsing different versions of the same conversation in my head.
Chase nudges me awake when we pull into the arena parking lot. "We're here, Cap."
I grab my bag and head to my truck, Chase falling in step beside me. It's after midnight, and the parking lot is nearly empty.
I drive home on autopilot, the familiar streets passing in a blur, Chase chatting quietly beside me, half asleep. We pull into the driveway, and I sit here for a minute with the engine running and the heat blasting.
The pendant feels heavy around my neck. I've been wearing it since I was twenty-one and Mom gave it to me, and it's never felt this weighted before.
I know what I need to do.
Inside, the house is dark and quiet, and everyone is asleep. I head straight to the basement, drop my bag, and sit on the edge of my bed.
I pull the pendant over my head and hold it in my palm.
The silver wolf catches the dim light, worn smooth from years of wear. My dad gave this to my mom when he proposed; it was supposed to represent forever, protection, and love.
Mom gave it to me with the instruction that I'd know when it was time to pass it on.
I know. I've known for a while now.
Maya. It belongs to Maya.
I need to give it to her properly, not just hand it over, but make it mean something, show her that she's not just someone I'm with, she's the person, the only person.
The one my dad would've wanted me to give this to.
Tomorrow. I'll figure out how to do it tomorrow.
I set the pendant on my nightstand and lie back on the bed. I close my eyes and think about how I'm going to tell her. Not just give her the pendant but tell her everything, the words I've been holding back.
I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
Simple words. Terrifying words.
But true, all of it true.