5

Chapter 5: The Game Without Me

Jace's Pov 

I did not go to the final match.

At first, it was not even a decision. I was still in the hospital, and the doctors made it clear that I was not going anywhere. Even if I had wanted to leave, I would not have been allowed to. My body was still recovering, and every movement reminded me of that.

Still, I knew exactly when the game started.

I had been thinking about it all day.

Mason came by earlier than usual, and he did not ask if I wanted to watch it. He already knew the answer. He set his phone up on the small table beside my bed and pulled up the live stream without saying much.

“You do not have to,” he said.

“I know,” I replied.

But I was already watching.

The rink looked the same as it always did. The lights, the crowd, the energy, nothing had changed. That was the part that bothered me the most. Everything was still moving forward like I had never been part of it.

The team walked onto the ice, and I felt it immediately.

Something was off.

It took me a second to understand what it was, even though it should have been obvious.

I was not there.

My name was not being called. My position had already been filled. The space I used to take up had been replaced without hesitation.

Dylan.

He skated into my spot like it had always been his.

I watched him closely, my focus narrowing without me realizing it. His movements were sharp, controlled, and confident. He was not holding back, and he was not second-guessing himself.

He was playing like this was his moment.

Maybe it was.

The game started, and I did not look away.

At first, I told myself I was just watching, but that was not true. I was paying attention to every detail, every play, every decision. I noticed things I normally would not have cared about, and I could not stop comparing everything to how I would have done it.

It was not the same.

It could never be the same.

“They are doing fine,” Mason said after a while.

I did not respond.

The fine was not enough.

The first period passed, then the second, and the game stayed close. The crowd was just as loud as before, reacting to every movement like it still mattered the same way it always had.

To them, it did.

To me, it felt different.

By the final period, the tension in the room had built again, even though I was not there. I could feel it through the screen, and it made it harder to sit still.

Dylan had the puck.

I watched him move forward, pushing past one player, then another. For a moment, it looked familiar, like I was watching something I had done before.

Then he took the shot.

The puck hit the back of the net.

The crowd erupted, and the noise filled the room through the phone. Mason let out a small breath beside me, but I stayed still.

I did not react.

Dylan’s teammates rushed toward him, just like they used to do with me. They grabbed onto him, shouted his name, and celebrated like he had just carried them through the entire game.

I knew that feeling, I knew exactly what it meant and now it was his.

The rest of the game passed quickly after that. The final whistle blew, and just like that, it was over.

The camera stayed on the ice, capturing the aftermath. Players shook hands, coaches spoke to each other, and everything wrapped up the way it always did.

Then I saw them.

The officials.

They stood off to the side, watching, just like they had during every other important game. They spoke to a few people, then moved toward the players.

Toward Dylan.

I did not need to hear what they were saying.

I already knew.

“That should have been you,” Mason said quietly.

I looked at the screen for a few more seconds before reaching over and turning it off.

The room went silent immediately.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I leaned back slowly against the bed, my body still aching, but it was not what I was focused on anymore.

It was done.

Everything I had been working toward was gone.

And someone else had taken it without hesitation.