Chapter 218 Chapter 217

Chapter 218 Chapter 217
Logan POV

I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until Harper fell asleep against my shoulder.

We’d stayed at the lake until the sun had almost disappeared behind the trees, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

Some conversations were heavy.

Others somehow drifted into memories that made us laugh until our stomachs hurt.

She reminded me about the time I’d accidentally skated straight into the boards during a middle school game because I’d been waving at someone in the stands instead of paying attention to where I was going.

I insisted the ice had been uneven.

She informed me the ice had been perfectly flat.

Apparently she’d remembered every embarrassing detail.

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Harper remembered everything.

Now she sat beside me on the dock with her head resting lightly against my shoulder, her breathing slow and steady.

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

I doubted she’d even realized she had.

The past few weeks had been just as exhausting for her as they’d been for me.

Planning the charity formal.

Classes.

Alpha Chi.

Trying to keep me from falling apart.

She’d been carrying more than she’d ever admitted.

Carefully, so I wouldn’t wake her, I looked down at her.

A loose strand of dark hair had fallen across her face, dancing gently in the breeze.

Without thinking, I tucked it behind her ear.

She made the tiniest little sound.

Not quite a sigh.

Not quite a hum.

Just enough to make me smile.

“I wasn’t pretending.”

Her voice was sleepy.

I laughed quietly.

“I know.”

One eye opened.

“You smiled.”

“I did.”

“You’ve been doing that more today.”

“I noticed.”

She smiled without opening her other eye.

“Good.”

Then she closed it again.

“You know…”

“I don’t think you’re actually asleep.”

“I’m resting.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is if I say it confidently.”

I shook my head.

“I missed this.”

Her eyes opened completely this time.

“What?”

“You.”

She looked confused.

“We’ve been together almost every day.”

“I know.”

“But…”

I searched for the words.

“…the last few weeks I’ve been so busy worrying about everything that I stopped appreciating the person sitting beside me.”

Her expression softened.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do.”

I turned slightly so I could see her better.

“I’ve spent weeks letting everyone else’s voices become louder than yours.”

She reached for my hand.

“They’re loud voices.”

“They are.”

“But yours should’ve been the loudest.”

She smiled sadly.

“I’m not very loud.”

I laughed.

“No.”

I squeezed her hand.

“But somehow…”

“…you’ve always been the one I hear when I need to.”

She looked down, trying to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I’ve got something to tell you.”

She looked back up.

“What?”

“I talked to Coach after practice.”

“I figured.”

“You knew?”

“He called me.”

That surprised me.

“He did?”

She nodded.

“He was worried.”

I let out a slow breath.

“Sounds like Coach.”

“He didn’t tell me what happened.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He just said you needed someone.”

My chest tightened.

“I did.”

I looked out across the lake.

“He asked me why I started playing hockey.”

She stayed quiet.

“He made me remember the backyard rink my dad used to flood every winter.”

A smile crept onto my face.

“My skates were way too big.”

Harper laughed.

“I remember those skates.”

I blinked.

“You do?”

“Logan…”

She smiled.

“I’ve been watching you since middle school.”

“You wore those skates until eighth grade.”

“I thought they were lucky.”

“They were falling apart.”

“They had character.”

“They had holes.”

“They also smelled.”

I groaned dramatically.

“Can we pretend you never said that?”

“No.”

She laughed.

“I’m enjoying this far too much.”

I couldn’t help laughing with her.

God…

It felt good.

Not forced.

Not fake.

Just…

Easy.

“I realized something today.”

She tilted her head.

“What?”

“I’ve spent years trying to become the player my dad wanted.”

“And?”

I looked down at our joined hands.

“I forgot to become the man I wanted.”

Silence settled between us.

The kind that didn’t need filling.

Finally Harper spoke.

“I think…”

She smiled softly.

“…you’re already becoming him.”

I looked at her.

“What if I mess it up?”

“Oh, you will.”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

She nodded very seriously.

“You absolutely will.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

“That’s reassuring.”

“You’ll say something stupid.”

“You’ll make mistakes.”

“You’ll probably forget an anniversary someday.”

“I would never.”

“You absolutely will.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself.

She held up a finger.

“And when you do…”

“…we’ll work through it.”

I stared at her.

She shrugged.

“That’s what people do.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not.”

Her thumb brushed over the back of my hand.

“But loving someone isn’t about waiting for them to become perfect.”

“It’s choosing them while they’re still figuring themselves out.”

Those words settled somewhere deep inside me.

Because…

That’s exactly what she’d been doing all along.

I looked back toward the water.

The sun had nearly disappeared now, leaving streaks of orange and purple stretching across the lake.

“I think I need to see my mom.”

Harper smiled.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

I looked at her.

“You were?”

She nodded.

“Logan…”

Her voice became gentle.

“You’ve spent your whole life trying to convince your father you’re enough.”

She squeezed my hand.

“Maybe it’s time to spend a little time with the parent who never needed convincing.”

I felt something loosen inside my chest.

Not because she’d solved everything.

She hadn’t.

Richard was still Richard.

Chicago was still waiting.

The NHL scouts were still coming.

But somehow…

Those things didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

Harper stood and brushed the dust from the back of her jeans before holding her hand out to me.

“You coming?”

I looked up at her.

The girl I’d spent years accidentally overlooking.

The woman who somehow always found me anyway.

I took her hand.

“Yeah.”

She smiled.

“Where to?”

I looked back at the lake one last time.

Then toward the road that would eventually lead home.

“I think…”

I smiled.

“…it’s time I stopped running.”

She intertwined her fingers with mine.

“Good.”

Together, we walked back toward our cars, leaving the quiet lake behind us.

For the first time in a very long time…

I wasn’t driving away from something.

I was driving toward the life I’d finally decided I wanted.