Page 12 of The Love Comeback (Glaciers Hockey #3)

“It was a good day,” I say, my voice coming out more clipped than intended. I take the frame from him, not letting my fingers brush his, and set it on a side table without looking at it for too long.

Kade’s brow furrows slightly at my shift in tone. “It was. Remember Mrs. Halsey trying to organize everyone alphabetically, and nobody would listen to her?”

“Vaguely,” I lie. I remember everything about that day—the smell of freshly cut grass, the way my graduation gown stuck to my skin in the early summer heat, the weight of Kade’s class ring on the chain around my neck. A necklace I removed two months later when he broke my heart.

Suddenly, there’s a war raging inside my head.

Part of me wants to sink back into the connection we were rebuilding, to let down my guard and see where this might lead.

But another part—the part that remembers sobbing in my dorm room while my roommate awkwardly patted my back, the part that knows what it feels like to have Kade Santos decide you’re not worth the trouble—that part is screaming at me to protect myself.

“It’s getting late. We should probably call it a night,” I say, closing up the box we’ve been unpacking, unwilling to relive any more memories right now.

“It’s only eight-thirty,” Kade points out, checking his watch.

I shrug, not meeting his eyes. “It’s about my bedtime.”

“No problem. I can head out. But … are you okay?” Kade asks.

I force a smile, though I can feel how stiff it is. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long week.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway.

I start gathering the empty boxes and flattening them, my movements jerky and uncoordinated. The comfortable atmosphere from earlier has evaporated, replaced by a tension that makes it hard to breathe.

My mind can’t stop picturing a different life—one where Kade didn’t break up with me, where we stayed together through college, where I never married Landon, where maybe Kade and I would have been the ones to take in Colton after the accident.

It’s a dangerous train of thought, full of “what-ifs” that lead nowhere useful.

I check my phone, even though I know exactly what time it is. “Yeah, it’s getting late,” I say again, more to myself than to Kade.

He watches me for a moment, confusion evident in his amber eyes. “Ella, did I say something wrong? If it’s about the hug—”

“No, no,” I cut him off, waving a hand. “Nothing like that. I’m just suddenly very aware of how much I still need to do around here.” I gesture vaguely at the remaining boxes. “And I’ve already taken up enough of your evening.”

“You haven’t taken up my evening. I offered to help, remember? And I’m happy to stay longer.”

There’s something in his expression—a mixture of concern and something deeper—that makes my chest tighten. This is exactly what I’m afraid of. This pull toward him that I can feel even now, even after everything.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it from here,” I say, moving toward the front door in a not-so-subtle hint. “I really appreciate all your help with the bookshelf and the unpacking. It would’ve taken me twice as long on my own.”

Confusion flickers across his face as he follows me, clearly caught off guard by my sudden shift. “Ella, are you sure everything’s okay? Did that graduation photo upset you? ”

I stop, my hand on the doorknob. Something about the genuine concern in his voice makes me pause. “It’s not the photo, exactly,” I admit, staring at the floor. “It’s just … it reminds me of a difficult time.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes. “The breakup,” he says softly.

I nod. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it. But sometimes memories just hit, you know?”

“I know,” he says, and there’s a weight to his words that makes me feel like he does understand. “I’ve thought about that day a lot over the years. About how I handled it. I was young and stupid and—”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off, not ready to hear whatever explanation or apology he might offer. Not tonight, when I’m already feeling so raw and exposed. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. Water under the bridge.”

He studies me for a moment, and I can almost see him debating whether to push the issue. Finally, he nods. “Okay. But if you ever want to talk about it…”

“I’ll add it to the agenda,” I joke weakly, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere. “Right after ‘solve world hunger’ and ‘teach Colton to put his dirty clothes in the hamper.’”

Kade smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Fair enough.”

I open the door, letting in a rush of cool evening air that feels good against my flushed skin. “Thanks again for your help tonight. With the bookshelf and … ev erything.”

He steps out onto the porch, then turns to face me. “Anytime, El. I mean that.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my resolve waver for just a moment. Which is exactly why I need to keep my distance.

“Goodnight, Kade,” I finally say, my voice firmer than before.

I close the door before he can respond, leaning back against it and letting out a long, shaky breath. It’s better this way , I tell myself as the sound of his engine fades into the night. Better for everyone.

But as I turn back to face my half-unpacked living room, now empty and silent without his presence, I can’t quite convince myself that I believe it.