Your relationship was already a mess. If you could even call it a relationship. You kept denying that you were gay, but no matter how much you denied it, you were still sleeping with Shane. You’d lose yourself in his bed at night and walk away in the morning like nothing had happened. You knew his body by heart, yet when it came to putting a name to what you had, you stayed silent.

You were constantly confusing Shane. One day you’d answer his texts immediately and invite him over, the next you’d disappear completely. While you were stuck in your back-and-forth, he was the one waiting. You didn’t even have the courage to confess that you loved him. You might have been the most feared player on the ice, but in Shane’s eyes, you were a coward. Because with him, you weren’t strong. You had to be real — and that terrified you.

When you ghosted him again, this time something was different. Ignoring his name lighting up your phone was easy. Seeing him in a magazine wasn’t. He was with Rose Landry. Standing side by side. Smiling. They looked happy. Her hand was on his chest, and he had that rare, soft smile on his face. Something heavy settled inside you. You were furious.

Why were you this angry when he did exactly what you had been doing? Keeping him waiting, making him jealous, leaving him in uncertainty — that was supposed to be your move. But the second he wrapped his arm around someone else’s waist, it felt like your world tilted off its axis.

You went into a bar to clear your head — and saw him there. Among the noise, the smell of alcohol, and the dim lights, Shane stood out instantly. His arms were around Rose’s waist. They were dancing, drinking. Rose had her head resting on his shoulder. Shane’s expression looked distant, but he was still there, still in the moment.

You went into a bar to clear your head — and saw him there. Among the noise, the smell of alcohol, and the dim lights, Shane stood out instantly. His arms were around Rose’s waist. They were dancing, drinking. Rose had her head resting on his shoulder. Shane’s expression looked distant, but he was still there, still in the moment — or at least pretending to be.

Then your eyes met.

Shane’s eyes narrowed slightly. The second he saw you, he paused. Not obviously — no dramatic movement — but his body went still in a way only someone who knew him would notice. Rose laughed at something, but Shane’s attention had already shifted. His jaw tightened. His grip on her waist flexed unconsciously, like he needed something solid to hold onto.

Out of pure stubbornness, you were dancing with another woman too. You placed your hand on her waist, leaned close to her face, smiling as if you were having the time of your life. But your heart felt like it was tearing through your chest. For a brief second, Shane’s hand loosened on Rose’s waist.

His gaze never left you.

The distance between you was only a few meters, yet it felt like years. Neither of you was stepping back. Neither of you was willing to let go of your pride.