Chapter 27 Breaking Point
I couldn’t stop the trembling in my hands as I stepped into the rink that afternoon. My chest felt heavy, suffocating. Every step I took echoed with anticipation, dread, and a bitter sense of inevitability. The hockey season was about to start, but something else was already heating up—something that had nothing to do with the ice.
Kylen was already there. Sharp, focused, intense. His stick clutched in his hands, eyes scanning the ice with precision. But beneath that controlled exterior, I could see it—tension, frustration, a hint of something unspoken, and I knew exactly why.
Lilibeth was leaning against him again, just a little too close, whispering something that made him smile. My chest tightened. The laugh that left his lips had been mine not long ago, and seeing it directed at her was a stab I wasn’t ready for.
I wanted to scream. To run forward, throw myself in the middle, demand he look at me, feel me, remember me. But instead, I stayed, letting the rage and heartbreak simmer like fire in my chest.
Then Adrian appeared.
Effortless. Confident. A storm wrapped in skin and muscle and charm. He skated straight past me, nearly colliding, smirk teasing, eyes flicking to mine just long enough to make my pulse spike. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t hesitate. And that, somehow, made me more furious than anything Kylen had done.
Because Adrian didn’t care.
And Kylen’s attention on Lilibeth—on her laugh, her touch, her closeness—showed me just how little I mattered right now.
Practice began. The ice was chaos. Skates sliced, sticks collided, coaches shouted. Adrian’s presence was magnetic. Every maneuver, every pass, every glide was perfection, and he was pushing Kylen without even speaking. I could see the frustration building in Kylen. His shoulders tensed, jaw tight, eyes flicking toward Adrian again and again.
Lilibeth, of course, noticed. She leaned into him, whispered something, brushed her hand along his arm as if she owned him. My stomach twisted. How could he let her do this? How could he let her claim him so easily after everything?
I couldn’t stand it.
I skated onto the ice, forcing myself forward, letting my body feel the rhythm of the game, the cold bite of the air, the slickness of the ice under my skates. I wanted to be invisible, and yet every movement was fueled by the ache inside me. Every pass I caught, every turn I made, I felt like I was reclaiming a piece of myself that Kylen and Lilibeth had tried to take.
Kylen noticed me. I saw it in the way his eyes flicked toward mine, sharp, calculating, conflicted. I could see the tug-of-war in him—the desire to stay near Lilibeth, the pull toward me, the confusion he refused to voice. And I smiled, quietly, to myself. Because even if he wouldn’t admit it, even if he wouldn’t act on it, the tension was real.
Adrian noticed too. I could see it in the subtle way his smirk shifted, just slightly, when our eyes met. He knew he was stirring the fire. And he was enjoying every second of it.
After practice, we all gathered near the benches, sweaty and exhausted. Lilibeth leaned casually against Kylen, brushing his arm, whispering again. My hands curled into fists. My heart raced.
Finally, I couldn’t hold it anymore.
“Kylen!” My voice cracked across the rink. Heads turned. Even Adrian paused mid-step. Lilibeth’s laughter faltered.
Kylen froze, eyes widening at the sound of my voice. He took a step toward me, then stopped.
I skated toward him, the anger and heartbreak spilling out. “What is going on with you? With her? With us?”
He hesitated. That pause was everything. I saw it—the conflict, the hesitation, the pull in two directions.
“It’s not what you think,” he said finally, voice low, strained.
“Then explain it!” I shouted, voice echoing in the rink. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re letting her do whatever she wants, and you’re letting it happen! You’re… you’re…”
I couldn’t finish. The emotion choked me, tears threatening to fall.
Lilibeth’s expression sharpened. “Lenora,” she said sweetly, a mocking calm in her tone. “Why are you so worked up? He’s mine.”
The words hit like ice water. My chest constricted, pain lancing through me. “No,” I whispered. “No, he’s not.”
Kylen’s gaze flickered between us. His jaw tightened. I could feel the struggle in him—wanting to say something, anything, but unable to find the words.
Adrian skated past the three of us, smirking as he noticed the tension. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to make everything worse.
And it did.
Because I realized something terrifying. Kylen was conflicted, yes, but he wasn’t stepping up. He wasn’t defending me. He wasn’t fighting for us. And that realization hit harder than anything Lilibeth had ever done.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m done,” I said softly but firmly. “I’m done watching you choose her over me. I’m done letting this… this nightmare happen in front of me.”
Kylen’s eyes widened. “Lenora—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted. “Not now. Not ever.”
I skated past them, ignoring the stares, ignoring Adrian’s smirk, ignoring the sting of betrayal. I felt alive and broken at the same time, raw and exposed.
And yet, in that moment, I made a silent vow.
I would not let this ruin me.
I would fight. I would push back. I would take back what was mine.
Because Kylen may have wavered, Lilibeth may have claimed him, and Adrian may be stirring chaos, but I would survive this. I would survive them all.
Outside the rink, the air was sharp, biting. I leaned against the wall, catching my breath. The fire inside me burned hotter than ever.
The hockey season was about to begin.
And I was ready to burn the ice down.