Chapter 41 Breaking Point

Chapter 41 Breaking Point
Kade

"Again!" Coach Harry's roar echoed across the ice rink.

I gritted my teeth, readjusting my position. Sweat ran down my cheeks, soaking my jersey.

We'd been practicing for two hours, but the coach still wasn't satisfied.

And honestly? Neither was I.

I couldn't focus. Couldn't get my head in the game. Every time I tried to concentrate on the puck, on the play, my mind drifted back to her.

To that kiss.

To the way she'd looked at me this morning.

To the disappointment in her voice when she'd said, "Was a mistake. I know. You made that clear."

"Sinclair, what the hell are you thinking today?" the coach skated up to me, face dark, "Where's your focus?"

"Sorry, Coach," I said, trying to regulate my breathing.

"'Sorry' doesn't win games," he said sharply, "Tomorrow's the game against the Eagles. If you keep being this distracted, we'll get destroyed."

"We won't," I said, my tone harder than expected.

The coach narrowed his eyes at me.

"You better make sure we don't," he said, then turned to the other players, "Everyone, one more time! From the top!"

The team groaned but returned to starting positions.

I skated toward the goal, trying to clear my mind.

But Tatum's face appeared before my eyes again.

The way she'd stood in my doorway this morning. The dark circles under her eyes. Her slightly trembling voice when she'd talked about Leo.

He thinks you don't want him anymore.

Damn it. I knew Leo needed me. I fucking knew that.

But every time I looked at him, I was reminded of how much I'd failed. I hadn't protected him from our parents' coldness. I hadn't given him a normal childhood.

And now, I couldn't even control myself from thinking about his babysitter.

The whistle blew, and I charged forward.

This time, I channeled all my frustration into the puck. The sound of my stick hitting it was crisp and loud; the puck flew toward the goal in a perfect arc.

Goal.

"That's it!" the coach shouted, "Keep that up!"

But I couldn't keep it up.

The next play, I missed. The one after that, I was too slow. By the third attempt, I'd lost the puck to the opposing team completely.

"Sinclair! Bench! Now!"

I skated off the ice, fury and frustration burning in my chest.

Coach Harry followed me, his expression thunderous.

"What the hell is going on with you?" he demanded, "This isn't like you. You're our captain. The team looks to you for leadership, and you're out there playing like a fucking amateur."

"I know," I said through gritted teeth.

"Then fix it," he said, "Whatever's going on in your personal life, leave it off the ice. We have a championship to win."

He walked away, leaving me sitting on the bench, helmet in my hands.

After practice ended, I sat in the locker room, staring at nothing.

Landon sat down next to me, wiping his face with a towel.

"You were fierce today," he said, then paused, "Well, for the first ten minutes anyway. Then you kind of fell apart."

"Thanks for the recap," I said dryly.

"Come on," Landon rolled his eyes, "How long have I known you? You only play this aggressively when something's bothering you. So what is it?"

I didn't answer.

"Is it because of that girl?" he asked, "Tatum?"

My head snapped toward him. "What?"

"Don't pretend," Landon said, a knowing smile on his face, "The whole team can tell. You look at her differently than you look at anyone else."

"You're talking nonsense," I stood up, starting to remove my gear.

"I'm not," Landon also stood, "Look, if you like her, go for it. Life's short—don't waste time."

"She's Leo's babysitter," I said, my tone cold.

"So what?"

"So I can't screw this up," I turned to face him, "Leo needs her. If I... if something happens between us and it goes wrong, she'll leave. Leo will hate me."

Landon was silent for a moment, studying me carefully.

"Have you considered," he said slowly, "that maybe it won't go wrong? Maybe this time will be different?"

I smiled bitterly. "I've never 'not screwed up' anything."

"That's because you've never really cared before," Landon said, his voice unusually serious, "But this time is different. I can see it. You actually give a shit about this girl."

"It doesn't matter," I said, grabbing my bag, "It can't happen."

"Why? Because you're scared?"

"Because I'm realistic," I shot back, "People like me don't get happy endings, Landon. We destroy things. It's what we do."

"That's bullshit," Landon said, "You're not your parents, Kade."

"Aren't I?" I asked, "Look at what I've already done. I kissed her. I crossed a line I swore I wouldn't cross. And now everything's fucked up. Leo thinks I don't want him anymore because I'm too busy avoiding her."

"Then stop avoiding her," Landon said simply, "Talk to her. Figure it out."

"There's nothing to figure out," I said, heading toward the door, "It was a mistake. End of story."

"Kade," Landon called out, "Don't give up just because you're scared. That's not who you are."

I didn't answer, just walked out of the locker room.

In the hallway outside, a few girls were leaning against the wall chatting. When they saw me, they immediately fell silent, eyes lighting up.

"Hi, Kade," one said, voice saccharine sweet.

I nodded and kept walking.

"We'll be cheering at tomorrow's game!" another girl called out.

I raised my hand to acknowledge I'd heard but didn't stop.

Walking out of the sports complex, the evening breeze hit my face. It was already getting dark; streetlights were coming on one by one.

My phone rang.

Isabella.

I stared at the screen, finger hovering over the answer button.

Part of me wanted to ignore it. But Isabella didn't take well to being ignored, and I didn't need another problem right now.

Finally, I answered.

"What?" My tone wasn't friendly.

"You could at least say hello," Isabella's voice came through, tinged with displeasure, "How long has it been since we've seen each other?"

"I've been busy."

"Too busy to see your girlfriend?" Her voice became sharp, accusatory.

"Isabella," I sighed, "We've talked about this. We're not—"

"I know what you're going to say," she interrupted, "But our families have an agreement. You can't just ignore it."

"That's my parents' agreement, not mine," I said, trying to suppress my anger.

"Kade," her voice softened, became almost pleading, "We've known each other since childhood. We're the most suitable match. Why can't you accept that?"

Because I don't love you, I wanted to say. Because every time I see you, I only feel suffocated.

Because when I close my eyes, I see another girl.

A girl with coffee-brown hair and blue eyes and a mole next to her lips that drives me crazy.

"I have to go," I said.

"Wait—Kade, we need to talk about the engagement party. Mother wants to—"

I hung up, shoving the phone in my pocket.

Engagement party. Right.

Another thing my parents had decided without consulting me.

Another cage they were trying to lock me in.

I got in my car and just sat there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel.

Everything was falling apart.

My focus was shot. My relationship with Leo was strained. Isabella was pushing for an engagement I wanted no part of.

And through it all, I couldn't stop thinking about Tatum.

About the way she'd felt in my arms.

About the way she'd tasted.

About the way she'd looked at me this morning—disappointed but not surprised.

Like she'd expected me to fuck it up.

And I had.

I always did.

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

I'd promised Tatum I'd spend time with Leo tonight.

At least that was one thing I could try not to screw up.

Even if everything else was already broken.