Page 73 of The Love Comeback
Nate’s expression softens. “I can see that.”
Before I can respond, the arena erupts as the announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, introducing the Glaciers. The lights dim completely, replaced by swirling blue and silver spotlights as the team skates onto the ice one by one.
“And in the goal … give it up for number one … KAAAADE SANTOOOOS!”
The crowd roars as Kade skates out, his movements powerful and graceful. Even with his helmet on, there’s something commanding about his presence, a confidence that radiates from him.
“GO KADE!” Colton screams, jumping up and down, his excitement contagious.
I find myself on my feet, too, clapping and cheering along with everyone else. My eyes are locked on Kade as he takes his position in goal, the breadth of his shoulders in the padded uniform, the intensity of his focus even from this distance.
“He’s having a great season,” Nate comments beside me as the national anthem begins. “One of his best.”
“Really?” I ask, genuinely curious. I’ve been so wrapped up in our personal dynamics that I haven’t paid much attention to his professional stats.
“Yeah.” Nate nods. “Coach thinks he might be looking at another All-Star selection this year.”
Pride swells in my chest, unexpected but genuine. Whatever happened between us personally, I’ve always known how talented he is, how hard he works. Watching him now, at the peak of his career, is a reminder of why he was so determined all those years ago.
As the game begins, I find myself completely engrossed. The players move like lightning across the ice, their bodies colliding with bone-jarring force.
And Kade—Kade is mesmerizing. His reflexes are incredible, his body seeming to know where the puck is going before it even gets there. During one particularly intense sequence, he makes three consecutive saves that have the entire arena on its feet, chanting his name.
Colton is beside himself with excitement, tugging on my arm. “Did you see that, Mom? Did you see what he did?!”
“I saw.” I laugh, caught up in his enthusiasm. “That was amazing.”
The first period ends with the Glaciers up by one goal, thanks largely to Kade’s impenetrable defense. As the teams skate off for the intermission, I catch myself staring at Kade.
Nate gives me a knowing look so similar to the one Valerie gave me in the car that I have to wonder if my feelings for Kade are completely transparent to everyone around me.
The second period starts with renewed intensity. The opposing team, desperate to even the score, comes out aggressively. The play is faster, harder, and the hits more punishing. I find myself wincing at some of the collisions, even though I know these men are professionals who are used to the contact.
Kade continues to be a wall in the goal, making save after impossible save. The crowd responds to his performance with increasing fervor, the energy in the arena building with every blocked shot.
And then it happens.
Midway through the second period, an opposing player breaks free on a breakaway, charging toward the Glaciers’ goal at full speed. Kade positions himself, ready for the shot. But instead of shooting, the player loses his edge and careens out of control.
The world seems to slow down as I watch the player crash into Kade at full speed, his momentum carrying them both into the goal. The sickening sound of impact reverberates through the suddenly silent arena. The net dislodges from its moorings and Kade’s body crumples awkwardly beneath the other player.
He doesn’t get up.
My body goes rigid, a cry caught in my throat as I watch the scene unfold. The referee’s whistle blasts.Kade remains motionless on the ice, and it feels like the air has been sucked from my lungs.
“Kade!” Colton’s voice breaks through my frozen panic, his small hand gripping my arm so tightly it hurts. “Mom, why isn’t he getting up?”
I can’t answer. I can’t even breathe. My entire body feels like it’s been encased in ice as I stare at Kade’s still form.
“He’s down,” Nate’s voice stresses, and his tone confirms my fears as Kade remains on the ice, unmoving.
“We need medical!” someone shouts from the circle now surrounding him.
I spot Cameron ripping his mask from his face and dropping down beside Kade. Even from this distance, I see the concern all over his face. And it’s enough to put me into motion, nearly tripping over my own feet as I make my way to the exit. “Stay here,” I say to Colton, who’s losing color in his face.
Valerie nods and waves me onward. However, as I take another step, a firm grip lands on my wrist.
“You’re going to have to wait,” Nate urges, stopping me. “We can’t get on the ice. They’re not going to let us. Wehaveto wait.” His words sound distant as the medical team surrounds Kade, removing his mask and showing his peaceful—and terrifyingly still—face.
