Chapter 2 – Penalty Kil
Amelia takes the ic e
October
Amelia
“It's been over a month since you've seen Jaxson. I don't understand why you've let him get away with this for so long, Amelia!” Nita huffs, curling my hair as she helps me get ready for the night out.
I remain silent. We've been over this before, and my answer hasn't changed.
I don't know either, but I love him. I'd hoped he'd admit that this was a foolish idea and apologize for even suggesting it.
But no. He's dropped off the face of the Earth .
Oh, I see him on sports and news channels, living his best life, crushing his opponents on the ice, laughing and high-fiving teammates. But he hasn't darkened my doorstep since that day something inside me finally broke, and I agreed to open the marriage so he would leave me to grieve in peace.
Yet, every morning, as if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from him. Same time. Same words.
Jaxson: Morning, Melly. Love you.
That's it. No calls. No visits. Certainly, no date nights. No effort at all. Just that one meaningless text, perfectly timed. It's all I get from him now, and it's not enough.
What's the point? Why does he bother sending it if he doesn't care enough to talk to me? To show up?
Whenever I try calling, I'm sent straight to voicemail. It feels like shouting pleas into a void he chooses not to hear, and it's too painful. I no longer bother to call, let alone leave messages. It's easier this way, pretending his silence isn't intentional, that he hasn't already moved on.
“You're too beautiful and classy to settle for his crumbs, Amelia,” Nita groans, snapping me out of my gloomy thoughts .
I roll my eyes, looking at her in the mirror. “Nita,” I whisper, “you and Shelly know me better than anyone.”
“I know, I know,” she sighs in resignation, raising her hands to placate me.
"And if that were really true, what am I doing here?” My voice cracks, full of hurt I can’t hide. “How did I end up like this, with my husband all but abandoning me?"
"Because Jaxson’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you," she growls.
“That's why I let you girls talk me into this.” I'm not sure where it’ll lead, but I agreed to go out with them tonight—my very first time without Jaxson.
Nita and Shelly wanted me to wear a cute red minidress they found in the back of my closet.
I refused. Going out with my friends feels like enough of a stretch, and I’m not ready for a man-hunting expedition.
So, I pull on black skinny jeans, a white tank, and layer it with a cashmere sweater and boots.
My outfit may be modest, but it hugs my curves perfectly.
“Girrrrl! You are haawwt!” Shelly drawls after applying the final touches to my makeup.
Now, ready, I stop in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection.
I barely recognize the woman looking back, her mouth open.
I touch my cheek in disbelief and run my fingers through my hair.
Melly Kingston, Jaxson's mousy, insecure wife, is still there somewhere, but fading.
Her edges blur beneath the surface. Tonight, a beautiful, confident woman smiles back at me.
Amelia Smith. And, I'm going to embrace her.
I usually prefer a more natural look. With a celebrity husband, it's easier to fade into the background and avoid the spotlight. But not tonight.
Tonight, my hair is done differently. Usually hanging in curls down my back, now it's sleek, soft tendrils framing my face.
My friends have worked their magic with makeup, just enough to highlight my best features.
My skin glows golden, my big dark eyes look sultry, and my full lips are pouty.
No longer plain, ordinary me in the mirror. I'm strong, beautiful, and undeniable.
I turn first one way, then the other, studying my reflection.
The girl who lives in the shadow of her husband, quietly erased by his choices, is gone.
The woman who claims her space owns it. She doesn’t need anyone's permission to exist or breathe.
I square my shoulders and feel something rising from deep inside, something I buried for far too long.
Me. And I'm not going anywhere ever again .
I take a slow breath and whisper, "I'll never be anyone's afterthought again. I am not invisible. I am Amelia."
And for the first time in a long time, I actually believe it.
Since I don't drink, I'm the designated driver tonight. We hop into the car and head to The Iron Pier, an exclusive club the girls frequent. It's located right on the Waterfront, a hotspot in Thunder Bay, which is home to two colleges. The place attracts a younger crowd, so it's always lively.
Jaxson's never been a fan of me having friends outside our friend group, and his fame only makes that more challenging. I tend to be quiet and often stay on the edges of social situations, unnoticed by those around me. My tendency to keep to myself usually helps me remain unrecognized and avoid drama. But I can’t meet friends on my own without worrying that someone will recognize me and either tell Jaxson or blow it out of proportion and sell it to a gossip rag.
I tend to fade into the background. My dark hair and eyes give me a subtle, ordinary appearance that draws little attention.
According to my grandmother, I inherited my looks from my egg donor.
But since I've never met her, I don’t know how much of that is true.
While I'm attractive, you actually have to take me in to see it.
Going sans makeup and not wearing anything flashy or eye-catching only emphasizes how unremarkable I am—just another person in the crowd.
When I'm with Jaxson, his vibrant personality takes center stage, leaving no room for anyone else anyway.
He's outgoing, boisterous, and commands attention from everyone around him.
In contrast, I'm more reserved and content to let him bask in the spotlight.
No matter where we are, I dim in his shadow.
Others see only him, and usually, I'm okay with that as his counterbalance, the yin to his yang.
But now, I feel bereft, alone, and lost.
Another factor that has helped me maintain some semblance of anonymity is that I kept my maiden name when Jaxson and I married.
I started my skating career at sixteen under the name Amelia Smith when I went to the Olympics.
The skating and hockey worlds still know me as the daughter of the famous pro hockey player, Gord Smith.
After Jaxson and I married, keeping my name seemed easier and necessary for my career.
Throughout high school, Jaxson was an elite hockey player, outperforming his peers.
Our team won the OFSSA championship in his senior year at seventeen.
After graduation, he moved on to the Ontario Hockey League (OHL), where his team won the league title, and he was named the CHL Player of the Year.
From there, it only fast-tracked him to being drafted into the NHL and winning the Calder Memorial Trophy for Best Rookie in his first year.
I won nearly every championship and competition I entered, at both the national and international levels. My list of accomplishments includes several gold, silver, and bronze medals, as well as the Canadian Skater of the Year award.
My career path led me to the Winter Olympics in Beijing, where I was on track to win gold in figure skating until I injured my ankle and had to withdraw.
Both of us were making a name for ourselves, and that was when he changed.
It was as if my career no longer mattered.
When he wanted to be the sole breadwinner, he said he needed to take care of me.
At the time, I was flattered to be so special.
I wanted to start planning a family, but he quickly shot that down. I was left in the proverbial dust.
The week after Jaxson implemented our open marriage agreement, he emailed me an NDA to sign before a notary.
It included a brief note explaining that all the other players use this form and that it would protect our privacy by keeping our extra-marital activities confidential.
That feels like another layer of betrayal, almost as if he's trying to control me.
Where's mutual trust and understanding?
Why would I want to share the destruction of our relationship with anyone?
It's tearing me apart, and my love for him is suffering. I don't like this intrusion in our marriage. The pain feels like my heart's cracked open, and I can sense my love for him slipping away.
But I'm insignificant. I'm not the one prioritized in this relationship.
I suppose that would be Jaxson, if I'm honest.
So why shouldn't I take advantage of this opportunity and enjoy a night out with friends?
I may be opposed to the idea of an open marriage, but it's at least given me the chance to spend more time with Nita and Shelly.
Plus, I've decided to use this freedom to pursue my dreams and return to the competitive skating circuit.
Jaxson left me to my own devices, so why not be a rebel and prioritize myself?
I giggle nervously, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as I pull into the crowded parking lot.
The bass pulses, rumbling over me. It nearly drowns out the clinking of glasses and high-pitched buzz of laughter coming from inside.
A thrill of excitement washes over me, quickening my pulse and making me tingle in a way that has nothing to do with nerves.
This is really happening.
The Iron Pier is one of the larger clubs in the area, yet it still retains a nostalgic air.
With its rich history at the Waterfront, the club evokes the past. Although it has been reinforced and modernized, the exposed brick has developed a soft sheen in places.
The manual cranes used to haul freight to and from the ships, with their ropes and pulley systems, remain visible above the dance floor.
Edison-bulb lighting gives the space a romantic yet timeless vibe.