Page 106 of Face Off
By the weekend, Jacko has summoned the team for what he callsOperation: Sugar-Fueled Team Reconciliation, a fancy name for an end-of-season BBQ in his backyard. The place smells of grill smoke, and Jacko’s cookies cooling on the patio. Hockey gear is scattered everywhere, and Lila is running circles like she owns the place, which, in a sense, she does.
I’m manning the grill, flipping burgers and trying not to overcook anything while Chloe balances a plate for us both.
Jacko drifts over, flour still dusting his hair, a tray of focaccia in hand. “You need this,” he says, shoving the tray at me. “For morale, emotional support, and obvious carb intake.”
I snort. “I’m pretty sure morale is safe without focaccia.”
“Details, Ollie,” he says. “Eat first, cry later.”
Chloe laughs at our banter, resting her hand on my back. She’s settled here, in our home and in my life. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing her like this, confident, warm, and still so stubborn about doing everything her way.
The team arrives in waves. Murphy’s laughing, still sprinkling in the usual sarcasm but without the old edge. Sophie is rolling her eyes at him but smiling, Finn is trying to keep up with Lila, and Dylan and Mia are already in a full-on debate about something only they understand. Jacko shouts aboutbaked goods every so often, ignored by everyone, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lila tugs on my sleeve. “We need to teach Finn to play like you!”
Finn stammers and shakes his head. “No… can’t,”
Lila crosses her arms, frowning like a tiny general. “Yes, you can! You just have to be scary and loud and slide on the ice like a monster!”
I crouch to her level. “Alright, captain. Show me the master plan.”
She grins and proceeds to teach Finn the fine art of hockey intimidation in ways only a four-year-old could invent. He mimics her awkwardly, stomping and waving his arms, while I can’t stop laughing. Chloe nudges me, smiling at the chaos. “You’re officially still a part of the family,” she whispers.
I squeeze her hand, grateful. “Yeah. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
She rests her head on my shoulder, watching the team scatter in various states of chaos, laughter, and banter. Murphy teasing Finn, Dylan and Mia bickering, Jacko guarding his cookies like a dragon, and Lila running the show. “It really does,” she says.
As the sun dips low, the backyard empties out a bit. Jacko insists on one last tray of carrot cake because, as he says, “No good deed should go un-iced.”
Chloe and I stand side by side, watching Lila chase Finn around for one final round of lessons on being a hockey player’s kid. The night is warm, the laughter lingering in the air. I breathe it in, grateful for the calm after the storm, for a team that’s finally healed, and for Chloe.
She leans into me. “You think this is the last off-ice drama for the season?”
I shake my head, smiling down at her. “Not a chance. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
She rests her head on my chest, and I pull her closer. My hand drifts to her back, the warmth of her body grounding me in a way I never thought possible. We’ve fought through injury, gossip, tension, and uncertainty. The Raptors’ season is over, but we’re just getting started.
Jacko, never missing a chance for theatrics, pops up beside us with one last tray. “Dessert is non-negotiable!”
I grin, taking a slice. Chloe does the same.
“Team approved?” I ask, looking at her.
“Fully,” she says, biting into hers.
I glance around the yard one last time. Our friends, our team, our family; chaotic, complex, imperfect, and exactly how it should be. My hips ache a little, but nothing can shake me from the ice, from life, or from Chloe.
The article has been published. Chloe’s career is moving forward on her own terms. My contract is secure. And for once, everything feels steady.
Chloe squeezes my hand, and I know we’re standing in the middle of our little world, safe and grounded. Lila is still bossing Finn around like a general, Jacko is grumbling about cookie consumption, Murphy is joking around without a sting, Sophie’s sarcastic commentary slices through the air, and the rest of the team are laughing, teasing, and living.
I smile, looking down at Chloe. “You ready for the next season?”
She smirks, resting her head on my shoulder. “Always. But right now? Let’s just enjoy this one.”
And at long last, I don’t feel like I have to prove anything. Not on the ice, not to anyone. I just have this, the team, Chloe, our home, our chaos, and a future that feels like it’s ours.
Jacko’s voice carries from the patio. “Who’s stealing the last piece?!”
Chloe laughs, I laugh, and I think maybe this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.
