Page 53 of Second Chance Faceoff

I glanced over. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“You’re the one who’s been muttering to Bella about canned food storage.”

I almost laughed.

Tessa finally looked up from the files. “You miss him.”

I stared at the frame again, the next photo already cycling in. “He’s leaving. There’s nothing to miss.”

“You are hoping that if you keep saying it, it will make it true.”

I didn’t respond.

Tessa set the paperwork down.

Tessa didn’t say anything at first. Just watched me. Then, finally—“You keep pretending this doesn’t bother you.”

I didn’t look at her. “I’m fine.”

She let out a soft snort. “Yeah, and I’m an Olympic pole vaulter.”

I put my pen down. It hit the desk with a sharpclack, rolling once before stopping dead against the clipboard. “He’s leaving. What am I supposed to do? Throw a going-away party?”

Tessa shrugged. “I don’t know. But maybe stop acting like it doesn’t matter.” She nodded toward the frame. “I suppose I just imagined how you went stiff when it popped up."

My arms crossed before I even realized I was doing it. The cold pressed in, or maybe it was just me. “It was just… unexpected.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. “He’s complicated.”

“So are you.”

“I just…” I shook my head. “He’s got this life. Hockey, travel, media stuff. I’ve got Timberline. Bills. Volunteer schedules. The dogs. It’s not the same.”

Tessa didn’t move. “No, it’s not. But since when did ‘not the same’ mean ‘not worth it’?”

She tilted her head slightly, as if she were deciding how hard to push. Then—“For someone who knows how to keep everything running, you really stink at knowing what you want.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious.” She leaned in just a fraction, voice steady. “You plan every fundraiser, every intake rotation, every supply run down to the ounce. But when something good shows up—something messy, something complicated, something that doesn’t fit neatly into your version of the world, you bail.”

My fingers curled against my sleeves, the fabric pulled tight.

I pushed up from the desk too fast, grabbing the nearest stack of papers just to do something with my hands. “It wouldn’t have worked.”

Tessa stayed where she was, arms still folded. “Or maybe you didn’t let it.”

I stared at the photo again.

She exhaled sharply. "You keep believing you’re the girl people admire but never want. But Colton didn’t just notice you—he wants you."

Tessa sighed, pushing off the desk, her voice softer now. “You didn’t get passed over this time, Riles. Not even close. So if youwalk away, at least be honest—it’s not because you didn’t care. It’s because you were too scared to try.”

She walked out before I could come up with a response that wasn’t an excuse.

***

Midnight. The house was quiet. I flipped the pillow. Stared at the ceiling. Counted a faucet drip I hadn’t noticed until now. I kicked off the blanket, rolled to my side, and rolled back. Finally, I gave up and grabbed my phone.

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