Page 51 of Your Biggest Downfall (Ravens Hockey #3)

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I stared at my silent phone, willing it to ring.

It was past four in the morning, and practice had ended hours ago.

I was at the arena late, so I saw the guys leave.

But I hadn’t heard anything from Austin.

I called, texted, and hoped he would walk through the front door, but there was absolutely nothing.

We had plans tomorrow morning. We were supposed to go to Emma’s cabin to celebrate surviving the first month of marriage without killing each other.

I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the front door, my legs tucked beneath me as panic clawed at my throat.

My fingers fidgeted with the edge of a pillow, twisting it until the fabric strained under my grip.

What if something happened?

My mind darted from one worst-case scenario to the next. Maybe he got in trouble, maybe he was hurt... or worse.

God, why hadn’t he called?

I stood up, unable to sit still any longer, and began pacing the stark living room.

The apartment felt as cold and empty as the silence that filled it.

The house was full of bare walls and uncomfortable furniture.

No photos, no cozy touches—just a vacant shell that lacked any warmth or sign of real life.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

The walls felt like they were closing in on me. I kept glancing at the door, half expecting him to walk in any minute, grinning and telling me I was overreacting.

But he didn’t. And I was losing it.

What if he got into an accident?

The thought clamped down hard, my chest tightening. I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots, hoping the physical sensation would somehow pull me out of my spiral.

Another glance at the clock—5:00 a.m. It had been hours. Hours of silence, of worry gnawing at the edges of my sanity.

I grabbed my phone again, my thumb hovering over his name in my recent call list. I’d already called a dozen times. I sent another text, my fingers trembling as I typed.

Me: Where are you? Please, please answer. I’m worried.

I hit send and stared at the message thread. Still nothing.

I tossed my phone onto the couch, frustration bubbling up inside me, and began pacing again. The soft padding of my footsteps on the carpet was the only sound breaking the suffocating quiet of the room.

What if he didn’t want to come home?

I hated that thought, hated the sharp twist of doubt in my gut.

But what else was I supposed to think? We’d celebrated our one-month anniversary.

Things were supposed to be good. We were supposed to be in that blissful newlywed phase.

But instead, here I was, pacing the living room at five in the morning, wondering why my husband hadn’t come home.

All I could think of was that I had pushed him too much.

It was too fast for him, and maybe he’d turned to drugs again.

Everyone else was right.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The fear, the frustration, the endless silence—it was too much.

My hands shook as I reached for my phone again, scrolling through my contacts with shaky fingers until I found Luna’s name.

We hadn’t spoken since I’d left the apartment.

Things had been awkward, distant, but none of that mattered.

I needed to hear someone’s voice, even if she was going to tell me she was right all along.

I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

My stomach twisted into knots.

It was logical that she wouldn’t answer. It was the crack of dawn, and she was likely sleeping. Yet, the silence was ruining me.

Just as I was about to hang up, her voice came through, groggy but alert. “Hey... What’s going on?”

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally welling up.

“Luna, I—I’m freaking out,” I stammered, my voice thick with fear.

“Austin hasn’t come home. He’s not answering.

It’s been hours, and I don’t know what to do.

” My words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other, barely coherent through the tightness in my throat.

“You were right, Luna. I pushed him. I pushed him too fast. He was supposed to be here and now he’s gone. ”

“Wait, slow down,” she said, her voice soft but firm, pulling me back from the edge of full-blown panic. “When was the last time you heard from him?”

I sank onto the couch again, burying my face in my hands.

“Before practice this morning. Everything seemed fine. He was supposed to be home hours ago, and we have plans tomorrow, but I... God, Luna, I’m so scared.

” The tears spilled over, hot and fast, as the fear that had been building inside me finally broke free.

“It’s okay,” Luna said, trying to soothe me. “I’ll come over. Send me the address.”

“You don’t have to.” I shook my head. A long silence stretched between us. “Mami isn’t doing well, Lune. She’s... going to die soon.” I paused. “Her cancer—it’s progressed to stage four. Aunt Mae said the oncologist called it metastatic. It’s everywhere now.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt. She knew I needed to get this out.

“They’ve tried everything,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Chemo, radiation, immunotherapy—they’ve all stopped working. Aunt Mae said... said her body isn’t responding to treatment anymore. Her liver functions are declining, and there’s fluid in her lungs. They call it pleural effusion.”

More silence. I hated the silence. I hated that in the times of quiet, I could fill the space with my relentless thoughts.

“I’ll be over in twenty minutes,” Luna said, cutting through the chaos in my mind. “Let me call the boys and see if they know where Austin went after practice.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying, barely recognizable. “Thank you.”

I ended the call and collapsed onto the couch, my body heavy with exhaustion, but my mind was a storm I couldn’t shut off.

Thoughts of what could’ve happened to him spun in endless loops, each more terrifying than the last. I tried to force my eyes shut, to give myself a moment of rest, but every time I came close, another wave of fear jolted me awake.

It felt like I had been lost in that desperate cycle for hours, but it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes when my phone rang again.

My heart surged, hope momentarily cutting through the fog of fear, only to crash into a wall of disappointment when I saw Luna’s name on the screen.

But even through the disappointment, there was relief—at least she was here.

“I’m pulling up. Come downstairs,” she said, her voice steady but urgent. “I found him.”