Page 35 of The Love Comeback (Glaciers Hockey #3)

“Well, yes, of course, we don’t want that,” he concedes, though I can hear the disappointment. “But you’ll be pushing to return as soon as it’s safe, right? The team has a real shot at another Cup this year.”

A few months ago, I would’ve agreed without hesitation. But now…

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” I ask, surprising myself with the words. “If I didn’t make it back for the playoffs. If this was the end?”

Silence stretches across the line, so much so that I wonder if the call dropped.

“Kade,” he finally says, his voice careful, measured. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying I want my career to be over,” I clarify, struggling to articulate the thoughts I didn’t even realize I had until this very moment. “I’m just saying that if it was, I’ve had a good run. I’m not twenty anymore. And there are other things I want in my life.”

“What other things?” He sounds genuinely bewildered, and I almost laugh. As if a life without hockey is incomprehensible .

“A family,” I say simply. “Love. A future with someone who matters to me.”

I hear the phone being passed again, my mother’s voice returning. “Are you talking about Ella? Nate mentioned she was at the game last night.”

Of course Nate told them. No secrets in the Santos family, even after all these years.

“Yes,” I confirm, my voice growing stronger.

“So now that Ella’s back in your life, you’re thinking about … what, exactly? Retiring? Throwing away everything you’ve worked for?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” I reply, frustration edging into my voice. “I’m just finally acknowledging that there’s more to life than hockey. That I want more. And yes, that includes Ella.”

“But your career—” Dad starts.

“My career is fine,” I cut him off, wincing as the increased volume makes my head pound. “I’ve played six seasons. I’ve been an All-Star. I’ve won a Cup. I’ve done everything I set out to do.”

“But you’re still in your prime,” he argues. “You could play for another several years.”

“Maybe I will,” I say. “Or maybe I won’t. The point is, it’s my decision to make. And I’m not gonna let hockey be the only thing in my life anymore. And I’m definitely not gonna let you guys try to convince me again that I have to choose between Ella or hockey. That I couldn’t have both.”

More silence, heavy with unspoken history.

“You’re saying she’s worth risking your career over?” Mom asks, her voice hesitant.

“Yes, she is. She always was. I just didn’t have the courage to admit it ten years ago.”

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. The monitors beside my bed beep a little faster as my heart rate increases with my heightened emotions.

“Look, I’m a grown man who’s capable of making my own decisions.

And I’ve decided there’s more to life than hockey.

I’m not throwing my career away, but I am choosing Ella, whether you like it or not,” I say with conviction.

“And honestly, if you two can’t support that, then maybe we need to reconsider what our relationship looks like going forward. ”

I’ve never spoken to my parents like this before. Never drawn a line in the sand. Their sharp breath tells me they’re just as shocked as I am.

“Kade,” my dad says after a moment, his voice softer than before. “We only ever wanted what was best for you.”

“I know,” I acknowledge. “But you don’t get to decide what that is anymore. I do.”

Another silence falls, but this one feels different. Less tense, more contemplative .

“You’re right,” my mom finally says, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re absolutely right, and I owe you an apology.”

“We both do,” my father adds. “We were wrong to pressure you back then. To make you feel like you had to choose.”

The admission hits me harder than I expected.

For years, I’ve carried the weight of that choice, the guilt of hurting Ella, the responsibility for our broken relationship. To hear them acknowledge their role in it feels like a burden lifting from my shoulders.

“We were just scared,” Mom confesses. “Your father and I struggled so much. We didn’t want that for you. We thought if you focused completely on hockey, you’d have the security we never did.”

“I understand that,” I say, my voice gentler now. “But you have to understand something, too. The way I felt about Ella then, the way I feel about her now—it’s not something I can just set aside. Ella and Colton mean the world to me.”

There’s a pause, and then my father clears his throat. “Well, then. It sounds like we’d better have Ella and Colton over for dinner soon.”

I blink, not sure I’ve heard him correctly. “What?”

“We want you to be happy, Kade,” Mom adds. “That’s all we’ve ever wanted. And to be clear, we like Ella a lot. Always have.”

The words wash over me like a balm, soothing wounds I didn’t realize were still open. “Thank you. That means a lot. ”

“We love you, son,” Dad says. “Just focus on getting better right now. The rest will sort itself out.”

After a few more minutes of conversation—focused on my recovery rather than my career—we hang up. I set the phone down on the bedside table, my head spinning.

For so long, I’ve been living with the ghost of my parents’ expectations, letting their fears and ambitions shape my choices. Even after I made it to the NHL, even after I achieved everything they’d dreamed for me, I still felt the weight of their influence in my decision-making.

But not anymore.

I stare up at the ceiling, feeling a strange sense of peace despite the pain pulsing through my head. The concussion has left me dizzy and nauseous, my vision still blurring around the edges. But my thoughts have never been clearer.

I love Ella Smart.

I’ve never stopped loving her.

And if there’s even the smallest chance that she loves me back—that those words I heard weren’t just a desperate plea in a moment of fear—then I’m going to fight for her. For us. For the future we should’ve had all along.