Chapter 16
"I appreciate the opportunity you've given me to prove myself these past two weeks," Jack said, his composure admirable given the circumstances. "I understand your decision, and I respect it."
Emma studied him across the conference table, searching for signs of the volatile Jack she'd grown to expect. Instead, he sat straight-backed in his suit, accepting the trade news with surprising grace.
"Seattle is excited to have you," she said carefully. "Their offensive system should complement your playing style."
"Fresh start for everyone," Jack nodded, echoing her words from weeks earlier. "When do I leave?"
"Physical examination in Seattle on Monday," Alek explained. "Press conference Tuesday if everything checks out."
"And the announcement here?"
"This afternoon," Emma said. "We'll emphasize this is a mutual decision focused on your career growth."
Jack's eyes betrayed a flicker of something—pain, perhaps, or resignation. "Thank you for that kindness."
The management team dispersed after reviewing final details, leaving Emma, Alek, and Jack alone in the conference room. An awkward triangle of past, present, and futures diverging.
"Can I have a moment with Emma?" Jack asked, glancing at Alek. "Just to say goodbye properly."
Alek looked to Emma, who nodded slightly. "I'll be in my office," he said, exiting with characteristic professionalism.
When the door closed, Jack exhaled deeply. "So that's it. Eight years of marriage, two teams, and a divorce later, I'm heading to Seattle."
"It's a good hockey city," Emma offered lamely.
"Is it because of us?" Jack asked, his facade cracking slightly. "Because of what happened between you and Volkov? Be honest."
"No, Jack." Emma met his gaze directly. "It's because it's the right move for everyone. You need space to continue your recovery away from our complicated history. The team needs to move forward with players who fit our current system."
"And you need me gone so you can finally be with him openly."
"That's not fair."
"Maybe not." Jack ran a hand through his hair—a familiar gesture from their years together. "But it's not entirely untrue either, is it?"
Emma chose her words carefully. "My relationship with Alek developed after our marriage ended. It has nothing to do with this trade decision."
"I believe you believe that." Jack's smile held no humor. "But we both know life isn't that compartmentalized. Everything bleeds into everything else."
"Jack—"
"It's okay, Em. Really." He stood, straightening his jacket. "Part of recovery is accepting consequences. This is just one more."
As he moved toward the door, Emma felt a curious mixture of relief and melancholy. Despite everything, they'd shared a significant chapter of their lives.
"For what it's worth," she said, "I hope you find success in Seattle. On and off the ice."
Jack paused, hand on the doorknob. "I hope you find happiness with him. You deserve that."
The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow felt more final than the divorce papers ever had.
"Sources close to the team confirm Reynolds' trade was accelerated when ownership learned of his early release from treatment against medical advice."
Emma muted the sports channel, where pundits had been dissecting Jack's trade for the past three days. Despite the carefully worded press release, leaks had emerged—some surprisingly accurate, others wildly speculative.
"Turn that back on," Franklin grumbled from his favorite armchair. "I want to hear them squirm trying to analyze my granddaughter's decisions without insulting her."
"It's all noise," Emma said, setting down the remote in her grandfather's study. "The team is moving forward."
"Speaking of moving forward..." Franklin's eyes twinkled. "When are you and Aleksander making things official?"
"We're taking it slow, Grandpa."
"Slow?" Franklin scoffed. "You two move at glacial pace. In my day—"
"In your day, women couldn't own hockey teams," Emma interrupted with a smile. "Different times."
"Fair point." Franklin conceded. "But the world knows you're together anyway. Might as well enjoy the benefits of being public."
He wasn't wrong. Despite their professional discretion, Boston gossip columns had labeled them "hockey's hottest power couple." Photos occasionally surfaced of their rare dinner dates, and social media buzzed whenever they were seen arriving at games together.
"We will. Eventually." Emma changed the subject. "How are you feeling? You seemed tired at the board meeting yesterday."
"Old," Franklin admitted. "But functioning. Stop deflecting."
Before Emma could respond, her phone rang—Lisa's ringtone.
"Mitchell."
"We have a situation," Lisa said without preamble. "Reynolds just gave an unsanctioned interview to Boston Sports Radio. It's... not good."
Emma's stomach clenched. "How bad?"
"He's implying the trade was personal retaliation, that management used his treatment as an excuse to move him while his value was low."
"Is he naming names?"
"Not directly. But he's throwing around phrases like 'conflict of interest' and 'inappropriate relationships affecting personnel decisions.'"
Emma closed her eyes briefly. "Damage control options?"
"I'm drafting a statement emphasizing the mutual benefits of the trade. Seattle's GM is willing to confirm they've been pursuing him for months."
"Good. Send me the draft in thirty." Emma ended the call, turning to find Franklin watching her intently.
"Reynolds showing his true colors?" he asked.
"Apparently rehabilitation has its limits." Emma sighed. "So much for his gracious acceptance."
"People revert to type under pressure." Franklin tapped his cane thoughtfully. "The question is how you respond."
"Professionally. Factually. Without descending to his level."
"Smart girl." Franklin nodded approvingly. "This too shall pass."
But it didn't pass—it escalated. By evening, Jack's interview had spawned a dozen think pieces questioning the ethics of Emma's leadership. Sports talk shows debated whether her relationship with Alek constituted a conflict of interest. One particularly sensational outlet even suggested Jack's substance issues had been exaggerated to justify the trade.
As Emma prepared for bed that night, her phone lit up with Alek's call.
"Have you seen the latest?" he asked without greeting.
"I'm trying not to." Emma sank onto her bed. "Lisa's handling the official responses."
"It's not just media now. The players' association is asking questions about whether proper protocols were followed regarding Jack's medical status."
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course they are."
"I should have anticipated this," Alek said, frustration evident in his voice. "Reynolds was too calm when we told him. Should have known he was planning something."
"We both missed it." Emma lay back against her pillows, suddenly exhausted. "What happens now?"
"We weather it." Alek's voice softened. "Together."
"I feel like I've dragged you into my mess."
"Our mess," he corrected. "I'm as much a part of management decisions as you are."
"But it's my history with Jack that's fueling this. If we weren't together—"
"Stop." Alek's voice was firm. "Don't let him make you question us. That's exactly what he wants."
Emma closed her eyes, drawing comfort from Alek's steadiness. "When did you get so wise?"
"I've always been wise. You were just distracted by my devastating good looks."
Her laugh was genuine, the first real one all day. "True. Very distracting."
"Want company tonight?" he asked. "I could be there in twenty minutes."
Despite the temptation, Emma declined. "Better not. With the current scrutiny, we should be extra careful."
"Professional distance in public," Alek agreed reluctantly. "But remember, Emma—we have nothing to hide or apologize for."