Page 6 of Boards & Betrayal

Goddamn Lifetime Achievement Award… What good was it if all it did was remind me of everything I couldn’t achieve off the ice?

I leaned back in my chair, remote in hand, and flicked on the TV in my office. The highlight reel of Crestwood’s hockey season started to play, each frame a reminder of the boys’ hard work and dedication. They skated across the screen with speed and precision, executing plays I’d drilled into their heads a thousand times.

The screen shifted to our final game—a championship win that should’ve filled me with pride. Instead, it felt like a hollow victory. Watching them celebrate, I couldn’t shake the emptiness gnawing at my insides.

And then, the reel cut to an unexpected clip. Nick dominating on the ice in his NHL jersey. He moved like a force of nature, every stride powerful and confident. He was everything I’d ever wanted to be—everything I’d wanted for him.

A pang of pride surged through me, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of fury. It was like watching my own dreams play out on someone else’s stage. I clenched my fists as Nick scored an impossible goal, the crowd roaring in approval.

My son was a goddamn asshole. After I gave up everything to do right by him and his mom, he still turned out to be an asshole.

Even before Ally came into the picture, things with Nick were rocky because of Janet. My ex had a knack for slithering between us like some goddamn snake, always playing the damsel in distress. And Nick? He was so fucking willing to save her every time.

It made me sick.

She’d call him up with some bullshit sob story about needing money or help with something trivial, and he’d drop everything to run to her aid. He was her baby and her man, all in one fucking package. And he ate it up. How the fuck he won over Ally, I had no fucking clue.

Then again, he lost her just the same.

The clip ended abruptly, cutting back to Crestwood’s celebrations. But my mind stayed locked on Nick—the son who had everything I lost and yet seemed so far out of reach.

I turned off the TV and sat there in silence, feeling the weight of all my regrets pressing down on me like a lead blanket.

The screen went black, leaving me in silence. My mind, restless as ever, drifted away from the celebration highlights and back to her—Ally.

Months had passed since that night, but the memory of her was sharp and clear. Her auburn hair spilling over the pillow, the way her blue eyes locked onto mine with a mix of challenge and vulnerability. She had a way of cutting through my bullshit like no one else.

What was it about her that stayed with me? Was it the guilt, knowing she was Nick's ex? Or was it something deeper, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on?

The way she looked at me when we first met—like she saw right through the hardened exterior to the man buried beneath. It had unnerved me, made me feel exposed in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

And she was so goddamn young.

I tried to push those thoughts aside, focus on anything else—the awards ceremony, the upcoming season—but they lingered like a shadow at the edge of my mind. There was a pull towards her that I couldn’t explain, a magnetic force drawing me back to that night.

The guilt gnawed at me. What happened between us wasn’t just a one-time mistake; it felt like something more, something I wasn’t ready to confront. Especially with Nick in the picture.

Especially after what happened when he found out.

And yet, despite all this—despite knowing how complicated and wrong it was—I couldn’t shake her from my mind. The memory of her smile, soft and genuine in those rare moments when she let her guard down. The way she talked about her photography with such passion and dedication.

There was so much I didn’t know about what happened after our encounter. Where did she go? How did she cope? Did she ever think about that night the way I did?

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling again, trying to force these thoughts away. But they clung to me like burrs on fabric, refusing to let go.

The emptiness inside me seemed to grow with every passing second, an abyss that nothing could fill—not awards or victories or even grudging respect from my peers.

All I could think about was Ally and how everything had become so goddamn complicated since that night.

My computer pinged, cutting through the silence. I glanced at the screen, already dreading what I knew was coming. The official invitation for the awards ceremony had arrived via email.

I clicked it open, my eyes scanning over the details. It was all laid out: the date, the time, the venue. The usual bullshit fanfare for a Lifetime Achievement Award. They even included a section on “formal attire,” like I needed a reminder of how to dress.

As I stared at the invitation, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it. Sure, I’d already agreed to go—mostly to get Dave off my back—but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The thought of all that attention on me made my skin crawl. Cameras flashing, reporters asking questions about my career and my plans. Hell, maybe even about Nick.

About being arrested.

About that fucking confrontation.

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