Hook The locker room door clicked shut.Silence.For the first time since the trade, it was just us.No teammates.No coaches.No cameras.Just the low hum of the air system and the sharp smell of ice and sweat.I was at my stall, pulling off my gloves, when I felt him behind me.“You waited,” Adrian said.His voice was calm, but it held an edge.I didn’t turn around. “I always finish what I start.”“Is that what you call this?”I set my gloves down slowly and faced him.He stood a few feet away, still in full gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His hair was damp, eyes darker than usual.Outside this room, the media was tearing us apart.Every channel. Every headline.Reed vs. Cruz: Who’s the Real GOAT? Former Lovers Turned Rivals? Sources Hint at Locker Room Drama. Captain Cold vs. The Scoring King.They didn’t know half of it.“I saw the interviews,” Adrian said. “You said you built this franchise.”“I did.”His jaw tightened. “Without me?”I stepped closer. “You weren’t here.”“
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