Page 115 of Icebound Hearts

I go to the rink later that afternoon, but the second I step inside, I know I made a mistake. Because Aiden is there. And he’s not alone.

He’s standing by the boards, talking to a girl I vaguely recognize—one of the hockey groupies, the kind that flocks to the team after big games. She’s laughing at something he said, reaching out to touch his arm, and he lets her.

He lets her.

One day! It took him one day to move on.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped moving until Alexei steps up beside me, following my gaze. He exhales sharply. “Kat—”

“I don’t care,” I say quickly, my voice clipped. I force my feet to move, heading toward the ice like I didn’t just feel my stomach implode.

Alexei doesn’t push, but I feel his gaze burning into me.

The entire practice is a disaster. My jumps are shaky, my turns too stiff, my focus gone. Every time I try to get out of my head, my eyes betray me, flicking toward where Aiden is standing by the glass, completely unbothered, like I don’t even exist. Good. That’s what I wanted, right?

Then why does it feel like I can’t breathe?

I push harder, throwing myself into a triple lutz, but my blade catches the ice wrong— And I fall.

Hard.

The impact rattles through me, knocking the wind from my lungs, pain flaring across my knee and wrist as I slide across the ice.

A rush of movement—voices, skates scraping to a stop—

Aiden is there before I even register the pain, his gloved hand reaching for me.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is tight, controlled, but his eyes—his eyes betray him. Because they’re frantic, flickering over me, checking for injuries, for damage.

I hate it. I hate that he still cares.

So I push his hand away and pull myself up, forcing my expression blank.

“I’m fine.” Aiden’s jaw tightens.

“Kat—”

“I said I’m fine,” I snap, brushing past him, skating back toward Alexei before I can break all over again.

Aiden doesn’t stop me and he doesn’t call after me. He just watches me go and when I finally glance back, his expression is unreadable, his body rigid. I hurt him.

And now he’s hurting me back. The ache in my knee is nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

After practice I sit in the locker room, pressing an ice pack against my leg, staring at nothing in particular. The rink is empty now—everyone else has left. Even Alexei, after sending me a long, pointed look, decided not to push me further. But Aiden?

He hadn’t said a word. Not when I fell. Not when I snapped at him. Not when I skated off without looking back. And for the first time in my life, I don’t know what hurts more—the silence or the distance.

I go back to the figure skating house instead of the hockey house. It’s safer there. Less reminders. Less temptation to go back to him. Alina isn’t there when I arrive, which means I’m left alone with my thoughts, and I hate it. I busy myself, grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of leggings before hopping in the shower, letting the scalding water burn away the tension in my muscles.

It doesn’t help.

Because no matter how much I try to ignore it, my mind keeps replaying the moment I pushed Aiden’s hand away. The flash ofsomething raw in his eyes. The way he clenched his jaw, like he was barely holding himself together.

I did that.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my forehead against the shower tile.

---