Page 17 of The Love Comeback (Glaciers Hockey #3)

Chapter Fourteen

Ella

“Hey, happy Friday!” Valerie pokes her head into my classroom as the students flood out into the hallway. “You wanna grab lunch today? Since we both have the next period off, I was thinking we could discuss the robotics team applications…”

“Oh, sure, yeah,” I reply, struggling to hide my hesitancy about spending the extra money right now.

“Lunch is totally on me,” she adds with a warm smile. “And I can drive!”

“Oh, you don’t have to—

“Don’t be silly.” She waves me off. “You’re always so good about bringing your lunches from home.

But as you know, I’m not nearly as disciplined.

And since I’m dragging you out with me, the least I can do is pay.

” She giggles as her red curls bounce against her shoulders, which are covered in an olive-green, floral-patterned maxi dress.

The woman has some way of pulling off the most eccentric of clothing, and she’s absolutely adorable.

I grab my purse and follow Valerie out of the room, relieved by the now-empty hallways.

I love my students, but I also love the silence that comes with lunch break.

My heels click on the linoleum as we make our way to the parking lot.

Valerie presses the key fob for her white Ford Explorer, and I climb into the passenger seat.

“So…” Valerie eyes me as she starts the car. “You’re kind of quiet today. Is everything okay?”

I force a smile. “Yeah, it’s just one of those days.”

“It’s Friday.” She narrows her eyes at me. “But okay. I can take that if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s…” I start, then stop, uncertain how much I want to share. Valerie and I have become genuine friends over the past month, the kind where she notices when something’s off. But financial worries feel so personal, so … embarrassing, somehow. Like I should have this figured out by now.

“It’s…?” Valerie prompts. “Not trying to pry or anything, but, scientifically speaking, talking about your problems actually reduces cortisol levels in the brain. So if you want to vent to me, it’s basically free therapy, just saying.”

I can’t help but laugh at the random scientific fact.

“It’s Colton,” I finally admit, grateful for her persistence. “He wants to try out for the spring travel team. ”

“Wait, really?! That’s great! He and Aaron can do it together!” Valerie exclaims, then catches my expression. “Or … not great?”

“The hockey part is great. He’s talented—Kade thinks he can make the team. It’s just…” I hesitate, feeling my chest tighten. “I finally looked up the costs and between the league fees, tournaments, travel, equipment—it’s a lot. I feel like I’m in way over my head.”

Valerie’s lips turn downward. “Oh, girl, I feel you. It’s so expensive.

It’s just insane how much it costs for kids to be involved in things these days.

It’s like we have to gouge ourselves to even give our children a chance.

” She shakes her head, frustration written across her face.

“If it weren’t for my ex-husband chipping in, I don’t think I could afford it. ” She sighs.

“Yeah, it honestly feels impossible. I mean, I’m stretched thin as it is. Between rent, utilities, insurance, saving for emergencies, there’s nothing left. And I can’t just…” I trail off, blinking rapidly as unwanted tears emerge.

“Hey,” Valerie says softly. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed by this.”

I swallow hard and stare down at my hands. “It’s my job to give Colton opportunities, to help him find joy after everything he’s lost. The last thing I want to do is tell him he can’t pursue something he loves because I can’t afford it.”

The words hang heavy in the car, the full weight of my inadequacy pressing down on my chest. I’ve spent years telling myself I’m enough for Colton, that I can give him the life he deserves. But moments like this expose the lie.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Valerie says, her voice gentle but firm. “Kids don’t need every opportunity—they need love, stability, and someone who believes in them. Which, by the way, you provide in abundance.”

I shake my head, not quite ready to accept her comfort.

“You should see him on the ice. He lights up in a way I haven’t seen since …

since before.” Before the accident. Before his entire world shattered.

“His dad was a hockey player in college. He used to talk about teaching Colton to skate, about coaching his team someday. And now Colton has this natural talent, this love for the game, and it’s like a piece of Brett living on through him. ” My voice cracks on the last words.

Valerie reaches over and squeezes my hand, her usual energetic demeanor softened by empathy. “That’s beautiful. And important.”

I nod, wiping at a stray tear that’s escaped despite my best efforts. “So, how do I tell him no? How do I explain that the one thing connecting him to his dad, the thing he’s genuinely good at and passionate about, is out of reach because I can’t figure out how to afford it?”

“Maybe you don’t have to tell him no,” Valerie says, a familiar spark of excitement returning to her eyes.

I shoot her a skeptical look. “I’ve gone through my budget a dozen different ways. Unless I start selling organs on the black market—which, tempting as it might be, I hear is frowned upon—I don’t see how—”

“The robotics team,” Valerie interrupts, straightening in her seat. “Coach it.”

I blink. “What?”

“The robotics team,” she repeats, her words picking up speed as her enthusiasm grows. “We still need a coach for this year. It comes with a stipend—three percent of your base salary.”

My mind is already calculating. It’s not enough to cover everything—maybe about half the cost, but it’s a significant start. And it’s not like I have many other options. I could try picking up private tutoring, but that’s inconsistent income at best. The robotics stipend would be guaranteed.

“The practices would be after school twice a week,” Valerie continues. “Plus, maybe some weekend competitions later in the spring.”

“Oh, I don’t know. That would mean even less time at home with Colton. More responsibilities on top of everything else.”

“You could bring Colton with you to practices when he doesn’t have hockey.

Set him up with homework in the corner. And,” she continues, not letting me get a word in, “I have no problem taking Colton and Aaron to hockey practice, assuming they both make the team, of course. I could also take Colton to his lessons. The rink is on my way home.”

Her enthusiasm is infectious, but I still hesitate.

More work. Less free time. A steeper learning curve than I’d planned for this year.

But also, the joy of watching Colton pursue something that connects him to his father.

The relief of not having to crush his dreams before they’ve even had a chance to take flight.

“Okay,” I say, the word coming out more decisively than I expected. “I’ll do it.”

Valerie lets out a whoop so loud that I jump in surprise. “Yes! Operation Hockey Funding is a go!” She claps her hands together. “This is going to be great, Ella. You’ll see. The kids will love you. And we’ll have Colton suited up and ready to go before you know it.”

I shake my head, but I’m smiling. “Your confidence is either delusional or inspiring. I haven’t decided which.”

“The line between delusion and inspiration is remarkably thin,” she says with a wink. “Aaron’s gonna be so excited. Those boys are attached at the hip.”

I grin. “They’ve pretty much become best friends.”

“It’s a good thing,” Valerie says as she pulls into the parking lot of a small diner. “Aaron hasn’t had many close friends. I think Colton is a great influence. And honestly, I’m happy to have you in my life, too.”

“Aww. Thanks. We’re happy to have you both in ours,” I tell her as she puts the car in park. I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out, following her into the diner.

I slide into the booth across from Valerie and pick up a menu. This diner is a quaint little place that feels like stepping back in time—maybe the 1940s? Before the internet existed .

“The burger is the best one in the city,” Valerie comments as she clasps her hands together on the table. “I know that sounds so cliché, but I mean it. It really is the best in town. You have to try it … if burgers are your thing.”

“Well, they’re definitely not not my thing.” I giggle and set the menu down.

As soon as the waitress appears, we both order a burger with fries. I add cheese to mine. Valerie leaves her plain.

“You know, I was thinking…” Valerie begins, after the waitress leaves. “We should get together with the boys outside of school sometime. It would be good for all of us.”

I nod eagerly, feeling a pang of desperation for socialization. “I think that would be amazing. Let’s do that! Actually—” I pause, thinking of the home game coming up for the Glaciers. “Maybe we could all go to a hockey game? Both our boys would enjoy it, and Kade can get us tickets.”

Valerie lights up. “Oh, Aaron would love that. He’s been dying to go to a game this year.”

“Okay, perfect,” I say, fishing my phone out of my pocket. “Let me text Kade and see if he can get us tickets for Friday.”

Valerie nods, and I can see the curiosity written all over her face. I don’t blame her for having it when it comes to Kade. I would, too, if I were in her shoes. But she has no idea of the warning label I’ve placed on him. Still, I pull up our boring text message thread and type out a message.

Me: Do you think you could get four tickets to Friday’s game? It would be for Colton, me, and then his friend and mom.

I chew on my lower lip as the read receipt pops up on the screen and three dots quickly follow.

Kade: I think I can handle that. Kids want jerseys, too? Do you want a jersey?

My heart flutters at the mention of me wearing his jersey.

I haven’t worn it since I was in high school, and the thought of slipping one on again feels …

intimate . However, I quickly shake it off.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of women now wear his jersey.

It can be purchased from their merch store. It’s not the same. It’s not special…

And there’s no reason for me to make it into something more.

Me: I’m sure the kids would love jerseys, but they don’t have to.

I look up at Valerie, who’s intently focused on me now with a cocked brow. “What?” I feel my cheeks heating up.

“So … You and Kade…?”

I let out a sigh. “It’s not what it seems. We’re … friends at best. Or maybe more like exes who still get along. ”

She nods, running her finger against the grain of the table. “Well, that sounds like a very loaded statement—and relationship. When did you two date?”

“Most of high school,” I admit, trying to shrug it off.

“Aww. Was he your first love?”

I nod, ignoring the pit in my stomach at the mention.

“There’s something really special about that first love. I’ve always heard that they’re irreplaceable in some ways. I wouldn’t know, because I didn’t really have one. I just got kind of tossed around by boyfriends until I landed my husband—well, ex- husband.”

“I suppose so.” As much as I want to pretend like there’s nothing special about a first love, everything is special about them. Well, about Kade. He was my first everything , and for some reason, it feels monumental.

“It’s cool that the two of you get along, though. It’s not that often exes can be amicable in a way that benefits both of them.”

“I don’t think he’s benefitting from anything,” I snort. “He insisted on giving Colton lessons for free. So, it’s not like he’s getting anything out of it…”

Valerie’s smile fades. “Of course, he’s getting something out of it.”

“And what’s that?”

“You, Ella. He’s getting you.”