CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

N oah

Coach shakes his head when Finn and I appear at the end of the tunnel. "Idiots."

I stiffen. Coach is acting like Finn and I delayed this whole event. I slide my gaze to Finn, but he's trembling.

Finn never trembles. He's Mr. Cocky himself.

Whatever. I turn to join the other players on the bench.

Coach clears his throat. "Go to the center of the ice."

"What?" I blink at him.

"You heard me." His pale blue eyes are narrow, and he points, as if the reason for the confusion was that I might not know what center of the ice means. "Skate out there. This was delayed enough. You, Finn, go now."

I look at Finn, but his face is grim and worried.

Are we going to be yelled at in front of the entire arena? No, no way. There's no reason for Finn to be anxious.

"Is everyone coming?" I look at the bench. Our teammates still sit there.

"Let's go, Noah," Finn says, even though the strained look on his face remains.

He starts skating, as if he's going to his execution.

"It will be fine!" I call after him.

He tenses, then turns around. I skate and join him.

"Whatever happens," I say under my breath. "It's just a bit of media."

"Yeah."

He doesn't look reassured .

I skate beside him, glimpsing his handsome, somber face. His jaw trembles.

We reach the center of the ice, and someone hands Finn a microphone. Maybe there was a reason why Finn needed to come to the ice. Guilt flares through me. But why did he bother to make sure I was alright and bring me with him?

Or maybe he doesn't want me on the ice with him. Is that the issue? But Coach knows we split...

Confusion crashes through me, and I stare at Finn. I hate the way my gaze still, after all this time, goes immediately to the way the bright lights ahead meet his chiseled cheekbones. His golden-brown curls are now slick with sweat, and some strands stick to his forehead. I want to smooth them away, but cameras are on us, and it's not my place to smooth away his hair anymore.

I wonder if the hits he got in the game were stronger than I thought, because he seems wobbly, and his breath comes out in more frequently spaced puffs. The cold air clings to my skin, more uncomfortable after the sweaty game.

"Hello everyone," Finn says into the microphone, but his gaze remains on me. "You're probably wondering what this event is. I promise it will be short."

Then he gives an awkward laugh, and I swear I can feel the audience cringe. Some of them shift, and the arena rumbles, like everyone is complaining to their spouse at once, and people start moving. They walk up the steps to exit the arena, and I see Finn shoot a terrified glance.

Are the owners watching? God, what is this? Why did Coach Holberg condone this? Maybe he wants to announce a lifetime achievement award? Or a new charity initiative? I could see why Finn would have been invited to present this. He's good at talking.

Or at least, he's usually good at talking.

Now he's a mess. He's more newborn colt than graceful NHL player.

"It's okay," I whisper. "It will be fine."

Finn's eyes soften. "Right. Some of you know that I married Noah Fitzpatrick after we won a game in Vegas."

I suck in a sudden jolt of air. I didn't expect him to mention our wedding. Why is he saying that?

Is he trying to explain to the public that we're getting divorced? Is this a PR finessing thing? Because why wasn't I contacted about this? There are a million things that could go wrong with trying to explain that to the public in person. I mean, it's not their business. And Finn could turn into an oddly nervous wreck, which seems to be what's happening now.

Did someone make him do this? I can't ask him what he's doing when he has a microphone in his hand, though the thought definitely occurs to me.

I look at the owner's box. Tanaka has an appalled look on his face, and I snap my gaze away to Coach Holberg. He looks appalled and anxious. Yeah, not an improvement. I then move my gaze to the players who look...confused.

Some of them are whispering. For some reason, Troy leans forward and rubs his hands together.

Huh. Is he not as close to Finn as I thought? Maybe it's a strange goalie thing.

"But some of you also know," Finn said, "that I tried to get an annulment for that marriage."

Everyone leans forward, and my legs wobble. It's all my body can do to keep my heart from sinking to the ground.

"I owe everyone an apology for that. But the main person I owe an apology to is my husband."

This is going to be all over the news.

The thought springs into my mind, and my heart gallops. No, this is not good.

I want to sink into the ice. I want to fling myself into the boards and tuck myself in the corner and not come out until the cleaning staff drags me. I absolutely do not want to stand on the ice, as I'm being filmed, as Finn explains to everyone that his marriage to me was bad.

Unless...

A thought occurs to me, but it's too absurd. No, I'm not going to hope for...that.

My heart thrums all the same.

I stare at Finn uncertainly and try to tell myself not to hope for the impossible.

God, I am so never getting over him. Maybe my activity in life is to love him, no matter if we're together or not. And maybe that's fine. Maybe that is why I am here on earth.

"I did want an annulment," Finn says into the microphone, and I flinch.

I have to say, this is not Finn's most lovable moment.

Clearly, I was absolutely foolish to hope for...that.

His eyes widen, as if he's said something he didn't want to, as if he's reading something on my face he doesn't like .

Was I supposed to look enthusiastic when he announces to the world his desire for an annulment?

"But that's because I didn't want to start our relationship tied to each other. I mean..." Finn rakes a hand through his golden-brown curls. "I'm saying this wrong. I'm sorry. What I mean to say is... Noah, will you marry me? For real?"

My eyes snap open.

I stare at him.

But maybe I misheard. I shift my feet, and my skates scrape over the ice.

I don't think I have any hearing difficulties, and I certainly don't think I'm prone to schizophrenic auditory illusions... But did Finn say what I thought he said? Or is my mind concocting what it wants to hear because it is simply too painful for me to hear anything else?

I stare at him, trying to understand. He is algebra and geometry, trigonometry and calculus.

"Noah?" Panic fills his eyes.

I stare at him. Am I supposed to speak?

"I love you, Noah," he says, his voice trembling. "Maybe from the moment I first saw you. I was drawn to you at once. I didn't think I would ever be making a speech like this in front of so many people, but I mean every word. You are my everything, and I don't want to have a life where you're not by your side."

I continue to stare.

He clears his throat, and does an awkward little chuckle, "of course if you say no, I will honor that. And not be creepy. And not insist you're at my side or anything." He squeezes his eyes shut as if bracing for a meteor to smash onto him.