Page 111 of Icebound Hearts

“No.” snaps, eyes begging with mine.” Lie to me.”

My breath catches. He knows. Of course, he knows. Aiden Knight isn’t stupid. He’s always seen through me in ways no one else ever has, cutting through my walls like they’re made of glass. But I can’t let him see this. I won’t. So I lift my chin, steel my spine, and say the one thing that will finally break him.

“I don’t love you, Aiden.” Silence.

A wreckage of silence, sharp and suffocating, stretching between us like the aftermath of a storm. Aiden doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just stares at me, his face unreadable, his entire body so still it’s terrifying.

He lets out a breath. Slow. Controlled. But his hands curl

into fists like he’s trying to hold himself together, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll fall apart.

I bite the inside of my cheek, willing myself to stay steady. To keep my face blank. To pretend this doesn’t hurt like hell.

Because it does, it kills me. But I don’t say another word.

Aiden inhales deeply, running a hand through his hair, before finally stepping back.

His voice is quiet when he speaks, rough at the edges. “Okay.” I don’t breathe.

“I won’t bother you anymore,” he adds, and the way he says it— the finality, the sheer emptiness in his tone—makes something shatter inside me.

I force myself to nod. “Good.”

Aiden turns, his movements slow and deliberate, and walks out the door. The second it clicks shut behind him, I crumble.

My knees buckle, my hands flying to my face as I gasp for breath as I break in the safety of my empty room because I just lost him. I just lost the only thing that ever made me feel alive. And the worst part?

I did it to myself.

Chapter Forty - five

AIDEN

I don’t remember walking out the door. All I remember is the sound of it clicking shut behind me. That tiny, final sound. Like a period at the end of a sentence you never wanted to read.

I don’t remember how I got to the rink. Or to the locker room. Or why I’m still sitting here in full gear, soaked in sweat and heartbreak, long after practice ended.

I just know that when she said she didn’t love me, something in me snapped—and then nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

Will’s voice cuts through the static in my head. “You gonna sit there all night, man?”

I don’t answer. Roman drops down onto the bench across from me, his expression unreadable but his eyes too damn knowing. “She said it, didn’t she?”

I glance at him, jaw locked. He already knows. Of course he does.

“She said she doesn’t love me.”

Will winces. Roman swears under his breath. I laugh, but it’s hollow. Bitter. “She kissed me like she meant it and said goodbye like she didn’t. Then she looked me in the eye and ripped me apart like it was easy.”

Silence stretches between the three of us.

“I thought I could handle it,” I say, my voice cracking. “I thought if she didn’t love me, I’d feel...angry. Numb. Something. But all I feel is empty. Like she reached in and took whatever was left of me with her.”

Roman leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You don’t believe her.”

“Does it matter?” I whisper. “She said it. She meant for me to hear it. That has to count for something.” I run a hand through my hair, exhaling hard as I lean back against the wall. My spine hits the cold surface, but I barely feel it. My mind’s not here. It’s somewhere else—locked in that night, stuck in the look on her face, the way everything shifted before I even understood what was happening.

“I fell in love with her that night, you know?” I say. My voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost like I’m admitting it to myself for the first time.

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