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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Ally

The cold air hits me as I step into the stadium, my boots clicking softly on the tiled floor.

Filing through the entrance with the crowd, I feel a fleeting sense of comfort, just another person blending in, anonymous.

The rink sprawls before me, the boards gleam white, dotted with sponsor logos, and the players glide across the surface in warm-up drills, their skates carving smooth arcs.

The slap of a puck against the boards echoes sharply, followed by the crunch of blades on ice.

Finding an empty seat near the edge of the stands, I slide in and settle down, pulling my coat tighter around me.

The chill seeps into my body, but I barely notice it, my thoughts are far too loud.

My coat feels snug, uncomfortably so, and my hand instinctively brushes against my stomach. My pregnancy is impossible to ignore now, not just physically but mentally.

Every small sensation reminds me that there is a life growing inside me.

I glance around nervously, scanning the faces of those nearby.

Nobody’s looking at me. Nobody knows. But I can’t shake the paranoia that someone could know, maybe from the way I walk, the way I look.

It’s irrational, I know, but my mind won’t let it go. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but it only settles me for a moment.

The crowd is a blur of coats and hats, faces alight with anticipation as they chatter and laugh. I’m surrounded by people, yet I feel so isolated, a single point of anxiety in a sea of excitement.

As I sit waiting for the game to start, my mind drifts to Tiffany and the blackmail.

The email. The pictures. The demands.

Even though Brooks handled it, the memories crawl back, wrapping tight around me like a vice. The thought of those images going public makes my chest tighten, and the paranoia sets in again.

What if someone at work knows? What if they’re whispering about me behind my back? My eyes dart around, landing on a group of people laughing near the concession stand. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but my brain decides it must be about me.

I bite my lip hard, trying to ground myself, but the rush of hormones and anxiety surges like a tidal wave.

You’re being crazy, Ally , I tell myself.

No one knows. No one can tell. But logic doesn’t stand a chance against the flood of emotions coursing through me. My hands tremble as I grip the edge of my coat tighter.

In a desperate attempt to distract myself, I pull out my phone. My fingers are cold as they swipe across the screen, navigating to the email confirming my application submission. My chest tightens as I see the words again: Thank you for applying.

Washington State. A fresh start. Far from Minnesota, far from the team, far from everything.

I open the document for the sixtieth time, scanning my resume and cover letter again even though I know they’re flawless. Each word feels heavy now, a testament to my desperation to leave.

The confirmation email sits in my inbox like a safety net, a lifeline to something new. It’s my way out, my chance to escape this mess I’ve created.

But as much as I want to feel relieved, all I feel is guilt.

Guilt for leaving, guilt for not telling the guys about my plans, guilt for wanting to run away instead of facing everything head-on.

I close the app and tuck my phone back into my bag, my heart sinking.

I can’t sit still anymore, but I don’t know where to go. All I know is that I can’t shake the feeling that everything is crumbling, no matter how hard I try to hold it together.

The sharp blast of the referee’s whistle signals the start of the game. The players skate out onto the ice, their movements powerful and smooth, like gliding shadows under the bright arena lights.

My heart skips when I see Brooks climbing awkwardly onto one of the benches behind the boards and leaning his crutches against the wall.

I hadn’t been sure if he’d be here today, and relief floods me at the sight of him. For a brief moment, he looks around, and then he sees me. His tense expression gives way to a grin and he waves up at me.

A wink follows.

The gesture is so quick, so casual, but it makes my face heat up. My cheeks flush as I quickly glance down, biting the edge of my lip to suppress a grin.

It’s ridiculous how much that little acknowledgment does to me, but my chest feels tight in the best way.

I lean back in my seat, trying to shake it off, but my eyes wander back to the ice.

Nick and Tyler are skating furiously around, both fiercely in their element. Nick moves with precision, his body a study in control, while Tyler’s energy radiates with raw enthusiasm. A pang of sadness blooms deep in my chest.

Leaving won’t just mean walking away from this job or this city, it means walking away from them. The realization cuts deeper than I’d expected, and it makes my decision to move feel even heavier.

I’m still lost in thought, the roar of the crowd fading into white noise, when someone plops down in the seat beside me. Startled, I glance over to see Kenzie’s familiar face beaming at me.

“Hey, stranger!” she chirps, her voice bright enough to cut through my haze.

“Kenzie!” I reply, my tone strained despite my attempt at enthusiasm.

Her brow furrows, and she studies me for a moment. “Okay, what’s up? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

I shrug, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Kenzie isn’t buying it. She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Is it…the baby?”

I let out a groan, slumping back in my seat. “Yes. No. Well…sort of.”

She nods knowingly, not pressing for more just yet. The crowd erupts in cheers as a goal is scored, but the excitement doesn’t reach me. My thoughts feel heavier than the noise around me, and it’s clear that Kenzie’s noticed.

Kenzie touches my arm gently, her eyes searching mine. “Ally,” she says softly. “What’s going on? You can tell me.”

The words spill out before I can stop them. “I’m thinking about leaving,” I whisper. My voice wavers, and I take a shaky breath. “I’ve already applied for a job in Washington.”

Her mouth opens slightly in surprise, but she quickly recovers. “Wow,” she says. “That’s…a big move.”

I nod, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of my coat. “It’s just…everything feels so complicated. I need a fresh start, Kenzie.”

Kenzie hesitates before responding. “I understand,” she whispers back. “You have to do what’s best for you and your baby. No one can fault you for that.”

We fall into silence, her words offering some comfort even as my mind continues to whirl. On the ice, the team plays with sharp precision, but I can’t focus on the game.

I feel disconnected, like I’m watching everything from behind a pane of glass. The sounds, the cheers, the whistles, it all feels distant.

At least they’re all okay, I think to myself. That’s something I can hold onto, even if I leave.

The first period ends, and the players skate off the ice to thunderous applause. The lights in the stands dim slightly as people shuffle to the concession stands and restrooms. I hug my coat tighter, the chill in the air biting at my skin despite the warmth of the arena.

Kenzie offers me a small, sympathetic smile. “You’ve got a lot to think about, huh?”

“Yeah,” I murmur. I know she’s trying to be supportive, but her words only deepen my sense of isolation.

I wonder if anyone would really care if I left. Would they even notice?

Suddenly, the sound of the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. A spotlight snaps on, illuminating the center of the rink.

Everyone pauses, their attention immediately drawn to the light. Whispers ripple through the stands, and my heart pounds as I watch, waiting to see what’s about to happen.

The rink falls silent as Coach Walker glides onto the ice, his suit sharp and pristine against the cold gleam of the rink. His whistle dangles loosely around his neck, but he holds a microphone instead.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” his voice booms, echoing through the arena. “We have a special moment to share with you tonight.”

My heart leaps into my throat. What could he possibly be talking about? My hands clutch the edges of my seat, and I glance at Kenzie, who shrugs, equally confused.

The doors at the players’ bench swing open, and the team begins skating out one by one, each holding a large white sign with bold letters written in black.

The first one catches my eye: “ALLY.”

I blink, my breath catching as the signs keep coming. They spell out my name in bold, clear letters, the players moving into formation like a choreographed dance.

Then Tyler skates out, his wide grin unmistakable even from a distance. He holds up a sign that reads: “WILL YOU.”

I freeze, my heart pounding wildly.

Nick is next, smoothly weaving through the other players, his sign declaring: “MARRY.”

My hands fly to my mouth, muffling a gasp as Brooks steps out last onto the ice, holding onto the wall for support for a moment. Then he raises the sign in his hand. His sign says it all: “ME.”

A spotlight clicks on, suddenly flooding my seat with brilliant light. The crowd around me murmurs excitedly, and all eyes turn toward me. My vision blurs as tears well up, and my chest feels like it might burst.

Kenzie leans closer, whispering, “Ally, are you seeing this?”

I nod, too overwhelmed to speak. My legs tremble as I stand, barely able to take a step without feeling like I might collapse.

Somehow, I manage to make my way down the stairs, the spotlight following my every move.

Brooks is still close to the rink’s edge, and I make my way over to him, the spotlight following me as I climb around and over people.

The crowd cheers as I reach him where he’s leaning against the plexiglass and motioning for me to come closer.

I step up to the edge, my heart racing as Brooks manages to drop clumsily onto one knee right there on the ice despite his brace.

He pulls a velvet box from his pocket and opens it to reveal a stunning diamond ring that sparkles under the bright lights.

“Ally,” he says, his voice steady. “You’ve changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You’ve brought out something in me I thought was long gone. Will you marry me?”

My knees feel weak, and the words catch in my throat, but somehow, I manage to nod through my tears. “Yes,” I whisper, then louder for the crowd, “YES!”

The arena erupts into applause and cheers as Brooks scrambles up again, then tugs me forward, pulling me into a short, passionate kiss. The coolness of the plexiglass presses against my arms, grounding me in this surreal moment.

“Thank you,” he whispers to me as the spotlight finally shuts off and there is an announcement about returning to the match.

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod, kiss him again, and let him get back into his seat near Coach.

I climb back to my seat in a daze, the ring on my finger catching the light and casting tiny rainbows across my lap.

Kenzie pulls me into a tight hug, her excitement bubbling over. “Oh my God, Ally, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” I manage to mumble, still struggling to catch my breath. My mind is spinning with too many emotions to name.

Kenzie grabs my hand, tilting it to admire the diamond. “This thing is huge. Brooks didn’t hold back, huh?”

I smile, though my thoughts are a mess. The weight of the ring feels strange, foreign yet comforting. My heart swells with happiness, but there’s an undercurrent of doubt and nervousness within me as well.

How did we get here so quickly?

The game resumes, but I barely register what’s happening. The players move like shadows across the ice, the puck gliding back and forth in a blur.

The crowd cheers, and Kenzie tries to talk to me about the plays that are being made, but I can’t focus.

All I can think about is Brooks.

And Nick.

And Tyler.

The memories of our shared moments swirl in my mind, mingling with the promise of a future I hadn’t even dared to imagine.

When the final whistle blows, the crowd explodes in celebration. The team has won, but the victory barely registers. My mind is still spinning when I make my way down to catch up with Brooks and the twins near the locker room.

Brooks pulls me into a hug, his grin wide and triumphant. “You’re coming to the house, right?” he asks, his voice low and warm.

I nod, catching a glimpse of Nick and Tyler a few feet away. Their smiles are just as big, their eyes shining with a mixture of pride and something else I can’t quite place.

“Yes,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “I’ll be there.”

The wait outside the locker room is a blur. My stomach flips and somersaults the entire time. The image of Brooks on the ice, the look on his face when I said yes: it all just replays in my mind on a loop.

Then there are the twins. Their smiles linger in my thoughts, making my emotions even more tangled.

How do they feel about the engagement, are they happy?

Or will taking this step with Brooks mean losing everything with them?

I hear the team flood into the locker room and my heart races.

This is the moment when everything changes.

I take a deep breath, trying to steel myself for whatever’s about to happen.