Chapter 126 The End of Us

Chapter 126 The End of Us
The rink slowly emptied.

Bags disappeared one by one. Showers ran in the locker room, steam drifting into the hallway. Voices faded as players left in small groups.

Eventually the building settled into the low hum of the cooling system and the distant drip of melting ice.

Jack and Luca returned to their room. The door closed behind them with a soft, definitive click. The space felt smaller than it had that morning.

Luca put his bag down near his bed. Jack did not. He stood near the door, still holding the strap of his bag in one hand, as if he might need to leave again at any second.

Luca noticed. He turned fully to face him.

“Okay.”

Jack looked at him.

Luca’s voice was quiet. “You said we’d talk.”

Jack nodded once. “I know.”

Luca waited. Jack did not sit. That single fact made Luca’s chest tighten with sudden nerves.

“What’s wrong?”

Jack looked at the floor. The worn spot near the foot of the bed where they had both dropped their gear a hundred times. “Luca…”

Luca’s face changed. “Don’t start like that.”

Jack closed his eyes for a second. “I need you to listen to me.”

“No.”

Jack looked up.

Luca shook his head, already stepping closer. “No. Not if you’re about to tell me something I’m going to hate.”

Jack’s chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

Silence filled the space between them. The only sound was the soft tick of the clock on the wall and the distant noise of someone walking past in the hallway.

Luca took another step closer. “Whatever happened last night, we can fix it.”

Jack said nothing.

“We can.”

Still nothing.

Luca’s voice became smaller. “Can’t we?”

Jack finally looked at him. His eyes were already wet.

“I think we need to break up.”

Luca froze. The room seemed to go completely silent. Even the clock felt quieter.

“What?”

Jack forced himself to say it again, the words scraping his throat. “We need to break up.”

Luca stared at him. Then he gave a tiny shake of his head. “No.”

Jack’s face crumpled for half a second before he forced it back into something controlled. “Luca—”

“No.” Luca stepped closer, close enough that Jack could smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and the faint cold of the rink still clinging to his clothes. “I don’t want to.”

Jack looked away. “It’s for the best.”

Luca laughed once. There was no humor in it. “The best.? For who?”

Jack did not answer.

Luca’s voice cracked. “For who, Jack?”

Silence.

“For you?”

Jack’s jaw tightened.

“Or for me?”

Nothing.

“For the team?”

Jack finally said, “Yes.”

Luca stared at him. “We only have two months left.”

“I know.”

“We’ve worked for this for years.”

“I know that.”

“And you’re telling me the answer is to throw us away now?”

Jack’s eyes burned. “It’s not about throwing us away.”

“It feels like it.”

Jack looked at him. “Do you think I want this?”

Luca’s expression broke. “Then why?”

Jack opened his mouth. Nothing came. Luca waited, eyes locked on his.

“Why?”

Jack’s fingers curled into his palms until the nails dug into the skin. “Because it’s the best thing to do.”

“No.” Luca shook his head hard. “You don’t get to say that and expect me to accept it.”

Jack looked away toward the window. Luca stepped closer still, until there was almost no space left between them.

“You were holding my hand.”

Jack’s breathing faltered.

“You dried my hair this morning.”

His eyes closed.

“You came back.”

Luca’s voice broke on the last word. “You told me you loved me.”

Jack whispered, “I do.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

Jack could not answer. His throat had closed.

Luca’s eyes filled. “Is there someone else?”

“No.”

“Do you not love me anymore?”

“I love you.”

“Then what changed?”

Jack’s composure finally cracked. “Everything!”

Luca flinched. Jack immediately lowered his voice, the words coming out rough and uneven.

“Everything changed.”

Luca wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “We can handle the team.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then we’ll find out.”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Why not?”

Jack’s breathing became uneven. “Because we don’t have time.”

“For what?”

Jack looked at him. “For hockey.”

Luca went still. Jack continued before he lost his nerve, the words tumbling out too fast.

“We have two months left. Two months to prove ourselves. Two months to finish what we started. And I can’t keep splitting my head between you and the team and everything else.”

Luca’s voice became barely audible. “I’m everything else now?”

“No.”

“You just made me sound like a distraction.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Jack rubbed both hands over his face. The skin felt hot. “I mean I need to focus.”

“You could focus with me.”

“I tried.”

The words escaped before Jack could stop them.

Luca stared. “Tried?”

Jack realized his mistake too late. Luca’s eyes shone with something that looked like hurt and understanding at the same time.

“So being with me was something you were trying to tolerate?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Jack stepped toward him. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

“Try.”

Jack’s voice broke. “I can’t lose hockey.”

Luca’s face softened for a second. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Jack shook his head. “You don’t know what this costs.”

Luca caught that. His voice sharpened. “What costs?”

Jack went silent.

Luca watched him. “What happened last night, Jack?”

Jack looked away. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Jack’s eyes closed. Luca’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Please.”

Jack’s hands trembled at his sides. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to say My father threatened you. He wanted to say I came home because he called me. He wanted to say I’m doing this because I’m terrified something will happen to you.

But he remembered his father’s voice, calm and absolute.

You stay away from Luca.

So Jack swallowed everything until it sat like stone in his chest.

“We’re done.”

Luca shook his head. “No.”

“Luca—”

“No.” He grabbed Jack’s wrist. His fingers were trembling. “Don’t do this.”

Jack looked down at the hand wrapped around his wrist.

Luca’s grip was tight, almost desperate. “I don’t want to break up with you.”

Jack’s eyes filled. He looked at him. For one second it almost happened. He almost took it back. Almost pulled Luca into his arms. Almost told him everything.

Then he remembered Jamie. Ollie. His father’s warning. The photographs. Luca being watched from across the street.

Jack gently pulled his wrist free.

“I have to.”

Luca’s voice was barely there. “Jack.”

“I have to.”

Luca’s face crumpled. “You’re choosing this.”

Jack finally looked at him. And that was the lie that would haunt him for a long time after.

“Yes.”

Luca stepped backward. One step. Then another. His lips trembled.

“Okay.”

Jack’s chest caved in.

Luca wiped his face quickly, almost embarrassed by the tears. “Okay.”

Jack reached for him. Stopped himself halfway. Luca noticed. That single unfinished motion hurt even more.

“You don’t even want to hug me?”

Jack’s eyes closed.

Luca looked at him. For a moment neither of them moved. The space between them felt wide and impossible.

Jack’s face twisted.

Luca took one final step toward him. “Stay.”

Jack’s eyes filled completely. He looked at the boy he loved the boy standing in front of him with damp hair and red eyes, asking him to choose him.

And Jack chose the lie.

“I can’t.”

Luca nodded slowly. He did not argue anymore. That somehow hurt worse than any of the words that had come before.

Jack picked up his bag. The strap dug into his shoulder. His hand reached for the door.

Luca stood behind him, crying silently, shoulders shaking once before he forced them still.

Jack stopped. His fingers tightened around the handle until the metal bit into his palm. He did not turn around.

“I’m sorry.”

Luca’s answer came broken, almost too quiet to hear.

Jack opened the door. He stepped into the hallway. The door closed behind him with a soft, final sound.

Only then did Jack let his face collapse. He pressed his fist against his mouth, forcing the sound back down into his chest where it burned. His eyes burned. His throat burned. Everything burned.

Inside the room, Luca slid slowly to the floor beside the bed. His hands covered his face. His shoulders shook once, then again, harder.

The room was exactly the same as it had been that morning—two beds, two hockey bags, the faint smell of damp towels and cold air from the rink. Two lives that had fit together so easily.

Except now there was only one person sitting on the floor.

And the other one was already walking away