Leo POVBy the middle of my rookie season the rhythm of professional hockey had finally begun to feel familiar rather than overwhelming, allowing me to focus less on proving that I belonged and more on improving the smaller details that separated dependable players from exceptional ones, yet despite how completely my life had changed since leaving Northridge, there remained certain friendships that refused to become simple memories, and among them none carried more complicated history than the one I shared with Jax, because although we had repaired enough of the damage created during our final college season to part on respectful terms, I always sensed that some wounds had merely stopped bleeding instead of truly healing.We spoke only occasionally after graduation, usually through short messages following particularly good games or major career milestones, with neither of us attempting to recreate the effortless closeness we once enjoyed because we both under
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