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Chapter Thirty-Three

Troy

Savannah’s lying in the hospital bed, looking pale but calm. Jamie’s pacing by the window, glancing at her every two seconds like she’s gonna vanish if he looks away too long. Jared’s on his phone, probably handling work. Me? I’m just sitting here, trying to figure out how the hell we’re supposed to handle triplets.

Triplets. Fucking triplets . The word bounces around in my head like a puck in a bad game.

Dr. Hill finally comes back in, clipboard in hand. “Well, everything looks stable. We’re going to discharge Savannah, but she needs to rest. No stress, plenty of fluids, and light activity only. And I mean it—no exceptions.”

I nod like I’m the responsible one in the room, even though my heart’s pounding. “Got it, doc. No stress. We’ll wrap her in bubble wrap if we have to.”

Savannah gives me a weak smile. “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

“No, but you’re carrying three tiny humans,” Jamie shoots back, stopping mid-pace to point at her like she needs the reminder. “So yeah, bubble wrap sounds about right.”

Jared finally looks up from his phone. “I’ve got a meeting in the morning, so I can’t stay long, but I’ll help get you home first.” He tucks his phone into his pocket and stands. “Troy, you good to handle Noah tonight?”

“Yeah, man, of course.” I nod, already making a mental checklist of baby stuff. Diapers, bottles, bedtime routine. The kid’s easier than managing Jamie’s freak-outs anyway.

Savannah sits up slowly, wincing a little. “I can take care of Noah…”

“Like hell you can,” I cut her off, standing to help her. “You heard the doc. No stress. Noah’s my job tonight.”

Jamie steps in, offering her his arm. “And we’re making sure you don’t lift a damn finger.” He looks at her, all soft and serious. “Can I stay the night? I just…wanna be close. Make sure you’re okay.”

Savannah nods, her eyes watery. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

I grab her bag and mutter, “Guess that makes me the designated Noah wrangler. And Jared’s stuck with the dog.”

Jared snorts. “Sure. I’ll take the dog. Not like I don’t already have a million things on my plate.”

“Cry me a river, lawyer boy,” I shoot back, trying to lighten the mood. It kinda works—Savannah laughs, a soft little sound that makes me feel like maybe we’re doing okay.

Back at the house, it’s a whirlwind to get Savannah settled. Jamie fusses over her like a mother hen, fluffing pillows and tucking blankets around her like she’s some fragile doll. I get Noah ready for bed, his little giggles making the stress of the night fade just a bit.

“All right, buddy,” I whisper, laying him down in his crib. “Uncle Troy’s got you tonight. Sweet dreams, okay?”

Noah coos back at me, and I grin like an idiot. Kid’s got me wrapped around his tiny finger.

I head back to the living room, where Jared’s got the dog on a leash, ready to head out. “You good?” he asks, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him.

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, man.”

He nods, his serious lawyer face back in place. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I say, and he’s out the door.

***

Jamie’s sitting on the couch next to Savannah, his arm around her shoulders. I plop down on the other side, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees.

“So,” I start, looking between them. “Triplets. What the hell does that even mean for us?”

Jamie groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It means we’re gonna need a bigger house. And a bigger car. And a shit-ton of diapers.”

Savannah laughs weakly. “Don’t forget about the endless sleepless nights.”

I shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around it. “I mean, four kids. At once. That’s…that’s a lot.”

“No kidding,” Jamie mutters.

Savannah looks at both of us, her expression softening. “I know it’s a lot. But we’ll figure it out, right? Together?”

“Damn right we will,” I say without hesitation. “I’m all in. Whatever it takes.”

Jamie nods, his hand tightening around hers. “Same here. We’ll make it work. Somehow.”

We fall into silence for a bit, the weight of the situation settling over us. But it’s not a bad kind of silence. It’s the kind where you know you’re all in it together, no matter how messy it gets.

“All right,” I say finally, clapping my hands together. “First step: figure out how to tell people. Second step: survive the next, uh…eighteen or so years.”

Savannah laughs again, and Jamie rolls his eyes. “Real helpful, Troy.”

“Hey, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” I shoot back, smirking.

Savannah leans her head on Jamie’s shoulder, her eyes drifting closed. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” Jamie murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She smiles, and for the first time all night, I feel like maybe—just maybe—we’ve got this.

***

The locker room feels off the second I walk in. Everyone’s quiet. Too quiet. Finn’s sitting on a bench, staring at the floor, and Axel’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, jaw tight. I toss my bag down and look around.

“What the hell’s going on?” I ask, unzipping my jacket. “Did someone die, or is FlexPro backing out of the deal?”

Finn shakes his head, not even looking up. “It’s worse than that.”

“Worse?” I glance at Axe. “What’s worse than losing our sponsor?”

Axel straightens, pushing off the wall. “Just wait. Coach’ll be in any second. He’s the one who’s gotta tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I snap, my patience already wearing thin. “Would someone just say it?”

But before anyone can answer, Coach Nate walks in, his expression grim. He claps his hands once, the sound sharp in the dead-silent room.

“All right, I know you’ve all heard the rumors,” he starts, his voice steady but heavy.

“What rumors?” I blurt out, looking around at the guys. “Am I the only one out of the loop here?”

“It’s true,” Coach says, ignoring my question. “The trade’s off.”

There’s a collective murmur through the room, a mix of confusion and frustration. I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay, and? Trades fall through all the time. What’s the big deal?”

Coach lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging like the weight of this is getting to him too. “At the end of the season, the Chicago Icebreakers are going through some changes. Big ones.”

“Changes?” Declan’s the first to pipe up, leaning forward with a scowl. “What kind of changes?”

Coach hesitates, and I don’t like it. Nate’s not the type to sugarcoat shit, so if he’s holding back, it’s gotta be bad.

“The rumors are true,” he says finally. “There’s going to be a merger. With the Blackhawks.”

For a second, nobody says anything. Then the room explodes.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Declan shouts, standing up so fast the bench scrapes against the floor.

“Merger?” Finn echoes, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger.

“They’ve been our fucking rivals for years!” Axel growls, slamming his fist into the locker.

I stare at Coach, trying to process his words. A merger? With them ?

“You can’t be serious,” I say, my voice low but sharp. “The Blackhawks? The team we’ve been beating into the ice every season? How the hell is that supposed to work?”

“I don’t have all the details yet,” Coach admits, holding up his hands to calm us down. “But I know it’s happening. The decision’s coming from way above me.”

Declan lets out a bitter laugh. “This is bullshit. They play like crap, and now we’re supposed to carry them? What happens to our roster? Half of us gonna get benched so their dead weight can skate?”

Nobody answers him, but the tension in the room spikes. I glance over at Carter, who’s sitting quietly in the corner, not saying a damn word. That’s not like him. He’s usually the loudest guy in here, cracking jokes or riling everyone up.

“Carter,” I call out. “You’ve been awfully quiet. You know something we don’t?”

He shrugs, not even looking up. “What’s there to say? It’s a shit deal, but it’s done. Nothing we can do about it.”

“That’s it?” I snap, stepping toward him. “You’re just gonna roll over and take it?”

“Hey,” Finn cuts in, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Cool it, Troy. We’re all pissed, all right?”

“Yeah, well, some of us are more pissed than others,” I mutter, yanking my shoulder free.

Coach claps his hands again, louder this time. “All right, enough. I get it—you’re angry. So am I. But we’ve got practice to get through. Let’s focus on that, and I’ll keep working on getting us some answers.”

“Practice?” Declan repeats, his tone full of disbelief. “You expect us to just skate around like nothing’s happening?”

“Yes, I do,” Coach says firmly. “Because sitting here bitching about it isn’t gonna change anything.”

The room falls silent again, but the tension’s still thick. Reluctantly, we all start suiting up, muttering under our breaths. I glance over at Finn as we lace up our skates.

“This is the worst-case scenario, isn’t it?” I ask quietly.

Finn nods grimly. “Yeah. It really is.”