Jake Abbot Being a goalie is never easy, but it’s worse when you are the reason your team is losing. Ever since we lost the championship last season, I’ve lost it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I’m bringing the entire team down with me. And so far this season, I haven’t been able to pull my head out of this rut. The more we lose, the more the depression drags me under. “god yeah, Win,” my best friend and teammate cheered at the TV. Wyatt and I play for the Timberwolves, a team in the National Hockey League. Wyatt is centred on the starting line, and I’m the starting goalie, not that I could stop anything. The entire team was at the team manager's mansion to watch his daughter and Wyatt’s younger sister play for Gold with the women’s national team. If they win, this will be her third gold medal. The name Hart on the back of a jersey flashed by as she took a shot. I laughed when it bounced off the goalie's helmet, knowing all too well that she was seeing stars for a moment. “That’s my girl,” William, our team manager, shouted. “I think she’s better than you, Wyatt,” our head coach and Wyatt’s older brother, Warren, chuckled. I snickered beside Wyatt, and he backhanded my chest in warning. I took a swig of my beer as I focused on the game. It was now or never, Winter, I silently cheered her on. The game was tied in the third period, and the clock was running down. If she was going to make a move, she had better do it quickly. The whistle blew, calling off sides. I could see Winter was getting frustrated as she skated to the face-off. She was over her shift time, but I knew, being the captain, that she was determined to win her team another gold medal. “Keep calm, little one,” William muttered as we watched, holding our breath. She was playing our country’s rivals, and she didn’t want to lose. Winning the face-off in the other team's zone, she passed it to her right-winger, who was instantly covered by the defence of the other team. She whipped it to the boards, and Winter picked it up again. Dodging players from the other team, she took a shot. There were two minutes left. The room was now standing as we waited to see if the puck hit the back of the net. It happened so fast, the siren blared with the goal, but it was Winter whom I couldn’t take my eyes off. The rival captain cross-c*********r from behind, sending her down and sliding into the boards. “What the fk?” William yelled, throwing his hands in the air. The ref blew the whistle, not that it mattered. Winter wasn’t moving. My heart stopped beating as we waited for the announcers to announce something. “Number twenty-five, Hart has taken a nasty hit. We are waiting for news of her injury.” The arena booed as the ref threw the player off the ice. The room here booed the TV. I would have as well, but I couldn’t breathe. “Get up,” Wyatt yelled beside me. Get up, I repeated in my head over and over again. Her coach and medic were rushing onto the ice, as her right-winger knelt beside her. We should be there. If our season weren’t in full swing, we would have been, but that did nothing to ease the guilt that churned my stomach as I watched someone I grew up with not moving on the ice. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as we watched, unable to do a Dam thing. Then she moved, and I took in much-needed air. When she slowly sat up and rested on her elbow, my breathing became harsh, but I was breathing. “Hart is getting up. We still don’t know the extent of her injuries,” the announcer said. “That was a dirty hit, and it will be noted that number fifty-three will be suspended from playing in this league indefinitely. We only play here every four years, and she isn’t a rookie. She was the captain. Oh, Hart is getting up now, and she’s standing.” There was blood running down one of her cheeks. “She is stronger than she looks, that’s for sure. I know men who play in the national league who wouldn’t be getting back up after a hit like that,” the other announcer said. “That’s it, little one, take it easy,” William said as we watched her skate off the ice to the bench. She took off her helmet, and there was a cut under her eye from her visor. “Less than two minutes left in the gold medal game, folks. We have just been informed that Hart will not be returning to the ice, but she is okay. With the ice now clear and the score three to two, let’s get this game finished.” William pulled out his phone and made a call. He went into the other room and started yelling at the person at the other end. “f'k-, that was close,” Wyatt breathed out. “We still don’t know the details,” I sighed. We all gasped when Winter jumped the boards and entered the game again. The other team had pulled their goalie with thirty seconds left. “Dad, get in here,” Wyatt shouted, and his father rushed back into the room. “What the hll is she doing?” Her father yelled at the TV. “It seems Hart wants another piece as she has entered the game with only thirty seconds left,” the announcer exclaimed. “What a pass from right-winger James to Hart. Hart is on a breakaway, and she is untouchable. She winds up the shot and GOAL!” We all cheered as the siren sounded the goal before the buzzer blew, signalling the end of the game. Winter’s and her team’s gloves and helmets covered the ice as they celebrated their four-to-two win. She looked better with a smile on her face. Her cheek now had a bandage, but she was still beautiful with her face flushed and covered in sweat. “Why the fk would you let her back on the ice?” Will screamed into his phone. He hung up and flopped back in his chair. He looked like he had aged ten years. “She’ll be okay, Will. She’s stronger than most boys in the league.” My father, his best friend, and ex-teammate reassured him. “She has a concussion; she shouldn’t be on the fking ice,” he growled. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen. She gathered with her team on the ice as they handled the gold medals. She was all smiles. If she was in pain, she didn’t show it. “She’s celebrating, so that’s a good sign, Dad. The medical team wouldn’t let her back on the ice if they thought she couldn’t handle it,” Wyatt told his father. I looked at him. Does he not know his sister at all? Even Warren scoffed. “Clearly, you don’t know our sister.” The camera went to an announcer on the ice, and Winter was waiting to be interviewed. The joys of being captain. Her long auburn hair was pulled back in a braid, and her deep green eyes were sparkling. “Winter Hart, Captain of the Gold-winning team. How are you feeling after that nasty hit?” he asked her. I rolled my eyes. Obviously, it hurt, аs hole. “I’m feeling good.” She panted. I could see the deep bruise on her cheek, even with the bandage in place. “You must be proud of your team for this historic win. This is your third gold medal.” “I’m so proud of them. This was a tough game, and they pulled through like I knew they would.” She smiled. It was then that her team came up behind her with the water and dumped it all over her. She was soaked and laughing as she ignored the announcer and embraced her team. “Winter Hart, everyone. One of the best female hockey players I have ever seen. Which isn’t a surprise since her father played for the Timberwolves in his prime. Now his oldest son, Warren Hart, is the head coach after an injury that ended his hockey career. Her other brother, Wyatt Hart, plays centre for the same team. She comes from hockey and, with three gold medals, I think it’s time for a women’s league.” “And if you didn’t know it, folks, she is officially off the market. Engaged to sport lawyer, Tristan Cole,” the head announcer said. “f'k-, I hate that guy,” Wyatt grumbled. I felt the same way. “Watch it,” his father warned. “He’s good for her.” “But could you imagine if she got with another hockey player? Their kids would be unstoppable.” The other one countered. I can agree with that one.

Winter Hart My head was pounding as the medic, Troy, was stitching up my cheek. My visor dug in deep when I broke my fall with my head against the boards. But we won, so the hit was worth it. “How are you feeling, Miss Hart?” Troy asked as he placed a bandage over the now-stitched skin. “My head is pounding, and I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled. I was lying back on the bed in the medical centre at the arena. I had a forearm over my eyes to block out the bright lights. I’ve had a concussion before, but this felt worse. “It’s the concussion. It will get worse before getting better. I wouldn’t fly for a few days to give it some time to heal before getting on a plane.” I uncovered one eye and grumbled. “So, I have to stay here?” He nodded. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s for your safety. Now, let me help you with your gear so I can evaluate the damage done to your body.” He helped me sit up, and I swung my legs over the edge of the table. I felt dizzy, and the urge to empty my stomach was strong as he helped me out of my jersey. He grumbled when he removed my chest armour. I knew I was covered in bruises. That hit wasn’t the only one I received in the entire game. “Dam, this sport is nasty sometimes,” he said as he helped me lie back down. “Yeah,” I breathed out, covering my eyes again as he checked my ribs and abdomen. “How’s my star player?” The team manager walked in. I was lying back, wearing a sports bra, and still had my hockey pants and shin guards on. I didn’t have time to change after the medal ceremony. “She has a concussion and a cut under her left eye. She won’t be able to fly for a few days.” Troy informed him. “Good. At least now your father will stop calling me after I give him some news.” I smiled, knowing how protective my father can be. I’m sure he would have started a fight if he had been there. “So, no after-party?” “Sir, she isn’t allowed to drink for at least two weeks. Also, she needs to rest. I’ll check on her throughout the night to ensure she wakes up.” Troy told him. “But she can still do a few interviews?” I uncovered an eye in time to see Troy roll his eyes at my coach. “No. Miss Hart needs rest. Get another player to handle the interviews. She shouldn’t have stayed on the bench after that hit.” Troy was firm. “Troy, I don’t think you understand. She got two goals and two assists. This is her third gold medal in a row. She needs to be out there.” He protested. “And who will tell her father if something happens to her? She can’t stand the lights here, so she will not be doing any interviews. Issue a statement about her condition and ask another player.” Troy retorted. “Good job, girl,” the head coach squeezed my shoulder before leaving. Troy was very serious about his job. Being employed by my father wasn’t easy, and he was extremely protective of me. “Thank you,” I grumbled. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight. I love playing hockey, but not so much interviews. I love my fans and will sign anything, but I hate answering questions about myself. “I mean it, Miss Hart. You need to rest.” I hissed when he pushed down on my left side. “I think you bruised your ribs. I'll never know how your body can take a beating like this.” He sighed. I’ve had bruised ribs many times before, and there was nothing to do but rest. I winced when my best friend and right-winger, Sydney James, entered the room. The door hit the wall, causing my head to pound. “Hey, babe, how are you feeling?” Her voice was loud. “Shush, her concussion is pretty bad,” Troy warned her. “I’m sorry, babe,” she whispered. Leaning down, she kissed my forehead. “I brought your tracksuit so you can change, and we can take you back to the hotel to rest." “Good. Miss Hart, I’ll be staying with you. I need to make sure you wake up every few hours.” Troy said. “And I’ll help her in the shower.” Sydney volunteered. “A bath,” I muttered. My body hurts. “Also, your dad has been blowing up your phone.” “Answer it next time. Explain, I’m fine and resting.” I told her. I don’t want to deal with anyone right now. Troy helped me sit up again and assisted me in taking off my hockey gear. I was ready to throw up when I was in my team's tracksuit. My head spun, and everything hurt. “Easy there, Miss Hart. Lean on me.” Troy said as I stumbled. “There’s a car waiting out back to take us to the hotel,” Sydney said as they led me out of the medical clinic and to the back exit of the arena. I don’t remember getting in the car or driving to the hotel. Everything was a blur as I kept my eyes shut tight and tried not to focus on the car's movement. By the time I was in my room, I couldn’t move my limbs. This was worse than any other time before. “I know you want to sleep, but you need to shower. You stink,” Sydney sniffed me. “She’s over-smelling. It’s not that bad,” Troy defended, and I chuckled before wincing. “I think you should nap first, and when I wake you, you can shower,” Troy said as he sat me down on the edge of the bed. I g*****d when a phone rang. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep away the pounding in my head. “Babe, it’s your dad,” she announced before answering the phone. She put it on speaker. “Oh, thank god. Little one, are you okay?” He exclaimed, and I winced at the loudness. “Sir, please keep your voice down.” Troy scolded him. “Hi, Dad,” I mumbled. I didn’t hear anything after that, with my eyes heavy. I lay my head on a pillow before everything went black.

Jake Abbot Relief flooded me when I heard Winter say hi to her father. He had placed the call on speaker when she finally answered. “Sir, Winter is resting. I’m going to stay with her.” Her medic, Troy, said, and I wanted to protest. “How is she, Troy? And I want a straight answer. I don’t pay you to sugarcoat,” William demanded. “She is going to need an MRI. I’ve never seen her this affected by a concussion before. If her condition doesn’t improve by morning, I will take her to the hospital.” My heart sank. “Call me every time you wake her.” He ended the call and blew out a harsh breath. “Dad, she’ll be okay. She’s probably just exhausted.” Wyatt tried to reassure his father. Most of the team had left. It was now just her brothers, father, my father, and me. We were gathered in the kitchen. I pulled out my phone and sent Winter a text. Me: Feel better! I set my phone down on the table before Winter’s Maine coon jumped out of nowhere onto my l*p, crushing my his not-so-little friend. The cat was the size of a medium dog and weighed a good thirty pounds. “f'k-,” I grunted. And Snowy the cat rubbed her head against my chin. She looked like a small snow leopard. “How’s the cave?” Wyatt teased. “f'k- off,” I retorted. “Daddy!” Warren’s four-year-old daughter ran into the kitchen. He scooped her up into his arms. “Daddy, Auntie Winnie got hurt,” she cried. Just then, his very pregnant wife, Tayler, walked in. “Hey, babe,” he greeted her with a k**s. “Auntie Winnie is okay. Just a little cut.” He reassured his daughter. “Looking good, Tay, not much longer now,” Wyatt winked at her. “Three weeks and it feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen my toes.” She g*****d. Warren wrapped her in his arms, and it was sickly sweet. “I’m getting a baby sister,” she announced. “You don’t know that,” her mother corrected her. “I know it’s a girl. Right, Grandpa,” she huffed. Warren put her down, and she rushed over to William. “Whatever you say, Princess,” he picked her up and placed her in his l*p. “Huh, Snowy doesn’t like boys.” She was looking at me as I mindlessly petted the massive cat in my l*p. She was purring like an engine. I looked at Wyatt, who just shrugged. “Come on, Princess, I have a surprise for you.” William stood up from the table with her wrapped in his arms. She let out a squeal of excitement. “Dad, we talked about this,” Warren called out to him. “Just let the grumpy old man spoil his granddaughter.” My father chimed in. I rolled my eyes. He was pressuring my older brother and me for grandchildren. Too bad I didn’t do relationships. My phone chimed on the table, and I flipped to see a message from Winter. W: Thank you, Jake. It's Syd. At least someone cares. Mr. Piece of shift fiancé hasn’t called or texted her. Probably didn’t even watch the game. fking аs hole. Anyway, I’ll keep you updated. She’s passed out like a starfish, drooling. LOL. Before replying, I slid the phone over to Wyatt so he could read what she wrote. I hated her fiancé, but he loathed the guy. I would say he’s a dog, but that would be insulting the dogs. “fking p***k. Who the hll does he think he is?” Wyatt yelled, which caused Snowy to jump off my l*p. “What’s wrong?” Warren questioned as he and his wife took a seat at the table. “Mr. fking Lawyer hasn’t called Win to see if she’s okay.” He growled. “Something could have happened,” Taylor said, playing devil’s advocate. “Yeah, maybe he died,” I chimed in. “We couldn’t get that lucky,” Wyatt scoffed. “Wyatt, that’s enough. It’s her life,” Warren defended. “So we are just supposed to stand back and let her make the biggest mistake of her life?” He retorted, throwing his hands up. “Do you think I want to see my baby sister get hurt? I don’t, but I can’t dictate who she can see or not see. This is her choice, and we will both be there if it falls apart.” Warren told his brother. “When it falls apart. It’s coming, especially if that fker doesn’t care that she got hurt.” “Come on, Wyatt, I’ll drive you home; we have an early practice,” I said to defuse the situation. Both brothers were very protective of their baby sister. Even more so, after their mother left. “Go, Wyatt. I’ll keep you updated about Win’s condition.” Warren sighed. He was the calm older brother, whereas Wyatt was the hot head. I know he wants what's best for his sister, but she is the one who has to figure that out for herself. Even if we have to see her on the arm of Mr. fking Lawyer. We said goodbye to everyone before heading out to my truck parked in the driveway. With Wyatt being my best friend, we had a dream that if we made it pro, we would buy mansions beside each other so that we could be neighbours. And that’s just what we did after our first year. We didn’t go to college to play; we were drafted after high school over ten years ago. And his father made sure we stayed on the same team. I didn’t know if they were going to keep me after the horrible season I'd been having. We were а-'cup-winning team. In the last ten years, we have won it four times. I climbed into the driver's side, and Wyatt followed suit on the passenger side. My truck roared to life before I pulled out of the driveway. “You okay, man?” I asked him when the silence became too much. I could feel the fury rolling off of him. “I don’t know how to protect her,” he muttered. “Dude, you are the biggest man bimbo I know. Did you not think that they were someone’s sister?” If glares could kill, I would be dead in my seat. “f'k- off, that’s not the same thing. I don't lie to them and promise them shift I’m not ready for. He proposed to her. He’s promising her shift that he can’t deliver, and it’s going to break her. And instead of doing something, I have to sit here and watch, waiting for her world to implode. It’s not right. She's too good a person to be stuck with that аs hole,” he ranted, and I let him. Everything he was saying was true. Winter was too good for any of us. My phone dinged in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a message from her. “It’s from Syd,” I handed the phone to him. His grin didn’t go unnoticed. “She said, Winter was up. She was able to shower and eat something, but is sleeping again. Troy said the symptoms are better, but they are both staying to make sure she is okay.” He said after reading the text to me. “That’s good,” I exhaled, feeling relieved that she was getting better. Hockey can be a nasty sport, and concussions are no joke. I dropped Wyatt off at his house before driving up to my driveway and parking in front of the house, which is too big for one person. Buying this place was the moment I knew I had made it, but now it felt more like a prison than my dream house.

Winter Hart I awoke with a start. Troy was leaning over me, shaking me. “Oh, thank god. How are you feeling?” He breathed out. I yawned before trying to sit up. Troy backed up to give me some space. “I feel foggy but okay,” I replied. I reached for my phone on the nightstand beside me. “Do you need any help?” He asked as I tried to stand up from the bed. “I’m okay. Just need to use the bathroom, and then I’m going to call Tristan.” “You have fifteen minutes before I come barging in there,” he warned, and I believed him. I knew as soon as the door closed, he would be looking at his watch. I walked from the end of the bed towards the bathroom. I was a little dizzy, and I leaned on the bed. My right-winger and best friend was sleeping in the bed beside me. I didn’t notice until I walked past the bed. “Do you need help?” I turned to see Troy watching me from the chair in the corner. “I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.” I made it into the bath and sat down on the toilet. I did my business before slowly getting up and washing my hands. The light hurt my eyes, and I did everything with a squint. I g*****d when I caught sight of my cheek in the mirror. Not only was my cheek black, but I also had a black eye. I knew it was bad, but I didn’t expect it to bruise half my face. After I was done, I sat down on the toilet lid and then looked through my phone. My father must have called me fifty times, but I haven't heard a word from the man I call my fiancé. I quickly looked through the text messages and found nothing from him from the morning before my game. What the hll was going on with him? I looked up his contact before hitting the call button. I knew it was late there, but I didn’t care. I wanted to know why he hadn’t called to check on me. “Hello?” He yelled into the phone. There was loud music playing, and the noise hurt my pounding head. “Tristan?” “Baby, how are you? How was your game? Did you win?” He exclaimed. “You didn’t watch?” “I have to go. Work dinner. I’ll call you tomorrow.” “Tristan, wait?” But the music stopped, and I knew he had hung up. Did he not watch my game? Tears started to build, and my head pounded harder as I fought the urge to vomit. “Win?” Troy knocked gently on the door, and I quickly wiped away the fallen tears. “I’m okay,” I called out. “Can I come in?” He asked. “Yeah,” I answered as loudly as I could. I already felt like shift, but this pain was worse. My heart twisted painfully. “Win, what happened?” Troy stepped inside the bathroom and knelt in front of me. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled. “Let’s get you back in bed. I have some more painkillers for you to take. I’m proud that you made it in here all by yourself,” I snorted a chuckle. It wasn’t something to be proud of. “It’s true. You are the strongest person I know. Even after that hit, you got back on the ice. You should be proud.” He helped me to stand and led me out into the bedroom. “Have you spoken to my father?” I asked him, sitting beside the bed. “I have. I’ve been keeping him updated, don’t worry.” He handed me a couple of capsules. I drank them down with some water before he helped me lie down. He checked my eyes before he sat back in his chair. I emptied my mind before giving in to the exhaustion of my body. There was nothing I could do about Tristan from here. And he will probably never know how much he has truly hurt me. I awoke to the sound of my phone going off. I didn’t want to move to get it. My headache had finally subsided, and I wanted to lie here forever. Troy answered with a hello, and I kept my eyes closed since I didn’t want to speak to anyone. After the call to Tristan, I was barely holding it together. “She’s resting,” I heard Troy say. “I don’t care if you just watched it. She needs her rest, and I’m not waking her. If you want more information, then you will need to speak to her father or wait until she is well enough.” Troy said firmly. “Tristan?” Sydney yawned beside me. “Yeah. She isn’t in any state to deal with him today. Stay up with her, I’m just going to go shower and get changed.” “Of course, how is she doing?” She asked. “Better. I’m still taking her to the hospital for an MRI only because I know she wants to go home. Keep her away from her phone. I know he will keep calling.” I felt the phone hit the bed beside me. I heard the door open and close before Sydney snuggled in beside me. “How much of that did you hear?” She sighed. “All of it,” I whispered. My emotions choked, and she wrapped her arms around me. “It’s okay, Win,” she reassured me as I rested my head on her shoulder. “What the hell's wrong with me?” I cried. My head began to pound again, and I hated that I couldn’t control my emotions. “Babe, there is nothing wrong with you. He can’t see how perfect you are, and that’s his fault. You need to end things with him. His behaviour is getting worse, and you deserve someone who is going to love you.” My phone rang again, and I knew it was him. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. Sydney answered and put it on speaker. “What can I do for you, Tristan?” “Where the fk is Winter?” He growled. I was going to answer, but she clapped her hand over my mouth. “So now you care. She could have died yesterday, and what the hll were you doing? You didn’t even bother to watch her most important game. We won, by the way, not that you care,” Sydney snapped. “You fking’ Beach. Put her on the phone, now,” he demanded. I hated the way he spoke to my best friend. Sydney and I have been friends for over ten years. She was like a sister. “Like I said, she is resting. But if you’d like an update, call her father or brothers.” She hung up, and I let out the breath I was holding in. “Thank you,” I whispered when she removed her hand. “I always have your back, babe. Always. And I’m done watching him suk the life out of you. You deserve the world. Now, let's get ready. Hopefully, we can be on a plane tonight.”

Jake Abbot The team was waiting in one of the conference rooms for our pre-practice meeting. “What the hll could be taking Warren so long?” Wyatt scoffed. He was spinning in his chair beside me. I looked up at the clock to see that he was pushing fifteen minutes past the scheduled time. That was unlike him. He was never late. He’s always here before any of us. “Have you heard anything about Winter?” I asked him, and he stopped spinning. He didn’t answer as he stood up with such force that it hit the wall behind us. He rushed from the room. The look of panic on his face had me following him. Sydney said she would update me, but what if something happened? I ran into the back of Wyatt. He had stopped just before the lobby. “What the?” I g*****d, and he shushed me. It was then that I heard yelling. “She isn’t answering my calls. Why the hll wouldn’t you have informed me she was hurt?” Was that Tristan? “If you watched the game live and called my father, he would have answered all of your questions,” Warren told him. I looked over at Wyatt to see the Mr. Perfect Lawyer himself. “He isn’t answering my calls either,” he scoffed. “He is on a plane to pick up his daughter. And when she is ready to speak to you, she will call.” Warren informed him. “Why the hll weren’t you watching the most important game for my sister?” Wyatt demanded, coming out of the shadows. I could have stopped him, but I also wanted to know the answer. He should have been there with her. “Wyatt, get back in the conference room,” Warren warned his younger brother. “I can’t do that, War, and you know that. This fker thinks he can hurt our baby sister and get away with it. I won’t allow that. Now, answer the question. What the fk was more important than watching her game?” Wyatt exclaimed. “When your father calls, tell him to call me,” Tristan told Warren before storming out of the arena. Wyatt went to go after him, but I stepped forward and stopped him. He may be the team’s first-line centre, but I have a few inches on him and at least twenty pounds. “Get the hll off me, Jake,” he growled. “She will never forgive you if you hurt him. Calm down. Let’s make sure Winter is okay,” I said before looking at Warren. “We are waiting to hear the results of her MRI. Dad left early this morning on the jet to bring her home. He’ll call me when he has news. Now it’s time for practice.” He informed us before walking off towards the conference room. “You should have just let me kick his bottom. He doesn’t deserve my sister,” he spat at me. “I’m not protecting him. You get into a fight with a lawyer, and you could k**s your career goodbye.” I pushed him back with the hand still on his shoulder before heading back to the conference room. I may be the calm one, but I also wanted to punch that fu'ckers face. Winter deserves so much better. We were in the middle of our on-ice practice when Warren’s phone rang loudly. I knew his wife was due to give birth soon, and his phone was glued to his hand before his sister got hurt. I was stretching and getting a feel for the movements. We had a game tonight, which is the reason we couldn’t be there at Winter’s game. I know William had to tell a few people to go to god before flying off to get her. “How is she?” I heard him ask, and I looked at Wyatt, who had stopped mid-play. I followed as he skated to the bench. I may be the same age as Wyatt, but I grew up with his family. I’m not close to my older brother. He played college hockey and went on to be a lawyer, where I was drafted right after high school. He also moved away. He and our father didn’t have a good relationship after our mother passed away from cancer a few years ago. It was hа'rd-on all of us. Wyatt and I leaned against the boards, waiting for Warren to finish with his phone call. He wasn’t rushing out the door, so I assume whoever is calling him is informing him about his sister. “We need a goalie here!” One of the trainers yelled. I turned around and shot him a glare. I was the biggest guy here, and I will be there in a godаm minute. “Okay, yeah, I will make sure the house is ready for her. What were the results of the MRI?” Warren asked the caller. He looked at us and held up a finger, telling us to wait. “Okay. Yeah, Taylor is still holding on. She isn’t going to give birth until Winter is here. See you tomorrow and tell Win that was a god of a game,” he ended the call. He sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Winter is flying home with Dad and Sydney. Her symptoms have calmed down, but the MRI is showing a slow brain bleed. It’s slow enough that the doctor who reviewed it believes it will stop on its own, but she will follow up after they land.” Warren explained, and my heart sank. “What the hll does that mean?” Wyatt exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “It means, if it doesn’t stop, she will need surgery, Wy. So, when she gets home, you will not stress her out over this Tristan shift. You will let her rest and allow her to heal. Tristan won’t fking’ matter if she dies. Now, get back out there. We have a game tonight.” He demanded. Wyatt was smart not to argue. His brother is the calm one, so if he loses his shift, it’s bad. Even with everything going on, we were able to pull out a win. Wyatt had more penalties than he should have, but the worry was getting to him. We were both counting down the hours until the plane would land. I know their family wouldn’t survive if anything happened to Winter. Their parents divorced about fifteen years ago, and William fought hard to get custody of the kids. He wasn’t going to let any of them go without a fight. I remember because he even took half the season off, and I was worried my best friend would be moving away. But this fear I have about losing her is the same I felt when I was losing my mother. I didn’t want to live in a world where there was no more Winter Hart. My best friend’s younger sister. The only woman I ever truly cared about, and the one I could never have.