Page 25

Chapter 25

Jacob

I blink awake, staring up at the ceiling of Gabi’s childhood bedroom.

Everything here is smaller, like stepping into a time capsule of her life. My feet dangle over the edge of the bed, an uncomfortable reminder that no matter how much I yearn to fit into her world seamlessly, there are parts where I simply won’t fit.

I turn, reaching for Gabi, expecting to find her warm presence beside me, but my hand touches only cool, empty sheets.

A jolt of surprise—or maybe it's panic—runs through me.

My heart drums a little faster as I sit up, scanning the room. The walls are plastered with posters of pop bands that were probably crushes of hers once upon a time, and there’s a shelf loaded with trophies and old teddy bears.

Cute. Nostalgic. But not helpful right now.

Where the hell could she have gone?

Slipping out of the bed and securing the nearest bath towel around my waist, I glance at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It's barely dawn, the first light of day peeking through the pastel curtains.

Padding across the room, I head out into the hallway. As I step onto the cream-colored carpet and down the stairs, memories of last night flood back.

Her laughter. Her wide eyes. The sweet, excruciating intensity of holding her.

It's only hours later, but there's an emptiness that exists within my arms, an incompletion that tells every fiber of my being that only one person can fill the gap.

There's a Gabi-sized hole between my hands, and I need to find her before I go insane.

And speaking of insane...

I look into the kitchen. Evidence of last night's lasagna-making session is still scattered across the counter--some rogue bits of pasta, a half-chopped onion bulb, and a neglected pot on the stove.

Luckily, the stove is off. But the rest...

Shit. The thought of Gabi's Nonna Chiara having to come back to this mess makes my stomach churn.

I quickly grab a sponge and start scrubbing away at the counter, determined to clean up before she returns. But as I reach for the onion, I see something that makes me freeze.

My phone. I'd abandoned it on the counter while we were cooking and getting caught up in each other. On the screen is a message from my teammate Halstead in big fat letters:

"brO. Did you see this?"

My heart rate picks up as I open the message and see a link to an article.

My eyes widen as I read the title. "Anonymous Source Exposes Jackhammer's Fake Affair!"

My throat tightens, jaw clenching I read the first sentence: "It seems that Chicago Blades superstar and right winger Jacob ‘Jackhammer' Walker 's supposed relationship with up-and-coming PR wiz Gabriella De Luca was all for show, according to an anonymous source close to the couple."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"All for show."

"Anonymous source."

My mind scrambles for an explanation. But I can't think of anything that could explain this away.

My fists clench in anger as I continue reading the article, which goes into detail about how Gabi and I were nothing but a PR stunt orchestrated by my team's management to boost fan engagement.

As if Gabi and I weren't under enough pressure as it is.

Now we have to deal with this shitstorm.

I take a deep breath, scanning the chaotic kitchen one last time before I step away from the mess we left behind.

It feels like a different lifetime.

Yesterday we were cooking together, in bed together, laughter mingling with the scent of garlic and onions and childhood memories, our lives intertwined in a way that felt unbreakable.

Now? Now there's a swirling storm of chaos outside those kitchen walls, and Gabi is MIA, leaving me alone to face it.

My phone buzzes again, pulling me from my thoughts.

Halstead's message flashes on the screen. "Don’t sweat it, man! It's just noise. Everyone knows the truth!"

Manning chimes in next, a little more serious. "You gotta keep your head up, Jack. You and Gabi are solid. Trust that."

Then there's Evan, the team’s ever-grumpy dad, whose words hit home. "Don’t let them define you. Focus on what’s real, kid. Gabi is what matters."

But there’s a void in the mix. There’s no message from Gio.

My chest tightens. I know he’s pissed.

After all, this is his sister we’re talking about—his own blood.

The last thing I want is to lose Gabi in this mess, just as things were starting to feel right. I toss my phone down, frustration boiling beneath the surface. Turning to tend to the dishes, I finally see the note on the fridge.

A note from Gabi, written in her signature scrawl.

My heart pounds.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't. Don't hate me," it reads.

My mind races, but not as much as my feet do. Tearing out of the kitchen, I climb the stairs, combing through the bathroom, the hallway, then the bedroom.

I head back downstairs and do a circle, searching for any signs of Gabi, for any hint of where she could have gone.

Nothing.

Where the hell did she go?

My fingers tremble as I pick up my phone again, ready to call her and demand an explanation.

But then it hits me. There already is one. I just didn't want to hear it. Wouldn't let myself hear it. Or believe it.

Gabi doesn't trust me. She never has. Even last night, I could feel it. As much as she tried to hide it with those soft touches and sweet words, the fear was always lurking beneath the surface.

And now, my worst nightmare is coming true.

I was never going to be enough for my own father, never enough for the woman he married into our family, and now? Now, I'm never going to be enough for Gabriella De Luca either.

My vision blurs as I collapse onto a kitchen stool, staring at nothing but feeling everything.

I should have known better. Should have seen the signs and listened to my gut when it told me something wasn't right.

But instead, I chose to ignore it all in favor of this perfect image I had created in my mind.

Now, all that's left is the harsh reality. Gabi is gone, and she doesn't want me. Wouldn't be the first time someone has walked out on me, but it still stings just as much.

Because I let myself believe in something that was never meant to be real.

Taking a few deep breaths, I try to divert my thoughts back to the one thing that is real. The only thing that hasn't upped and left me in this life. Hockey.

Without a second thought, I grab the phone, dialing Coach's number and ignoring the fact that it's barely six a.m.

He picks up after two rings and lets a slew of expletives fly. I wait for the barrage to stop before getting a word in.

"Coach, I need you to hear me out. I wouldn't call you at the ass-crack of dawn unless I was serious. And seriously..." I pause, Gabi's note still in my hand, "I think I have the answer to us pulling out some wins against Seattle. Might make you hate me, but since you already do...what do you say? Want to let me surprise you with a little something?"

The line goes quiet for a moment before I hear the sound of Coach's raspy voice on the other end.

"I'll call you back in thirty minutes," he grumbles before hanging up.

It's a small win in a trail of losses, but it's something. Right now, that little bit of something is more than the nothingness that comes with knowing I've lost my best friend...and the love of my life.