35. Nelly

Chapter 35

Nelly

I hadn’t wanted to come tonight, but Matty had begged me to watch his dad play, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him no, not when it was one of the biggest games of the season, and he didn’t have school the next day.

There was no pre-skate today for the kids, so we showed up just before the game began. The Peach Arena buzzed with electric energy, the kind that made your body hum even if you weren’t a fan, from the moment we walked in. Fans decked out in jerseys and scarves waved signs and foam fingers from around us, their cheers already deafening even though the ice was empty save for Coach Casey and a few others. Matty perched beside me, his feet dangling from his seat, his body bouncing like he might just spontaneously combust if the game didn’t start soon.

“Daddy’s gonna win, I think,” he said, his wide eyes glimmering under the bright lights from above, fixed intently on the opening in the boards where they’d come through.

“We can definitely hope for that,” I said, forcing a bit of a smile as I pushed a stray wave of brown hair from his face. I’d worn Seb’s spare jersey, the one he’d given me before to wear to a game and the one I’d accidentally left in the drawer when I’d picked one out that night in his room. It felt wrong, repping him — especially when things were so tense between us.

We’d barely spoken since I’d walked out on him. I’d made myself physically sick thinking about the words I’d said, the parallels to what he’d told me Taryn had started believing. I wondered if she’d said something like that to him, wondered if I’d unintentionally cut him deep enough to leave a mark, and vomited up everything in my stomach at the idea of it.

I understood the saying now. Hurt people hurt people.

And maybe we were both guilty of that. But even if he’d done what I thought he had, he didn’t deserve to have that brought back up for him.

The players bursting onto the ice dragged me back to my surroundings, and the crowd around us in matching jerseys roared their approval. My chest clenched when I spotted Sebastian skating out, his movements fluid and confident despite the limp I’d seen him walking around with for days now.

“There he is!” Matty squealed, pointing down to the ice. “Hi, Daddy!”

Seb didn’t hear him, of course, not over the screaming crowd and the music blasting, but it didn’t matter. Matty was grinning so wide I was worried his face would split in two.

The sight of Seb was somehow both comforting and utterly unbearable. He looked so at home out there, so confident around his teammates, even though I knew Bryan was down there somewhere. He looked like this was where he needed to be .

“Did you know that Daddy is the best on the team?” Matty said, his little nose sticking straight up like a tiny hockey snob.

“He definitely is,” I chuckled.

Matty sat back as the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the Atlanta Fire and the away team — the Miami Sharks. The game started before I could even process what was happening, the puck dropping and immediately being fought over with brutal precision.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes, and I found myself gripping the edge of my seat just like Matty, drawn into the intensity far more than I’d ever been. Something about the crowd, the people, and the five-year-old beside me made this feel like so much more than the average game.

This one was important. This was a part of playoffs, and this one needed to be won.

Sebastian skated like his life depended on it, weaving between defenders, his focus unshakable. He was entirely in his element, shouting across the ice — it was almost impossible not to admire him for it. Even bogged down with the hurt and anger and regret I was carrying, I couldn’t deny the pull he had, and I couldn’t deny how much he dragged me in, even from up here.

The crowd erupted around us as a shot was blocked by the opposing goalie, the rebound bouncing out toward Sebastian. He snagged it, darting across the ice?—

“That’s it!” Matty shrieked, jumping from his seat the moment Seb slid across the ice. “His forward cross-over!”

I turned to look at him, my brows knitting in confusion. “The thing he was struggling with?”

Matty nodded ferociously, his eyes locked on Seb below, and I turned, watching as he spun a pass off to who I was almost positive was Luke, the two of them passing it between them until Seb rocketed it off toward a center, nearly missing, and?—

“GOAL!” Matty screamed, leaping up in excitement as the horn blared from above.

We’d scored, thanks to Seb’s assist. I clapped and hollered along with the crowd, caught in the infectious energy of everyone’s excitement. The part of me that felt heavy and conflicted over being here at all became smaller, tucking away neatly in the back of my mind.

The game continued, and I found myself relaxing, bit by bit, even when the other team scored and we sat in a tie. It was impossible to fight it with Matty’s excitement beside me and the never-ending happy shouts from around us, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel like the hurt I was carrying was all I had. It felt like I could handle them. Like I could still enjoy things, enjoy people and nights like this, enjoy Seb, even with it raging inside of me at the level it was.

It felt like maybe I could make room to feel the way I felt and still be okay.