Chapter 191 One Win Away

Chapter 191 One Win Away
Lena’s POV

The city did not sleep that night. Car horns echoed through the streets long after the final buzzer. Fans gathered outside the arena, filled the restaurants, and packed every sidewalk near the downtown square. Everywhere I looked, people wore team colours with pride.
The team was one win away from the championship.

Ryan stood beside the living room window and watched the celebration from a distance.
He smiled every time another group of fans walked past the house singing the team’s victory song.

“I should be there with them,” he said quietly.

I walked over and stood beside him. “You are.”

He looked at me. “I am standing in my living room.”

“You are still part of every reason they are celebrating, and if not for your injured shoulder, you would be there, remember," I whispered.

He let out a slow breath. “I keep forgetting that.”

“You only forget it when you start judging yourself too harshly,” I muttered.

He smiled. “You know me better than I know myself.”

“I have had enough practice,” I muttered.

He laughed softly. “I think I have heard that before.”

“You have,” I replied.

His smile lingered. Then his expression became thoughtful again. “I miss the noise.”

I understood exactly what he meant. He was not talking about the fans outside; he missed the sound of skates cutting across fresh ice. He missed the chatter on the bench. He missed the quiet confidence that settled over a team before the opening faceoff, and he missed feeling useful in the place that had shaped most of his life.

“You can miss something without letting it define you,” I said.

He nodded. “I am trying.”

His phone buzzed. Coach Hartman.

Ryan answered immediately. “Morning, Coach.”

Coach’s voice carried more excitement than I had heard in weeks. “I hope I did not wake you.”

Ryan smiled. “You did not.”

“I wanted to tell you something before practice.” He said.

“What is it?” Ryan asked.

“The league approved your request.” Coach said.

Ryan frowned. “My request?”

“You can travel with us for the championship game," Coach said.

Ryan looked at me in surprise. “They approved it?”

“They did.” Coach continued before Ryan could celebrate. “There are conditions.”

“I expected that,” Ryan said.

“You are travelling as a non-playing captain," Coach said.

“I understand,” Ryan replied.

“You will stay in the press box during the game.” Coach said. “No bench. No bench. No locker room during intermissions. No locker room. You will attend only medical sessions approved by your surgeon.”

Ryan nodded. “I can do that.”

Coach smiled through the speaker. “The boys will be delighted to hear it.”

After the call ended, Ryan looked at me with the biggest smile I had seen since the surgery.
“I get to be there.”

“You do,” I whispered.

He laughed. “I cannot believe it.”

I stepped closer. “I can.”

He looked at me. “You never stopped believing I would find my way back.”

“I never will,” I whispered.

The flight to the championship city felt calmer than the previous trip. Additional security officers accompanied the team after Detective Harper’s investigation uncovered the attempted infiltration of the charter flight. Even so, I noticed Ryan scanning every unfamiliar face in the airport. Old habits had become difficult to break.

“You are still looking,” I said quietly.

He nodded. “I probably will for a while.”

“There is nothing wrong with being careful,” I said.

“I just do not want fear to become normal.” He replied.

I slipped my hand into his. “It will not.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

When we arrived, the hotel lobby was already bustling with people. Fans waited behind security barriers hoping to catch a glimpse of the players. As Ryan stepped out of the elevator, applause spread through the room. People began cheering his name, and he looked genuinely surprised.

One elderly man raised his cane with a grin. “You still owe us another season, Captain.”

Ryan laughed. “I am working on it.”

A little girl stepped forward with her father; she held out a handmade bracelet. “I made this for good luck.”

Ryan accepted it with his left hand. “It is beautiful.”

She smiled proudly. “My mom said heroes get scared too.”

Ryan became quiet. “They do.”

The little girl looked at his sling. “Does it still hurt?”

"Sometimes," he said.

She nodded. “My knee hurt after I fell off my bike.”

Ryan smiled. “Did you get back on it?”

“Yes.” She replied.

“Then you are braver than you think,” Ryan whispered.

Her father thanked Ryan before leading her away.

As we walked toward the elevators, Ryan looked down at the bracelet around his wrist.
“I think she helped me more than I helped her.”

“I think you are right,” I said.

The next evening, the arena pulsed with energy hours before the opening faceoff. Ryan and I stood in a private hallway overlooking the ice through a glass wall. The players finished warm-ups below us. Ethan noticed Ryan first; he lifted his stick toward the glass, and Ryan answered with a wave.

“He looks ready,” Ryan said.

“He does,” I replied.

“So does everyone else.” He said.

I looked at him instead of the team. “What about you?”

He smiled. “I am nervous.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“I have never watched a championship game from up here.” He muttered.

“You are still part of it,” I whispered.

He nodded slowly. “I finally believe that.”

An arena employee approached us. "Mr Kade, the broadcast team would like a quick interview before the game.”

Ryan looked at me. “What do you think?”

“I think you should go,” I replied.

“You are coming with me,” Ryan said.

“I was not invited,” I replied.

“You are now.” He whispered.

A few minutes later, we stood under the bright studio lights.

The interviewer smiled warmly. “Ryan, congratulations on your recovery.”

“Thank you.” He said.

“You are one win away from a championship.” The interviewer said.

“We are,” Ryan replied.

The interviewer laughed. “You still say 'we'."

Ryan did not hesitate. “I always will.”

The interview ended just as the producer counted down to a commercial break. The cameras remained pointed toward us while technicians adjusted microphones.

Ryan turned toward me. “You know…”

“What?” I muttered.

“I could not have survived this season without you.” He whispered.

I felt my cheeks warm. “You give me too much credit.”

“I do not give you enough.” He said.

He reached for my hand. Without thinking, I stepped closer. He smiled at me in the quiet way that always made the rest of the world disappear. For a brief moment, neither of us noticed that one camera had never stopped recording. Ryan leaned in slightly, and I did the same. Our foreheads were almost touching, and our lips were only inches apart.

Then someone shouted from across the studio. “We’re live again!”

We both froze in the same moment, and the arena’s giant video screen flickered on. Our faces filled the screen. Twenty thousand fans saw us pull apart with matching smiles. For one heartbeat, the entire building went silent. Then the crowd erupted into cheers.

The sound hit me a second later. Thousands of people were laughing, clapping, and whistling.
I covered my face with one hand.

“Oh, no.”

Ryan looked just as embarrassed. “I thought we were off the air.”

“So did I,” I muttered.

The interviewer tried to hide a smile. “I am afraid the control room brought us back a little earlier than expected.”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “That is going to be everywhere in about five minutes.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “I was hoping to avoid becoming another headline.”

The interviewer chuckled. “I think that ship has sailed.”

One of the camera operators lowered his camera. “For what it is worth, that was probably the sweetest live television moment I have seen all year.”

I felt my cheeks grow even warmer.

Ryan looked at me. “I am sorry.”

I shook my head. “You did not do anything wrong.”

“I almost kissed you in front of an entire country.” He said.

I smiled. “You stopped.”

“Barely.” He muttered.

That made both of us laugh. As we left the broadcast area, my phone started vibrating over and over again. I looked at the screen; Vanessa had sent six messages.

Are you two trying to break the internet?

Another message appeared before I could answer. Do not panic. People love it.

I showed Ryan. He smiled.

“I suppose it could have gone worse,” I muttered.

“It definitely could have.” He replied.

When we reached our seats in the executive section, Ethan looked up from the ice during warm-ups. He pointed at us and made an exaggerated kissing face; his teammates immediately understood. Several of them laughed while tapping their sticks against the ice.

Ryan groaned. “I am never hearing the end of this.”

“You brought that on yourself,” I whispered.

“I seem to remember someone leaning toward me too.” He said.

“I was checking whether you were about to say something,” I whispered.

He laughed. “That is a very creative explanation.”

“It is also the only one you are getting,” I whispered.

The arena lights dimmed as the player introductions began. The crowd stood together, and the energy inside the building changed instantly. Ryan’s playful smile disappeared, and the captain returned. He watched every player skate onto the ice with complete focus. I reached for his hand, and he squeezed mine once without taking his eyes off the rink.

“No matter what happens tonight,” I said quietly, “I am proud of you.”

He finally looked at me. “I needed to hear that.”

The national anthem began, and the entire arena fell silent. As the final note echoed through the building, my phone buzzed once.
It was a message from Detective Harper.
Stay alert tonight. We have reason to believe someone connected to the investigation has entered the arena using a media credential. We are searching now.

My heart tightened, and I slipped the phone into my pocket without saying a word. Ryan needed to focus on the game, and I only prayed that whoever had come into the arena was already too late.