Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
@HatTrickHustle:
“The chemistry in this kitchen is better than some lineups I’ve seen on the ice. Can we draft Riley to coach the Icebreakers?”
EPILOGUE
RILEY
The arena is electric. Even though the final buzzer has sounded, the crowd is still buzzing, reluctant to let the moment end. The scoreboard may say it all—3-2, a hard-fought loss in the championship game—but there’s an undeniable sense of pride in the air. The team made it further than expected, especially after losing Jacob mid-season.
I glance at him now, sitting beside me in the stands. He’s not wearing his usual tough-guy scowl, just a quiet, contemplative look as he watches the team he once played for line up to shake hands with their opponents. His arm drapes over my shoulders, pulling me closer, and I lean into him, relishing the warmth and solidity of his presence.
“They battled,” I say into his ear, my voice loud enough to carry over the noise.
“They did.” His voice has that low, gravelly tone that always makes my chest tighten, and he doesn’t have to say more. I know what he’s thinking. This could have been his moment: the championship, the spotlight, the chance to prove he’s not just Carl Drayton’s son but Jacob Drayton, a force to be reckoned on his merit. But life doesn’t always play out the way we think it will. It can kick us and leave us reeling. Or, in Jacob’s case, force us to look at the path we’re traveling on and decide whether we want to continue.
Ice hockey had been an anchor for Jacob, a point on the horizon that was not about intention or a love for the sport but a way of proving something to himself and the world. Letting go was tough. Waking up and finding himself adrift was terrifying. But he had me and his brothers, and when he finally started receiving treatment and gave his body and mind a chance to rest and heal, he realized he was anchoring himself to someone else’s dream.
His father, such a big and negative presence in his life, is being forgiven in parts and pieces as their understanding has grown. And with that forgiveness, the ball of fire and fury that had propelled Jacob for most of his life burned down to a flickering flame, barely noticeable. Some things are too painful to forgive, though, but that’s okay, too.
Now, he’s focused on a different path that is all his own, and I’m privileged to have been able to guide his journey and join him on the road to somewhere new.
Skarsgard, the kid who stepped into Jacob’s shoes, pulled off a solid performance in the playoffs. He doesn’t have Jacob’s grit or experience, but he has heart, which counted for a lot tonight.
“He’s not you,” I say, nudging Jacob gently.
He lets out a soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that makes my heart skip. He doesn’t miss hockey, but there will always be a part of him that’s muscle memory and misses being a part of something big and important.
And a part that misses the adulation.
“No, but he’s good and he’ll be even better next season.”
Below us, the team skates off the ice, their heads held high despite the loss. The crowd stands, cheering them on, and my eyes find Hayes as he lingers near the bench. He removes his helmet, wipes the sweat from his brow, and glances around the arena like he’s trying to soak it all in.
“His last game,” I say, my voice tinged with sadness.
Jacob nods, squeezing my hand. “It’s what he wants. He’s ready for the next chapter.”
Hayes has been the rock of this team, both on and off the ice, so watching him hang up his skates is like the end of an era, but I know he’s got big plans. He’s going to use his experience to train to assist athletes in crisis. Calm, stoic, and logical, he’s going to be brilliant.
And then there’s Shawn.
I watch him on the ice, leaning casually against the boards, interviewing like a Hollywood heartthrob on the red carpet, all languid posture and cocky smile. Even from a distance, charm radiates from him like the sun’s warm rays, lulling even the most challenging reporter into asking easy questions. But his eyes speak of something different: the determination that’s been burning brighter ever since he put out a statement in response to the photos that could have destroyed his career and promised to clean up his act.
He catches my gaze and winks, his grin widening.
Jacob snorts beside me. “Still a show-off.”
“Always,” I reply, grinning. “But you have to admit, he’s come a long way.”
“Yeah,” Jacob says, his tone softer now. “Maybe one day he’ll get his hands on the Cup.”
The Stanley Cup. The dream that’s loomed over the Drayton brothers since they were kids. It might not have happened for Carl, Jacob, or Hayes, but Shawn? With his talent and fire and how he takes everything in his stride, it’s easy to imagine him lifting it one day. Only time, and a little luck, will tell