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بيت / YA/TEEN / 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate / Chapter 35 - Empty Bottles

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Chapter 35 - Empty Bottles

مؤلف: HoneyPen
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-07-22 02:31:37

Soraya’s POV

Dawn crept into the penthouse like a thief.

The first light of morning slipped through the tall windows, painting the living room in soft grays and golds.

I hadn’t slept. Not really. I had drifted in and out on the couch, wrapped in Declan’s Jersey, my phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline that had already failed me. The screen was dark now. No new messages. No missed calls. Just the same cold silence that had followed me since yesterday.

I sat up slowly, my body aching from t
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  • 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate   Chapter 41 - Australian Ice

    ~~~Declan~~~The rink was empty by the time I stopped skating.Australian ice felt different under my blades. Colder somehow, even with the heating vents blasting along the boards. Or maybe that was just me. Maybe nothing was going to feel right again until I was standing on ice back in Boston, with Soraya making sure I don't win by playing with everything in her, but somehow I still win, my little rival.I sat down on the bench and pulled my gloves off, staring at my phone like it might do something different this time. It didn't. No messages. No missed calls. Just the same black screen staring back at me, mocking me for every day I hadn't found the nerve to call her.I had a plan. I'd had a plan since the second night here, lying awake in a house that wasn't mine, listening to my father's voice still ringing in my ears from the argument in the car. The small plan was to finish this week of training so it doesn't look suspicious. Tell the team something, anything. And then buy a tick

  • 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate   Chapter 40 - Dorms or Dumps

    ~~~Soraya~~~The movers came at exactly 5 p.m.I watched two men in matching polos carry out the couch Declan and I used to fall asleep on, and I didn't cry. I told myself that was progress. Maya stood beside me with her arms crossed, glaring at them like it was their fault, like they were the ones who'd ended everything and not just the ones hired to clean up after it.By six, the penthouse was empty. By seven, so was i.We loaded what was left of my life into the back of Maya's car two suitcases, a box of books, the blanket that still smelled like Declan's cologne no matter how many times I told myself to throw it out. I didn't throw it out. I folded it and put it on top so it wouldn't get crushed, and I hated myself a little for that."You don't have to go back tonight," Maya said, watching me in the rearview mirror. "You can stay at mine. Give it a few days.""Victoria said the dorm room's already assigned. If I don't show up they'll give it to someone else and I'll have nowhere."

  • 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate   Chapter 39 - Miles away

    ~~~Declan~~~The private jet hummed steadily beneath me, cutting through the clouds like a knife through silk. I sat in the leather seat by the window, staring at the endless blue sky, but my mind was thousands of miles behind me, back in Boston, back in that penthouse, back with her.Soraya. My Savage.I clenched my jaw, the memory of her face when I left the most painful thing I’d carried with me. The way she had looked at me that morning, still warm from our night together, trusting me when I promised we would face my father together. And then I had been dragged away like a child who couldn’t make his own decisions.My father sat across from me, legs crossed, scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t just upended my entire life. Two of his security guys sat near the front of the jet, silent but watchful. They weren’t there to protect me. They were there to make sure I didn’t try to turn this plane around.I still couldn’t believe how fast it had happened.One moment I was holding

  • 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate   Chapter 38 - Move on

    ~~~Soraya~~~The morning light pierced through the hotel curtains like a knife.I woke up with a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like regret. The room spun slowly as I sat up, the sheets tangling around my legs. My body felt heavy, my mind foggy from the whiskey I had drowned myself in the night before. The events of yesterday came rushing back in fragments, the sponsor’s call, the twenty four hour eviction notice, Caleb’s apartment, the drinks, Maya storming in like a force of nature.I groaned, pressing my palms to my temples. The bed was comfortable, but it wasn’t mine. Nothing felt like mine anymore.Maya was already awake, sitting in the armchair by the window with a cup of coffee in her hands. She looked up when she heard me move, her expression soft with concern.“Morning,” she said quietly. “How are you feeling?”“Like I made a huge mistake,” I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold under my feet. “My head is killing me. And my heart…

  • 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate   Chapter 37 - The doorbell

    ~~~Soraya~~~The doorbell rang again, sharp and insistent, cutting through the hazy fog in my mind.Caleb froze beside me on the couch, his hand still resting on my thigh. His face shifted from relaxed to a small frown in an instant. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, standing up quickly. The sudden movement made the room tilt a little more. I grabbed the arm of the couch to steady myself, the whiskey making my limbs feel heavy and uncoordinated.I watched him walk to the door, my head spinning. The glass in my hand felt too heavy. The warmth that had dulled my pain earlier was starting to feel like a mistake. Caleb opened the door, and before he could say a word, Maya stormed in like a hurricane.Her eyes swept the room moving from the half empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table, the two glasses, me sitting on the couch looking disheveled and clearly drunk. Her expression darkened immediately.“What the hell is this?” she demanded, her voice sharp and loud enough to cut throug

  • 365 Days With The Hockey Player I Hate   Chapter 36 - Hazy lines

    ~~~Soraya~~~The whiskey burned less with every sip.I sat on Caleb’s couch, legs tucked under me, the glass cool in my hand. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside the windows and the occasional clink of ice as Caleb poured us another round. The room had started to tilt gently, like a boat on calm water. My head felt lighter. The sharp edges of the pain in my chest had dulled into something distant and manageable.Caleb sat beside me, his arm draped casually along the back of the couch. Not touching me, but close enough that I could feel his presence. He had been a surprisingly good listener tonight, asking gentle questions, nodding at the right moments, never pushing too hard.“You’ve been carrying a lot,” he said, refilling my glass with a steady hand. “An only child, no siblings to turn to, not even cousins of your age, just doing it all alone, you really are a SAVAGE.”I let out a sharp breath, and then took another sip. The whiskey warmed my throat an

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