Page 36 of Much Ado About Hockey

Yeah, but I got this… are you gonna watch the game?

Yes

She typed those three letters immediately, refusing to tell him ‘No’ again. If they were going to have a relationship, it was time to start opening up and trusting that he wasn’t picking on her, wasn’t trying to bait her, but rather flirting in his own weird way.

Really?

Yes – I think it’s about time I learn something about hockey.

I think I’m gonna faint…

Har har har.

Well, maybe you could do the whole touristy thing with me, and we could get coffee together when I get back… if you want to?

I would love that.

Wow – Nutella, we have a date.

Look at us go!

She was smiling, looking down at her phone, and chuckling at their weird yet strange conversation. It seemed so much easier to text him, knowing she could hide behind the screen and not have to worry about his gorgeous smiles, those flirty winks, or the itch to rub his shoulders when he starts shrugging sometimes.

Wanna know a secret?

I’d love to know one.

I miss you – and wish you were here.

Karen felt her heart flutter wildly, unsure how to respond without sounding too mushy, too easy, because they still had a long way to go in their relationship.

Maybe next time?

Absolutely. I’ve gotta go, Nutella. They are loading up the plane, and I don’t know how long I’ll have reception. Can I text you when we land?

I’ll be waiting.

Can we do that weird X’s and O’s boyfriendy/girlfriendy-thing…

Yanno, even if we’re married?

I’d ‘X’ you.

Heck, I’d ‘O’ you anytime…

Hello?

Well, we’ve only really ‘Oh’d’ in this relationship. You’ve hugged me once – and kissed me about the same amount of times.

Maybe we can fix that on our coffee date?

XOXO

Maybe we can… XOXO

Smiling, Karen sighed in relief, the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time in days—maybe even weeks. The weight she’d been carrying, invisible but ever-present, began to lift. Maybe… just maybe, it wasn’t too late for them. For the two of them to find their way back to something real, something better. Her heart ached with the quiet hope blooming inside her chest, and the ache told her just how badly she wanted this—how much she’d always wanted it, even when she pretended she didn’t care.

She realized then, in the quiet stillness of the moment, how deeply she longed for him to look at her in a way he hadn’t in a long time—not just with familiarity, but with admiration. With love. With pride. And maybe if she wanted that, really wanted to matter in his world, she had to stop waiting for him to see her differently and start becoming someone worth truly seeing. Not because she wasn’t already enough—but because she had buried pieces of herself so deep under layers of bitterness and self-doubt that evenshehad stopped looking.

---