Page 128 of Across the Boards

“Specifically, Seattle.” The words come out before I’ve fully processed them, but the moment they’re spoken, I know they’re right. “I’d like to request a trade if possible, but if not, I’ll be looking at Seattle as a free agent.”

“Seattle.” His expression shifts to understanding. “Where Elliot Waltman recently relocated.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’s quiet for a moment, considering. “You know, Carter, in my thirty years in hockey management, I’ve learned a few things about what makes players perform at their best. One of those things is happiness off the ice.”

I wait, uncertain where he’s going with this.

“The happiest I’ve seen you play was those few weeks when Waltman was in the picture.” He says this matter-of-factly. “Your performance stats back that up. The team notices these things.”

“I didn’t realize it was so obvious.”

“Professional athletes aren’t known for their emotional subtlety.” A hint of humor breaks through his professional demeanor. “Look, I can’t promise a trade—that depends on Seattle’s interest, cap space, timing. But I can tell you we won’t stand in your way if that’s what you decide is best for your future.”

Relief washes through me—one potential obstacle removed. “I appreciate that, sir.”

“Don’t make any public statements about this yet,” he cautions. “Let’s get through playoffs, handle the suspension, then address contract talks formally. But in the meantime, I’ll have a conversation with Seattle’s GM. Test the waters.”

“Thank you.”

As he walks away, a weight lifts from my shoulders. Not a solution yet, but a path forward. A concrete step toward closing the distance between Elliot and me.

The team meeting that afternoon is predictably somber—a playoff series tied 1-1, key players suspended, the pressure mounting. I sit in the back, cast conspicuous on my hand, listening as Coach outlines adjustments for Game 3 without Martinez or me in the lineup.

Afterward, Tommy corners me in the parking lot.

“You look different,” he observes. “Less like someone kicked your puppy. What changed?”

“I talked to Richards.” I unlock my car. “Asked about the possibility of a trade to Seattle.”

Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Bold move. What did he say?”

“That he’d look into it. That the organization wouldn’t stand in my way.” I shrug, trying to downplay the significance. “It’s just a first step.”

“It’s more than a step—it’s a whole damn staircase.” He grins. “About time you did something besides mope and throw punches.”

“I haven’t even talked to Elliot about it,” I caution. “For all I know, she’d be horrified at the thought of me following her to Seattle.”

“Only one way to find out.” Tommy glances at his watch. “Want to grab dinner? Sarah’s got some work event tonight.”

“Actually,” I say, making a decision, “I need to book a flight.”

“To Seattle?” His grin widens. “Now we’re talking.”

“After the suspension. After our playoff run ends—whether that’s next week or in the finals.” I need to do this right, not impulsively. “I need time to plan. To figure out exactly what I’m going to say. How I’m going to convince her that we’re worth another chance.”

“Romantic gestures? Grand declarations? Rose petals?” Tommy suggests, only half-joking.

“Something more subtle.” I know Elliot—know that flashy gestures would embarrass rather than impress her. “Something that shows I see her. Really see her.”

“Whatever you decide, I’m glad you’re finally doing something.” He claps me on my uninjured shoulder. “Let me know if you need help. Sarah’s got opinions about what would work with Elliot.”

“I bet she does.” I smile, the expression feeling foreign after weeks of forced neutrality. “Thanks, Tommy. For the kick in the ass last night. I needed it.”

“Anytime. That’s what friends are for.”

As I drive home, possibilities unfold in my mind. Not just vague hopes now, but concrete plans. Steps toward Seattle. Toward Elliot. Toward the future I want rather than the one thrust upon me by circumstance and fear.

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