He shook his head in protest. “Nah. Should be Reed. Goaltending was on point. Couldn’t have done it without him.”
One of the things that everyone loved about Jaxon was how humble he was—always had been. He firmly believed that hockey was a team game and that each of us played a vitalrole in our success. The spotlight found him early on, but he’d handled it with grace, never folding under the pressure of high expectations. Tonight, I knew he would be rewarded for leading us to the promised land. He deserved every bit of the recognition he received.
Being the leader he was, he shouted to the group, “We have all summer to celebrate! Time to shake hands with the Bridgers and congratulate them on one hell of a series.”
Skating off to be the first in the handshake line, everyone followed suit. While it was euphoric to finally win, it was bittersweet coming face to face with the players on the other side whose dreams were crushed. They’d fallen just short and would never forget it.
A carpet was rolled out, and the commissioner appeared, along with a man carrying the MVP award. When Jaxon was declared the winner, I nudged him with a look that saidI told you so. Giving me an eye roll and a smirk, he skated forward to accept it before handing it off to a member of the staff.
The gleaming silver chalice was brought out next, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
The commissioner called Jaxon forward once more to accept the championship trophy as the team’s captain. Gripping both ends of the massive trophy, he lifted it over his head as a triumphant roar left his lips. Skating a quick lap, he handed it off to Reed for his efforts in goal.
When it was finally my turn, I hesitated for a moment. It almost didn’t seem real. Superstition dictated you only touched this sacred symbol of the ultimate achievement—stamped with the names of all the legends who came before us—if you were fortunate enough to win it, lest you ruin any chances of ever doing so.
Cautiously, I reached my hands out and grasped the edges before raising it over my head. I expected it to be heavier, but nothing could outweigh the lead weight settled over my heart.
This was the prize I’d worked for my entire life. And it struck me that I would give it up in a heartbeat if it meant I could have the woman I loved.
Passing it off to Benji once I skated my lap around the ice surface, I noticed the families were making their way out to celebrate with their players.
The significant others stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing matching jean jackets with the name and number of their man in script on the back—specifically made for the playoffs. Hannah also had one, but the one she wore in public carried her own last name to support her dad. Natalie was in charge of ordering them, so she’d made sure Hannah had an extra with my name and number. Pain washed over me at the memory of coming home to her kneeling in bed with her back to me, wearing nothing but the jean jacket branding her as my girl.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off Jaxon as Natalie clung to him, legs thrown around his waist and arms looped around his neck as their four children watched on.
Their laughter and happy conversation reached my ears.
A smile splitting her face, Natalie declared, “You stink!”
Jaxon’s wide grin matched that of his wife’s. “Breathe it in, baby. That’s the smell of a champion.”
She threw her head back as melodic laughter carried beyond where I stood watching.
It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
Hannah was supposed to be in my arms—this would have been the perfect time to announce our relationship to the world, on the highest of all highs. Instead, we’d been outed by a cheap-shot hit and forced apart by her father.
What should be the best day of my life would be forever tainted by what could have been.
Just thinking about her was enough to conjure her presence, and I caught sight of Hannah from the corner of my eye. She’d kept her distance since that fateful night when everything changed, even going so far as to give up anthem singing so we didn’t have to be within fifty feet of each other.
She happened to be staring at the same display of affection between our best friends, and from across the ice surface, our eyes locked—the sadness I felt in my own heart was reflected back at me in her blue depths. It would be so much easier if I saw hate there. At least then, I would know there was still a fire in her belly instead of being consumed by heartache.
Hannah was my feisty vixen, and it killed me to know I was the man who’d extinguished her spark.
Time stood still as we stared at each other, wishing things could be different today. She broke my gaze at a touch on her shoulder, turning to throw her arms around her father’s neck. Coach narrowed his eyes at me from over Hannah’s head.
It took everything in me not to flip him off behind her back, but I was very aware of the number of cameras aimed at the team as we celebrated.
You won, asshole. Hope you’re happy with yourself.
“So, I take it that’s the girl.” My sister’s voice sounded from beside me. I’d flown my parents, sister, and nephews out for the game. Nash stayed behind to run the ranch.
“Yeah,” I breathed out.
“And she’s not over here in your arms because . . .” Was she really going to make me rehash this here?
“Because she’s notmygirl. Not anymore.“ I couldn’t keep the pain from my voice as I said those words out loud.
