Chapter 14 #2
"If Miller finds out you’re hooking up? He’ll bench Theo. He’ll strip the Captaincy. He’ll tell the scouts Theo is 'unmanageable.' It will tank his draft stock."
"I know," I said, tears pricking my eyes. "Theo told me."
"Then you have to fix it," Jax said. "You have to be smarter. Or... you have to stop."
"I can't stop," I admitted. "I love him, Jax."
Jax sighed. He ran a hand through his messy hair.
"Yeah. I figured." He looked at the painting of Theo on the easel. He stared at it for a long moment. "That’s really good, by the way. You captured his 'I hate everyone but you' face perfectly."
He turned back to me.
"Look. I’ll run interference. I’ll tell Miller Theo is helping me study or whatever. But you guys need to cool it. No more coffee dates. No more library footsie. Go dark."
"We are going dark," I promised. "Starting now."
"Good." Jax unlocked the door. "Because if you don't? This whole thing blows up. And the shrapnel is going to hit Theo the hardest."
He walked out.
I stood there, shaking.
The screenshot. The photo from Chloe. The "Unknown Number" Theo told me about.
It wasn't just carelessness. It was a campaign.
Someone was actively tracking us. Someone wanted to destroy us.
Why?
I looked at the painting again. Theo looked strong. Unbreakable.
But he wasn't. He was fragile. His future hung by a thread.
And I was the scissors.
I grabbed my phone. I needed to warn him.
But as I unlocked the screen, I saw a new notification.
Instagram: You have been tagged in a post by @BlackthorneConfessions.
My stomach churned. Blackthorne Confessions was the campus gossip page. It was toxic. It was anonymous.
I opened the app.
There it was.
The photo Chloe had shown me. Me outside the medical room.
@BlackthorneConfessions: Rumor has it The Tsar has found his Tsarina. Looks like Daddy’s Money is buying more than just degrees this semester. Is the Captain playing the field, or playing the heiress? #PuckLove #DraftDayDistraction
The comments were already rolling in.
“She’s ruining him.”
“Gold digger? Wait, she’s richer than him lol.”
“He’s going to lose his draft spot for HER?”
I dropped the phone.
It was out.
It wasn't a rumor anymore. It was a headline.
Panic, cold and sharp, flooded my veins.
I grabbed my bag and ran. I didn't know where I was going. I just knew I had to find Theo before he saw it. Before Miller saw it. Before my father saw it.
But deep down, I knew I was too late.
The trap had sprung. And we were both caught in the teeth.
I found him at the rink.
Practice was over, but he was still on the ice. Alone.
He was skating laps. Hard, punishing laps. He wasn't wearing his helmet. His hair was flying. His face was a mask of fury.
He had seen it.
I walked down to the glass. I pressed my hand against the cold surface.
"Theo!" I yelled.
He stopped. He sprayed ice as he turned. He looked at me.
His eyes weren't warm. They weren't the eyes that had winked at me this morning.
They were terrified.
He skated over to the glass. He didn't open the gate. He just stood there, breathing hard, condensation fogging the barrier between us.
"It’s everywhere," he said. His voice was muffled by the glass, but I heard the crack in it.
"I know," I said, tears streaming down my face. "I saw it."
"Coach Miller called me into his office," Theo said. "He showed me the post. He asked if it was true."
"What did you say?"
Theo looked at me. He looked at my tear-stained face. He looked at the fear in my eyes.
"I lied," he said. "I told him you were just a friend. I told him I was helping you with a panic attack."
"Did he believe you?"
"No," Theo said. "He told me that if there is one more photo... one more rumor... he’s calling your father. And he’s stripping the 'C' off my jersey."
He hit the glass with his gloved fist. Thud.
"I can't lose this, Mila. I can't."
"You won't," I promised, though I didn't know how I could keep it. "We’ll fix it. We’ll... we’ll stage a breakup. We’ll be seen with other people. We’ll do whatever it takes."
"A fake breakup?" Theo asked, a bitter laugh escaping him. "We started with a fake arrangement, and now we end with a fake breakup. It’s poetic."
"It’s survival," I said.
He leaned his forehead against the glass, mirroring my position.
"I don't want to break up with you," he whispered. "Even fake."
"I know," I sobbed. "Me neither."
"But we have to," he said. "For the draft."
"For the draft," I echoed.
We stood there, separated by three inches of Plexiglas, mourning a relationship that wasn't even dead yet.
But as I looked at him—trapped in his ice cage, burdened by his ambition—I realized the terrible truth.
The fake breakup wouldn't be enough. Because the love was real. And as long as we loved each other, we were a danger to his dream.
I wiped my face.
"Okay," I said, my voice hardening. "We do it. Starting now. Publicly, we are done. I move out of the Fortress. I go back to the dorms."
Theo’s head snapped up. "Move out? No. Mila, you have nowhere to go."
"I’ll figure it out," I lied. "It’s the only way to make it look real, Theo. If I stay in your house, nobody will believe we’re over."
He stared at me. He hated it. I could see the protest forming on his lips.
But he knew I was right.
"Fine," he choked out. "But... weekends. Secret weekends. We find a way."
"We find a way," I agreed.
It was a lie. I knew it, and maybe he knew it too.
Moving out was the first step. The first cut.
I turned away from the glass before I broke down completely.
"I’ll go pack," I said over my shoulder.
"Mila!" he called.
I didn't stop.
I walked out of the arena, into the blinding white snow.
The happiness from this morning felt like a lifetime ago. The narcotic had worn off.
And now, there was only the pain.