Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven
Vanessa POV
A week had a way of slipping past when one wasn’t looking.
I had been so engrossed in my own work that I only realized how much time had passed when I paused mid-sentence, my pen hovering above my notebook, and noticed a familiar pattern– Danny checking his watch.
His jaw tightened slightly, as he shifted severally in his seat like he always did when he needed to leave and was not sure how to bring it up.
Practice.
I didn’t need him to say it anymore, I had learned the rhythm of his life against my will—library meetings that bled into late afternoons, whispered debates over research models, the scratch of his pen against paper when he got impatient, the way his shoulders loosened whenever I finally agreed with him.
We had made progress. Real progress.
More than I wanted to admit.
My project outline had grown teeth— I had tangible structure, depth and purpose for my dissertation. But most intriguing was the fact that I was coming to understand hockey.
That had never been part of the aim for my while doing this project but as I worked with Danny mapping out case studies and the psychological frameworks applied to team dynamics, performance anxiety, identity collapse after injury.
I realized that although I hated the sports the people playing them were human– more human than they would have liked to admit. Danny had been unexpectedly helpful, offering firsthand insight I couldn’t find in textbooks.
The way he spoke about things– locker room pressure, and moving a team with just words–it was like he'd lived it himself.
Maybe he had.
I listened closely, making notes and marking things to ask in the future.
Another thing that I had come to learn about Danny was that hockey was as much of a passion for him as it was an obligation.
I noticed it when his voice changed as he talked about hockey– to him it was not just about the glory but the obligation.
He loved hockey but love didn't make the sport thrive alone. I wondered why I hadn't noticed that about him all those years ago.
Was my prejudice so strong that I blinded myself to his life and reality? I hated that was the case but most of all I hated myself for caring.
“Hey,” he said, already standing, zipping his bag and I nodded
“ It's time for you to go” I said at the same time as he mumbled
“I have to head out early today.”
“Mm,” I murmured, keeping my eyes on my laptop.
I felt him hesitate for a brief moment
“Vanessa.”
I looked up at him then.
“You’re late already.”
His lips curved into something almost like a smile.
“You could say goodbye like a normal person.”
“I could,” I said.
“But then we’d have me blurring boundaries. I hate blurring boundaries”
He studied my for a moment, then nodded.
“Right. Rules.”
Rules I’d made. Rules we were already bending.
“See you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, a beat too fast.
He left without another word, the quiet echo of his footsteps following him out of the library, I looked up at his retreating back until he was out of sight and I exhaled slowly.
Focus.
Someone coughed beside my and I looked up to find the librarian hovering
“ We're about to close” she said softly and I stood to my feet
“ I’m sorry about that” I mumbled, grabbing some books
“ I'll be done soon” I huffed and the woman nodded.
I packed my bag methodically—laptop, notebooks, pens, the annotated journal articles she’d practically memorized by now. I slid my chair back and stood, stretching the stiffness from my shoulders.
That was when I saw it.
A small black item, it sat on the edge of the table where I had been working, half-hidden beneath a stack of printed articles.
Black leather. Worn.
It looked familiar, my chest tightened as I reached for it before I could talk herself out of it.
His wallet.
I stared down at it, my fingers closing around the smooth surface. It was heavier than I expected, weighed like it had more than just cards and cash.
There was something intimate about holding something that seemed to always be on him.
I should leave it with the librarian or I should text him but he was having training so he wouldn't be able to come back.
They were closing for the night, I should pretend I never saw it and they'd pick it up tomorrow morning when he came for their next session.
I didn't do any of those things, like an invisible hand urging me, I reached out to pick the wallet and I flipped it open.
Just a crack but it was enough to see what was inside of it. A flash of silver caught my eye—a photo tucked into one of the inner slots, I pulled it out gently.
It was old with slightly creased paper, a photo of a younger me staring right back at me, no trace of the hardness he carried now.
He was smiling wide, arm slung around a man with the same eyes, the same jawline.
His father.
“Are you done packing” a voice called out and I closed the wallet immediately, guilt rushing into my gut hot and fast.
That wasn’t mine to see.
“ I'm done,” I said, grabbing my bag. I swallowed, glancing around the library as if someone might have seen me opening the wallet but there was nobody.
I exhaled and slipped the wallet into my bag.
“I’ll give it to him,” I muttered.
I told myself I’d catch him later, after his practice.
Somewhere neutral. Somewhere I didn’t have to step foot near the rink.
The lie barely lasted five minutes.
By the time I stepped outside, phone in hand, I already knew how this would end.
I stared at the screen.
Vanessa: You left something at the library.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Danny: Shit. My wallet?
I sighed.
Vanessa: Yes.
Danny: I’m already on the ice.
Of course you are, I thought glumly–this was getting a lot more complicated than I would like.
Danny: Can you… bring it to me?
I closed my eyes shut tightly.
I could say no.
I should say no.
Another notification had my phone buzzing again and I looked down to it another message from Danny
Danny: I’ll owe you. Big time.
I stared at the message until the words blurred.
This was ridiculous, staring at it wasn't going to change much of anything either so I had two choices–ignore it or go to him. I typed before I could think better of it.
Vanessa: I’m on my way.
I regretted it the moment I hit send.