Page 32 of Much Ado About Hockey

“You said your piece. You gave me my ultimatum – so here I am.”

“Well, congratulations to me…” he said, the sarcasm falling out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Her mouth parted in disbelief, her eyes wide.

“Didn’t you want me here? You married me, picked out a place, and told me to be here by Friday – and I’m here, but you are acting like… like…”

“Like what?” he pushed, his voice low, hurt threading every word even though he tried to sound indifferent. He didn’t want to be fighting on a darn airplane, but she had abandoned him and left him with nothing but silence and doubt and a black hole of wondering if he was worth sticking around for. And now she sat opposite of him, clear across the cabin, like nothing had happened. No apology. No explanation. Just here, with her bags, her stiff posture, and her unreadable face.

“Go ahead and say your piece, Karen.”

And then—she froze.

Jett watched her jaw tighten. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and her lips pressed so firmly together that they blanched at the edges. He knew that look. Knew she was holding back, biting down hard on something that might break them both open. He braced for the storm, waited for the explosion.

But it never came.

“Nothing,” she said, voice flat but not cruel. “You told me what this would entail, and I’m jumping into this with both feet. I’m here, Jett. You win.”

The air shifted.

He blinked, caught off guard by the surrender in her tone, by the lack of venom. This wasn’t what he expected—not from her. He’d braced for yelling, for fire. For a fight that would leave them both bruised but maybe a little clearer. Instead, she met him with something that looked suspiciously like peace.

She looked away again, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she added, “I’ve never flown before, so I’d like to enjoy this…”

Jett felt his whole body go still.

She’d never flown before?She was up here, a mile above the world, nerves probably rattling beneath that calm exterior, and he’d been too caught up in his own emotions to notice. To care.

His mouth opened, then closed again. He didn’t have the words. Not for that. Not for the quiet vulnerability in her voice or the fact that she wasn’t trying to win this round. She wasn’t even playing. She was taking him up on a life together, but refusing to add any chemistry to the mix by arguing with him, by putting her own feelings into the mix. That wasn’t what he wanted… was it?

He picked up his iPad again, trying to busy himself, but the guilt gnawed at him. If he’d known… he would’ve done something. Brought her up to the cockpit. Made it special. Marked the moment. Anything but this awkward silence wrapped in barbed wire.

It hit him hard, all at once—that maybe theybothhad things they weren’t saying. Maybe neither of them knew how to do this right. But she’d shown up. She gave up everything to be a part of this crazy marriage but wasn’t going to participate in discussions with him. How did that work?

And why did he feel so much worse now?

That evening, when they landed, Jett had a car waiting - and once again wished that he’d know she was actually going to come with him. He could have had a limo and roses waiting for her, but after all the silence,he assumed it was going to be just him. He spent the last few days bracing himself for rejection instead of planning to make this something memorable for the two of them to experience together.

Guilt and anxiety were consuming him, making his stomach hurt… and he wasn’t one to handle his feelings well. Usually, if something was bothering him, he took it out on the weights at the gym or on the ice. He wasn’t due to show up for practice until Monday, but maybe he’d go by the arena tomorrow anyhow if this continued.

Karen was still quiet and remained that way the entire car ride. He was pleased to see the high-rise condo was a nice building, landscaped beautifully on the outside, and even more pleased to see the moving truck was ready to pull out of the circle entrance. He might not like making plans, but he was pretty good at orchestrating things when he put his mind to it.

“I need to sign the moving slips and do a quick walkthrough, checking to see if they left any boxes unpacked,” he murmured to her, getting out of the car and rushing to her side to open her door. If it was a big enough thing to argue about, then he was going to remove that obstacle from their relationship with zero-hesitation. He saw her lips part as she emerged from the car, looking surprised. It hurt that she was so shocked that he’d applied himself - and it galled him at how fascinated he was with her freakin’ lips.

It was a thing of beauty in his mind and stole anything else he might have said. Instead, he grasped her hand, paid the driver, and made their way toward the movers that were waiting in the distance. It felt so good to hold her hand, to feel like they were a couple, just doing some normal ‘coupley-stuff’… even if things were strained between them.

Walking into the building, he spotted the realtor waiting and accepted the keys without hesitation… wincing as the manwalked along with them. Then the guy joined them in the elevator along with the four men who’d unpacked their boxes. It was weird, awfully crowded, and uncomfortable. The silence of the elevator with the faint music playing lightly in the background seemed to dominate every corner.

“As you see, Mr. and Mrs. Acton, we open onto your floor where there are just two units - yours and the other one. You have this entire side of the building, and the freight elevator is down the hallway, for usage with a key. The trash goes in the chute at the end of the hallway and…” the realtor’s voice droned on.

Jett glanced at Karen to see if she understood the man who was speaking French - and hesitated, stunned. She was frowning, concentrating, and focusing on the realtor… taking it all in.

“You speak French?” he asked, unable to hide the shocked tone to his voice.

“You’re just now asking me that?” Karen retorted in a hushed voice, looking at him. “We’re going to live here, so whether I could speak or comprehend French should have been a thing discussed between us. When were you going to tell me you were fluent?”

“You never asked.”

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