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She nodded. “He read it but hasn’t responded.”

“He just finished a game,” Benji reminded her. “It might take him a few minutes.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me,” Annie said. “Maybe he just wants to move on.”

Benji shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the case. Just give him time.”

Benji didn’t stick around long after that, but he promised to check in on her later.

Once on her own, she took the time to clean up the remnants of their dinner, then turned the security on for the cabin.

She settled down at the worktable and stared at the cut projects she had waiting to be assembled, trying to find the desire to plunge into some work.

Finally, she picked up a small stack of fabric pieces that would make a little dress when they were all put together. This would be part of her Valentine’s store.

She’d never dreaded the holiday before. But that year, she had a feeling it was just going to be a reminder of what she’d lost if she and Cole couldn’t manage to work things out.

And the longer her phone stayed silent, the further her hopes fell.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Cole steeled himself for the conversation that was to come as he walked from the media room back to the locker room. He hadn’t wanted to face the press that day, but Coach had sent him out.

The man had probably hoped that having to face the intense media focus would pressure him into getting his act together.

Cole was actually surprised that Coach had put him in the game. He’d been threatening to bench him for the past two days. Of course, after this game, he might very well be benched.

When he arrived in the locker room, most of the team was still there.

Marcus caught his eye from across the room, giving a subtle nod that meant he wanted to talk after. Cole acknowledged him with a slight tilt of his head as he made his way to his locker.

The space around him felt charged, teammates giving him a wider berth than usual, conversation dropping to murmurs as he passed.

He couldn’t blame them. His performance was affecting everyone.

“Halverson,” Coach called, gesturing him toward the small office next to the locker room.

Cole followed, aware of the eyes tracking his movement. Inside the office, Coach closed the door and leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

“I’m benching you for the next game.”

Though he’d been expecting it, the words still landed like a physical blow. He’d never been benched in his career. “Coach, I—”

“This isn’t a discussion.” Coach’s tone was firm but not unkind. “Whatever’s going on with you, you need to sort it out. I can’t have you on the court like this.”

Cole nodded, swallowing his protest. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Coach studied him. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re letting something off-court destroy everything you’ve worked for. I’ve never seen you play this distracted. I’ve asked you a few times now to sort your stuff out, but it doesn’t seem like you’re doing that.”

Cole remained silent, unsure what to say that wouldn’t reveal too much.

Coach sighed. “Look, I don’t need to know the details. But figure it out. Take the next couple of days. Clear your head. I need the old Cole Halverson back.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Cole turned to leave, Coach added, “And Cole? Sometimes the hardest choices aren’t really choices at all.”

The cryptic statement followed Cole back to his locker.

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