Page 61

Iris

I hurried home, adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the earlier encounter with Knox and his father.

The rain had soaked through my clothes, but I barely noticed as I stripped off my damp dress and stepped into the shower.

The water cascaded over me, hot enough to make me gasp. I needed to wash away everything.

I dressed quickly in a simple black dress that hugged my figure, the fabric soft against my skin. I pulled my hair into a neat bun and splashed on some light makeup—just enough to look polished without drawing attention away from why I was really there.

I got back into my car and drove to Pandora's Box, trying not to think about confessing my feelings to Coach Callahan about Knox… in front of Knox.

God, had I ruined everything?

As I approached the conference room, I felt the familiar chill seep into my bones, colder than the rink itself. My heart raced as I pushed open the door, revealing three figures seated across the table: Crestwood’s Athletic Director, the Women’s Hockey Program Lead, and Chambers.

Chambers lounged back in his chair with that insufferable smugness plastered across his face. The gatekeeper. My heart sank at his presence; he felt like Knox’s ghost in flesh, lurking over me like a storm cloud ready to break.

No one smiled or offered any small talk; it was just an air thick with polite tension, as if they were all preparing to deliver bad news.

My chair scraped against the floor as I sat down, each sound echoing in the silence that surrounded us. My pulse quickened—a rapid drumbeat that drowned out all rational thought. But I straightened my back and took a deep breath.

Because I was Iris fucking Evans.

And I didn’t get here by being weak.

I sat at the conference table, my heart pounding in my chest as the Athletic Director leaned forward, hands clasped, a practiced smile on his face. “You’ve had a strong season, Iris,” he began, his voice steady. “Your leadership has not gone unnoticed.”

I forced a nod, trying to absorb the compliment even as my gut twisted. The weight of Knox’s kiss still lingered on my lips; pride battled with shame.

The Program Lead chimed in, “We’ve been rooting for you. Your dedication is commendable. It’s clear you have a bright future ahead.”

Bright future. I wanted to believe it.

But then the atmosphere shifted like the tide, and I could feel it—the tension coiling tighter. The smiles faded into something more serious.

The Athletic Director cleared his throat. “However…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “We need to address some concerns regarding your recent choices.”

Choices? My pulse quickened as I met their eyes—Chambers sat back. It made me want to scream.

“Specifically,” he continued smoothly, “the nature of your relationship with Coach Callahan's son has raised red flags.”

My stomach dropped as those words echoed in my mind: inappropriate relationship. My skin prickled with heat, but I kept my expression neutral.

The Program Lead pressed on. “There are power dynamics at play here that we can’t ignore.”

“Power dynamics?” I echoed, incredulous. “You’re talking about my performance and coaching—nothing else.”

“Performance aside,” the Athletic Director interjected gently but firmly, “we’re concerned about how this may appear to others within the program.”

Image concerns—that stung more than I expected.

“Is this really about how I’m playing?” I challenged them, feeling defiance bubble up inside me. “Or is it about what you think people will say?”

Chambers leaned forward slightly. “This isn’t just speculation anymore; it’s become an issue of conflict of interest.”

I felt trapped under their scrutiny and it hurt more than I thought possible. This wasn’t about my skills or talent anymore; they were scrutinizing me for who I cared about.

“We’re not here to punish you,” the Program Lead added quickly, though her tone was anything but comforting.

I fought against the tightening grip of panic rising in my chest, desperate to maintain control over a situation spiraling out of my hands.

Chambers leaned in—his voice smooth but sharp. “Your relationship with Callahan has complicated things.”

I stiffened. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. They already knew.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady, though it felt tight in my throat. “Coach Callahan pushed me to be better. That’s why I made this team. My performance speaks for itself.”

Chambers tilted his head, a look of amusement crossing his face as if he’d heard it all before.

The condescension made my skin crawl. “Your performance is exceptional, Iris,” he acknowledged, leaning back slightly as if giving me some room to breathe.

“But Team USA is more than just skill. It’s about integrity.

It’s about representing the country with pride—on and off the ice. ”

The words stung, a slap across the face wrapped in polite concern. I opened my mouth to protest but couldn’t find the words; they felt heavy in my chest like stones pulling me under.

What did he know about integrity? What did any of them know?

Knox had been my lifeline, not my downfall. He was the one who saw potential in me when others didn’t—a harsh coach with an unforgiving past, sure, but also a man who had taught me how to fight for what I wanted.

I forced myself to sit taller, to push through the rising tide of fear threatening to drown me. “You think you can question my dedication? You think I don’t care about this team?”

Chambers leaned forward again, his gaze piercing through me like an arrow aimed at my heart. “It’s not about questioning your dedication; it’s about protecting the image of our program.”

His words were calculated, designed to undermine everything Knox had built within me—every ounce of grit and fire he’d instilled during those grueling practices that pushed me beyond limits I never knew existed.

“This isn’t just a game for us,” he continued smoothly, like oil on water. “This is your chance to represent something greater than yourself.”

“I know what this means,” I snapped back, unable to keep the edge from creeping into my voice now. “And I’m not going to let you take that away from me because you want someone else on your roster.”

Chambers narrowed his eyes—an animal sizing up its prey.

The air thickened around us as tension mounted, but I refused to back down. Not now—not ever again.

The Athletic Director nodded, disappointment etched into every line of his face. “This… situation has put a spotlight on you. And not in the way we hoped.”

My stomach twisted. I heard what they weren’t saying: You’re not the golden girl anymore. You’re the scandal. You’re the cautionary tale.

A flush crept up my neck, heat mixing with the icy dread settling in my chest. I fought against it, fighting to hold onto the remnants of my composure.

“I worked for this,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “I earned this. Knox Callahan didn’t hand me anything.” My heart raced as I pressed on, desperation fuelling my fire. “He made me fight. And I’m better because of it.”

The silence that followed felt like a chasm opening beneath me—a void where my dreams could easily fall and shatter if they pushed hard enough. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

“Every drill, every push he gave me made me stronger,” I continued, finding strength in my words as they surged through me like a tidal wave. “I’ve bled for this team and fought through pain you can’t even imagine.”

The Program Lead exchanged glances with the Athletic Director, their expressions a mix of skepticism and pity. But I refused to let them see how deeply their words cut.

“We’ve invested in you,” Chambers finally said, his tone sharper than before, but it only fueled my resolve further. “And I won’t let you throw that away just because of who Knox is.”

I sat in the conference room, the air thick with tension. Their words swirled around me like a storm, drowning out my thoughts and twisting my stomach into knots.

“We believe you, Iris.”

Those words were meant to be comforting, but they felt like ice water in my veins. I could see their eyes—calculating, assessing—as if they were trying to decide my fate based on some invisible scale.

“But public perception is powerful.”

The phrase echoed in my mind like a taunt, mocking everything I had fought for. All those hours spent practicing until my legs burned and my lungs screamed felt trivial now, overshadowed by whispers of scandal that had nothing to do with me.

“We need time to assess how this affects your standing with Team USA.”

The words hit hard, each syllable like a punch to the gut. Time? What did that even mean for me? A man’s mistakes could still define me. Knox’s mistakes—the choices he made that I willingly walked into—had cast a shadow over everything I had worked for.

“No decisions today, but… this isn’t the direction we wanted for you.”

Their pity was suffocating. I fought against the lump in my throat, trying to find a way to express the anger and frustration bubbling inside me.

I wanted to scream that this wasn’t fair—that I was more than just a footnote in Knox Callahan’s story.

But it felt futile; it was like screaming into the wind.

I stared down at my hands clenched in my lap, willing myself not to cry.

This was what I had feared all along—the moment when everything unraveled because of someone else’s choices.

No matter how hard I trained or how much heart I poured into every game, it felt like one man’s mistakes in the past could undo it all.

And worse? The realization that no matter how much I loved him—how fiercely I had fought for us—it didn’t change the fact that his shadow loomed over me like an unshakeable curse.

The silence hung heavy as they watched me expectantly, waiting for something—anything—from me. But all I could feel was the weight of their judgments pressing down on me, stifling any hope of fighting back against their expectations.

As the meeting ended, I watched Chambers linger behind, a predatory glint in his eyes as the others stepped out. My stomach twisted, and I forced myself to breathe evenly, reminding myself that I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.

He leaned in closer than necessary, his breath brushing against my cheek. “Callahan’s always been poison, Evans,” he said, voice low and dripping with disdain. “You think you’re different?”

I met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. The urge to hit him bubbled beneath my skin, but I gritted my teeth instead. No way was I giving him that satisfaction.

“You’re just his latest casualty,” he continued, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. “The only reason you still have a spot is because Coach Callahan vouched for you. If you're seen with him in any capacity? It’s done.”

My pulse spiked at his words—each one cutting deeper than the last. I felt a heat rise in my cheeks but fought it back, pushing down the anxiety clawing at my insides. This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to use Knox against me.

I stood taller, sharp and fierce, channeling everything Knox had taught me about surviving the hits—on and off the ice.

“We’ll see,” I shot back defiantly.

Without waiting for another word from him, I turned on my heel and walked out before he could say anything else that would dig deeper under my skin. The door clicked shut behind me, leaving Chambers’ voice echoing in my mind.

As I stepped into the hall, adrenaline coursed through me. My heart raced—not just from the confrontation but from the fire ignited within me to prove Chambers wrong.

Knox believed in me when no one else did; I wouldn’t let anyone take that away—not Chambers or anyone else who thought they could control me.

I stood outside the building, breathing in the summer air, but it didn’t feel warm.

It felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on my chest. This was supposed to be the moment I got everything I dreamed of—the jersey, the recognition, my chance to prove I belonged on Team USA.

Instead, it felt like it was all slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, trying to clear the noise in my head. I couldn’t let them see me break. Not now. Not ever. They could judge me for what they thought they saw between Knox and me, but they didn’t know the truth—they didn’t understand what we shared was more than just physical.

But I wasn’t that girl who crumbled under pressure or backed down from a fight. I’d clawed my way to this point, sweat and blood staining the ice beneath my skates. If they were going to take this jersey from me? They’d have to fucking rip it out of my hands.

I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I squared my shoulders and pushed back against the weight bearing down on me. The fear might have settled in, but I wouldn’t let it control me—not when so much was at stake.

As I walked away from that building, each step felt deliberate—each one a promise to myself that I would fight tooth and nail for what I wanted.

Nothing could take this away from me without a battle.

There was a fire inside me igniting with each step; anger at Chambers for trying to undermine me and fear of losing what I had with Knox fueled my resolve.

I wouldn’t let their doubts consume me; I’d show them exactly who I was—a fighter ready to take on whatever came next.