LOGINNAOMI’S POVI was wearing his shirt.That's what I keep coming back to when I replay it. Not the words, not the silence after, not the way his hands shook for twenty minutes straight. The shirt. Grey, threadbare, smelled like his soap and his skin and the night before. I was standing in his kitchen with coffee in one hand and my phone in the other, scrolling through nothing, feeling the kind of quiet that only exists the morning after someone holds you like you're the last good thing.The door opened without a knock.Richard Maddox walked into his son's apartment the way he walked into everything – like he owned it. Like the space rearranged itself around him out of obligation. Expensive coat. Car keys still in hand. Eyes that swept the room and catalogued every detail in under three seconds.Me. The shirt. The coffee. My bare legs. The two mugs on the counter.His expression didn't change. That was the thing about Richard – he never gave you the satisfaction of a reaction. Everything
RHYS’ POVThe water was too hot. I kept it that way.The burn was the only thing that worked. Not ice, not running, not the bag in the corner I'd punched until my knuckles split last week and taped up before she could see. Hot water on my shoulders, my back, my neck. Skin turning red. And for three, maybe four minutes the noise went quiet enough to breathe.The noise sounded like my father.You're a disappointment. You're dangerous. You're exactly like me and that's the part you can't stand.I braced my hands on the tile. Water down my face. Tried not to think about the freshman. Thought about him anyway.The check was too hard. I knew it the second my shoulder connected. He went into the boards and the sound echoed and I felt nothing. That's the part. Not guilt. Not remorse. Nothing. The cold satisfaction of a body doing what it was built to do.The guilt came later. Always later. I was sitting in the locker room after everyone left, staring at my hands. Seeing them the way the kid s
It came back to her through Cole. Because everything came back through Cole eventually – the quiet goalie who noticed everything and said nothing until saying something became necessary.Rhys was already in the apartment when I arrived Tuesday evening. Standing in the kitchen. Not sitting – standing. The posture of a man who'd been pacing and had stopped when he heard my key in the lock. His face was the dangerous kind of calm. The kind that looked like stillness from across the room and felt like a loaded weapon up close."You had an honest talk with Caleb."Not a question. A statement. Delivered flat, each word placed carefully, the way you place stones on a scale when you're measuring something you're afraid to know the weight of."What?""Cole heard it from two different guys at practice today. That you and Caleb had a heart-to-heart. That you called him when things got hard. That you feel safe enough to go to him when you need to talk." His jaw tightened. "His words. Making the r
It started with a sentence Sienna didn't know was a grenade.We were in the dorm. Saturday evening. She was getting ready for Cole's game – the not as a friend game, the one she'd changed outfits for three times while pretending she hadn't – and I was on my bed editing my column when she said it. Casually. Offhandedly. The way people deliver information that will rearrange your entire week without knowing they've lit the fuse."Cole was bummed about practice being cancelled yesterday. He'd been working on some new save technique and wanted to test it."My fingers stopped on the keyboard. "Practice was cancelled?""Yeah. Something with the rink – ice maintenance or a scheduling conflict or something. Cole said the whole team had the afternoon off."The whole team. The afternoon off. Yesterday. The same yesterday when Rhys had texted me at 2 PM – can't make the reading, practice runs late, sorry – and I'd said no worries and gone alone and read my piece to a room that didn't include him
I let him in.Not because the apology was good – it wasn't. It came out sideways and defensive, more explanation than remorse, delivered while he stood in my doorway with his hands in his pockets and his jaw doing the thing it did when sincerity was costing him physical pain."I shouldn't have disappeared. But you compared me to Caleb and I–""Needed space. I know. Three days of it.""I'm not good at–""I know what you're not good at, Rhys."Silence. Him in the doorway. Me in the room. The distance between us measured in days and fights and the accumulating weight of patterns that kept repeating no matter how many times we named them.I was tired. Not the kind that sleep fixes – the bone-deep kind that comes from loving someone who requires constant translation. From decoding silences and interpreting shutdowns and doing the emotional labour of two people because one of them had never been taught how to carry his half."Come in," I said. Not warmth. Not forgiveness. Just exhaustion ch
"What did you say to him Rhys?"He was still damp from the ice, bag over his shoulder, hair pushed back. The hallway outside the locker room was empty – just us and the fluorescent lights and the question I'd been holding since I watched a nineteen-year-old freshman skate away from Rhys Maddox with his head down and his shoulders caved in like someone had scooped out his confidence with a spoon."He needed to toughen up.""He's nineteen.""This isn't a nursery."Flat. Dismissive. The voice of the version of Rhys the campus was afraid of – cold, cutting, a man who left marks with his mouth and called it mentoring. I'd watched from the fourth row. Watched him check a kid half his size into the boards so hard the sound bounced off the rafters. Watched him lean in close and say something I couldn't hear but didn't need to – the kid's body told the whole story as he skated away with the look of someone who'd just learned that the person he admired thought he was nothing.Even Cole looked u
I don’t sit down, but I stop and turn around long enough to let him know I’m listening."Here's the deal," he said. "You tutor me. I keep Caleb off your back.""That's not a deal. That's a hostage negotiation.""It's an exchange of services." He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You need someon
I went to lunch with Sienna and Zara specifically because I thought he wouldn't find me in a crowd.Stupid. Stupid to think a cafeteria full of people would stop Rhys Maddox from doing exactly what he wanted. Stupid to think I could hide from a man who'd already proven he could find me in a bar, at
I left at 5 AM like a coward.No note. No kiss on his forehead. No romantic morning-after moment where I make coffee in his shirt and we smile at each other across the kitchen like people who haven't just detonated their entire lives.I simply peeled myself out from under his arm one inch at a time
Caleb stood at the end of the row with his coffee and his entitlement and waited for Rhys to move.Rhys kept not writing in his notebook."I said you're in my seat.""Didn't realize they assigned seats in college." Rhys still didn't look up. "Thought that stopped around the same time people stopped







