Chapter 125 I Came Back
Chapter 125 I Came Back
Jack returned to the dorm before breakfast was completely over.
The hallway still carried the faint smell of coffee and toast from the kitchenette. He opened the door quietly, the soft click of the latch louder than it should have been in the quiet room.
Luca had just come out of the bathroom. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. A towel hung loosely around his shoulders. He stood in front of the small mirror above the desk, dragging a brush slowly through the tangled ends.
He saw Jack through the mirror.
For a second neither of them moved.
Luca’s shoulders loosened almost imperceptibly. The tension he had been carrying since last night eased just enough to be visible.
“You came back.”
Jack closed the door behind him. The soft thud of it settling into the frame felt final.
“Yeah.”
Luca turned around. Water still dripped from the ends of his hair onto the collar of his t-shirt.
He studied Jack carefully the shadows under his eyes, the tight set of his mouth, the way he stood like he was bracing for something.
“You’re okay?”
Jack nodded. “I’m fine.”
Luca’s expression said he did not believe him, but he did not challenge him yet. He simply watched as Jack walked toward him.
Jack took the brush gently from Luca’s hand and set it on the counter. Then he reached for the towel still draped around Luca’s shoulders. Luca blinked, surprised.
“What are you doing?”
“Your hair’s still wet.”
“I can dry my own hair.”
“I know.”
Jack began rubbing the towel through Luca’s hair, slow and careful, the same familiar way he had done it a dozen times before.
The fabric was warm from Luca’s skin.
Luca’s eyes closed. His shoulders dropped. For the first time since Jack had disappeared the night before, he let himself breathe fully.
Jack kept drying his hair. Neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the soft friction of the towel and the distant noise of someone moving in the hallway outside.
Then Luca said quietly, “I was worried.”
Jack’s hands paused for half a second. “I know.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“I know.”
Luca opened his eyes. Their gazes met in the mirror first, then fully when Luca turned.
“Jack.”
“What?”
“What’s happening?”
Jack’s jaw tightened. The muscle jumped once under the skin. “Nothing.”
Luca turned fully toward him, the towel still in Jack’s hands. “Don’t.”
Jack’s eyes flickered. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t give me that.” Luca took the towel from him but did not step away. The space between them stayed small. “You came back looking like you haven’t slept. You disappeared last night. You didn’t answer my messages. And now you’re standing here drying my hair like everything’s normal.”
Jack swallowed. His throat felt tight.
Luca’s voice softened. “Do you still love me?”
The question landed between them like something fragile and heavy at the same time.
Jack looked directly at him. “Yes.”
Immediate. No hesitation.
Luca’s eyes searched his face. “Then what’s wrong?”
Jack looked away toward the window. The morning light was thin and gray. “After practice.”
“What?”
“We’ll talk after practice.”
Luca watched him for a long moment. His fingers tightened around the towel. “Promise?”
Jack’s throat tightened further. “Promise.”
Luca nodded once. He chose to believe him.
They got dressed together in the same quiet, ordinary way they always had.
Jack knelt beside Luca’s hockey bag while Luca searched for his gloves in the clutter of gear.
The room smelled of the faint chemical tang of skate tape and the clean scent of laundry detergent from the clothes they had pulled on.
“Where’s the tape?”
“Side pocket.”
“No.”
“Other side.”
Jack found the roll and held it up. “This?”
Luca glanced over. “Yeah.”
Jack started fixing the loose end of tape around the blade of Luca’s stick. His fingers worked carefully, the same precise way he taped his own. Luca watched him from above.
“You know I can do that.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep reminding me.”
A tiny smile appeared on Luca’s face—small, tired, but real. Jack finished and handed the stick back. Luca took it, fingers brushing Jack’s for a second longer than necessary.
“Thanks.”
Jack nodded. He reached for his own bag.
Luca started talking again, voice careful. “About last night—”
“Later.”
Luca stopped. Jack zipped his bag and stood.
“After practice.”
Luca watched him for another second, then nodded. “Okay.”
They left the room together. The hallway was cooler. Their footsteps matched for a while.
Luca kept glancing at Jack as they walked toward the rink. Something was wrong.
He could feel it in the careful distance Jack kept between their shoulders, in the way Jack’s eyes stayed fixed ahead instead of finding his the way they usually did. He just did not know what it was yet.
Practice was almost painfully good.
The rink was cold and bright. Fresh ice reflected the overhead lights in long, clean lines.
The air smelled of cold metal and the faint chemical bite of the cooling system.
Jack played perfectly not recklessly, not desperately.
Perfectly. Every pass landed exactly where it needed to. Every movement was controlled and precise.
He anticipated plays before they fully formed, cutting into lanes a half-second earlier than usual, reading the ice like it was speaking only to him.
Coach called his name twice during a sequence.
“Carter!”
Jack looked up, breathing steady.
“Good read.”
Jack nodded once. “Thanks, Coach.”
Luca watched him from the blue line. There was something strange about the way Jack was playing.
He was giving everything to the ice every ounce of concentration, every decision, every sharp cut of his blades.
It was beautiful and distant at the same time. Luca suddenly understood, without fully knowing why, that Jack was preparing for something. He just did not know what.
During one rush Luca sent a clean pass across the slot. Jack took it without slowing, snapped a quick shot, and the puck found the top corner.
The horn sounded. The team cheered. Sam skated over and slapped Jack’s shoulder hard enough to rock him slightly.
“Finally! Where the hell has that been?”
Jack smiled faintly, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. “Guess I found it.”
Luca heard the answer. Something about the quiet finality in Jack’s voice made his stomach tighten.