All Chapters of Skating With Hearts : Chapter 131 - Chapter 137

The rink didn’t feel like home anymore these days. Not at all. Rather, it felt heavy with frustrations. Too many mistakes and the sound of blades scraping ice were more from irritation than rhythm.It had been one week since everything fell apart — since Skylar walked away from me with that look in her eyes that I still saw every time I blinked. Since Coach Donovan’s diagnosis. Since the team started falling apart like a badly built house.Now the championship was less than two weeks away, and the once-synchronized sound of our skates had turned into chaos. Missed passes. Poor timing. Arguments flaring for no damn reason.I was sure Caleb and his team were going to have a good laugh at us at the championship if we were to continue this way. Reports reaching us said that they were preparing really hard and really good for the championship.Damn it. “Fuck!” Liam said as he slammed his stick against the wall after missing yet another shot. “What’s the point, Ry? We’re dead out there!

The rink was silent again.No crowd. No flashbulbs. No chants.Just the faint hum of the overhead lights and the echo of my own footsteps against the ice as I walked on the rink. My skates dangled from one hand, blades clinking softly like chimes. I’d told the team I’d lock up tonight, though what I really wanted was to stand in this place — this temple of noise now hushed — and remember what winning had felt like.Funny thing about victory was that it’s loud in the moment but afterward, it leaves you hollow.Especially when you don’t have the one person you want to share it with.The ice glowed faintly under the arena lights and felt like a vast mirror that reflected my solitude. I took a few steps forward even as I inhaled the smell of cold metal and disinfectant that was thick in the air. My throat tightened, the weight of everything — Coach’s illness, Skylar, the endless noise, the ache in my chest — pressing down on me again.I had won only hours ago and yet, my heart was still

One year later.Boston always smells like promise and coffee.Always. A year after graduation and it was what I kept thinking about today. From the floor-to-ceiling window of our apartment, I can see the sky dusted in gold, the Charles River glinting like it’s showing off. Somewhere below, someone’s playing a saxophone, the kind that sounds both lonely and beautiful.The apartment I was in right now with Ryan's wasn’t fancy. It’s warm. Lived in. There’s paint on the walls from my late-night creative bursts, and hockey gear in places it absolutely shouldn’t be… like beside the shoe rack for instance. It was home for the both of us. “Sky,” Ryans called from the kitchen. “Have you seen my tie?”“Check the microwave,” I replied without looking up from my sketchpad.He poked his head out from behind the counter, grinning. “Please tell me that’s a joke.”“Depends,” I said, doodling the last line of a curve. “Did you check the bathroom mirror first?”He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re