Page 70 of The Love Comeback
“From my perspective, Kade seems like a man who made a mistake when he was young and is doing everything in his power to make up for it now.”
“I … I just don’t want Colton to get hurt.”
“And you think keeping Kade at arm’s length is protecting Colton?” Valerie questions. “From what I’ve seen, that boy adores Kade. And Kade adores him right back.”
“For now,” I counter. “But what happens when Kade decides hockey is more important again? Or when he just gets tired of playing dad to someone else’s kid?”
Valerie studies me for a long moment. “You know, fear is a funny thing. It can keep us safe, but it can also keep us stuck.” She reaches out to cover my hand with hers. “I think your fear is holding both you and Colton back from the family you could have.”
“Family?” I echo, the word catching in my throat.
“Yes, family.” Valerie leans forward, her eyes earnest. “Those boys are so much happier together. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re happier, too.”
I can’t deny it. The moments when the three of us are together—at the rink, getting pizza after practice, even just sitting in the car—those are the moments when everything feels right. I stare down at my coffee cup, watching the steam curl into the air. “I don’t know how to let him in without risking everything.”
“Oh, Ella.” Valerie sighs. “That’s the thing about love. It always involves risk. There are no guarantees. But from what I’ve seen, Kade Santos is a pretty sure bet. I mean, he’s been showing you and Colton exactly who he is through his actions. The question is, are you paying attention?”
I think about the last couple weeks—how Kade has kept his distance from me while still being there for Colton, how his face lights up whenever Colton succeeds on the ice. How the manhas spent countless hours teaching my boy how to skate, to play, to believe in himself.
“But what if it doesn’t work out?” I whisper, voicing my deepest fear. “What if he leaves again?”
“What if he doesn’t?” Valerie counters, squeezing my arm. “What if this is your second chance at happiness? Are you really willing to let fear rob you of that?”
I don’t have an answer. Valerie doesn’t push for one. She just sits with me, her presence comforting as I mull over her words.
The bell rings, startling us both. In less than a minute, my classroom will be filled with thirty energetic twelve-year-olds.
“Think about it,” she says, standing up and smoothing her dress. “That’s all I’m asking. Just think about what you really want, not what you’re afraid of. And know that it’s okay to change your mind. Just don’t wait too long, or you might lose him altogether.”
Her words hit something deep inside me. The thought of losing Kade again, this time because of my own fear rather than his choices, makes my chest ache in a way I can’t ignore.
She gives me one last meaningful look before heading to the door. “And for what it’s worth,” she adds, pausing in the doorway, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. That man is still very much in love with you, Ella.”
The house is quiet except for the soft hum of the dishwasher. I curl up in the corner of the living room couch, wrapping myself in the throw blanket Colton and I picked out together last winter. He’s been asleep for over an hour now. I should be grading more papers and prepping for tomorrow’s lessons, but Valerie’s words from this afternoon keep circling in my head like a song I can’t shake.
“What if this is your second chance at happiness?”
The question feels both terrifying and exhilarating, like standing at the edge of a high dive, trying to decide whether to jump.
I close my eyes, and suddenly the memory of our breakup all those years ago unfolds like a movie in my mind. The words exchanged, the hurt, the tears.
But the scene is playing differently than it has for the past decade.
I’ve always remembered it as a betrayal—Kade choosing hockey over me, breaking my heart because his NHL career mattered more than our relationship. But now, remembering the confusion on his face, the way his words tumbled out incoherently … I wonder if there was more to it.
“I just want to be able to give you the world, and I don’t know … Maybe long distance isn’t going to be the way that works.”
Those were his exact words. At eighteen, all Iheard was rejection. But now, at twenty-seven, I hear the fear behind them. The insecurity. The pressure he must have been under.
I was so hurt, so blindsided, that I ran. I didn’t stay to hear his explanation or try to understand. I cut him off completely—deleted his number, blocked him on social media, ignored his attempts to reach out. It was easier to hate him than to face the pain of losing him.
But we were just kids. Kids with big dreams and no real understanding of what it meant to navigate adult relationships through major life transitions. Kids who made mistakes.
I open my eyes with a newfound understanding. A newfound hope.
And that’s when Kade’s question—the night after our kiss—echoes in my mind:
“I still have feelings for you, El … is it really too late for us?”
