Chapter 245 I Came Back Anyway

Chapter 245 I Came Back Anyway
POV: Silver Preston
I make it to the parking lot before I stop.
Stand there in the cold, keys in hand, unable to make myself leave.
Because walking away feels wrong. Even though Eli cannot choose me. Even though he is panicking and shutting me out. Even though this is the pattern repeating itself.
Walking away still feels wrong.
I turn around. Walk back into the rink.
Eli is still there. Sitting on the bench by the boards, skates on, head in his hands.
"I can't leave," I say.
He looks up. Eyes red.
"I can't ask you to stay."
"You're not asking. I'm choosing." I walk closer. "I'm choosing to stay even when it's hard. Even when you're panicking. Even when I don't know if this is going to work."
"Silver--"
"Let me finish." I sit next to him on the bench. "You're scared. I get it. The draft is huge. Life-changing. And you're trying to figure out how to balance your dreams with us. I understand that."
"Then why did you walk away?"
"Because I needed you to understand something. I can't be the only one fighting. I can't be the only one choosing us over and over while you keep one foot out the door." I look at him. "I need you to fight too. Even when it's scary. Even when you don't have all the answers."
Eli is quiet for a moment.
Then: "I don't know how to do both. Be with you and pursue hockey the way I need to. It feels impossible."
"So we figure it out together. We don't have to have all the answers tonight. We just have to commit to finding them." I hold out my hand. "Skate with me."
"What?"
"Skate with me. Right now. Just us and the ice. No pressure. No decisions. Just movement." I stand up. "Come on."
Eli looks at my extended hand. At the girl who came back instead of leaving. Who is offering him grace he probably does not deserve.
He takes my hand.
Silver does not have her skates. But Eli helps her find a pair in the equipment room that almost fit. She laces them up, wobbling slightly on the unfamiliar blades.
They step onto the ice together.
No music. No choreography. No audience. Just them and the empty rink and the sound of skates on ice.
Eli skates first. Long, powerful strides that carry him across the rink. The controlled aggression of a hockey player who has spent years perfecting his edges.
I follow. My movements different, more fluid, the remnants of figure skating training still evident even in simple glides.
We circle each other. Not speaking. Just skating.
Eli stops. I stop across from him.
"I'm sorry," he says. "For avoiding you today. For panicking. For making you feel like you're not worth fighting for."
"I'm sorry too. For walking away. For not giving you space to process." I skate closer. "For expecting you to have all the answers immediately."
We start moving again. Side by side this time. Matching pace.
"The draft scares me," Eli admits. "Not because I don't want it. But because it means everything changes. My schedule. My location. My entire life. And I don't know how we fit into that."
"We figure it out. Long distance. Coordinating schedules. Video calls and visits." I glance at him. "It won't be easy. But it's possible."
"What about your skating? Your recovery? Your own future?"
"I figure that out too. Maybe I skate recreationally. Maybe I coach someday. Maybe I find a different path entirely." I do a small turn, showing off despite the ill-fitting skates. "My future doesn't have to look like my mother's plan for it to be worthwhile."
Eli watches me spin. The grace I still carry even after injury. The way I move on ice like it is home.
"You're beautiful when you skate," he says.
"You're beautiful when you stop panicking and just exist with me."
We skate in silence for a while. The rink feels safe. Contained. Like the outside world cannot touch us here.
Eli reaches for my hand. I take it. We skate together, fingers intertwined, finding a rhythm that works for both of us.
"I do love you," he says quietly. "In case that wasn't clear. I love you so much it terrifies me."
"I know. I love you too. Even when you're difficult." I squeeze his hand. "Especially when you're difficult."
We slow. Come to a stop in the center of the ice.
Face each other.
Eli pulls me closer. I go willingly. Our skates touching. Breath visible in the cold air between us.
"We're going to figure this out," he says. "I don't know how yet. But we will."
"Together," I confirm.
"Together."
He leans in. I rise on my skates to meet him.
Our lips are inches apart. Close enough to feel each other's warmth. Close enough that one more movement would close the distance.
The door to the rink bangs open.
We jump apart. Turn toward the sound.
Three hockey players walk in, laughing about something. They stop when they see us.
"Oh. Sorry, Cap." One of them, a freshman, looks embarrassed. "Didn't know anyone was here."
"It's fine," Eli says, but his voice is tight. Frustrated.
More teammates enter behind them. Then Coach Morrison.
"Hayes. Didn't expect to see you here. Thought you were taking a personal day."
"I was. Just needed some ice time to think." Eli helps me toward the exit. "We're done now."
"Good. Because we need to talk. Draft strategy. Your options going forward." Coach notices me. "Privately."
"I'll see you later," I say quietly to Eli.
"Silver--"
"It's fine. Go. We'll talk after." I touch his arm. "It's okay."
His expression says it is not okay. Says he is frustrated with the constant interruptions. With never being able to finish a moment with me.
He squeezes my hand once. Then follows his coach toward the locker room.
I grab the borrowed skates and leave before I can hear the whispers starting.
Outside, the February night has gotten colder. Snow starting to fall again. Light flakes that catch in my hair.
I walk back to my dorm, feeling that familiar frustration. We had a moment. A real moment. Connection and understanding and almost-kisses.
And once again, the world interrupted.
Back in the dorm room, Americus is waiting. Laptop open. Expression stormy.
"We need to talk," she says.
"Not now--"
"Yes now." She stands up. "Because I just spent the last hour watching you and Eli dance around each other and I'm done. Done watching you two almost get it right and then let external forces tear you apart."
"Americus--"
"No. Listen." She walks over, gets in my space. "You love him. He loves you. You're both idiots who keep letting other people's opinions and inconvenient timing destroy what you have. And I'm sick of it."
"It's not that simple--"
"It is exactly that simple. You want to be with him? Then be with him. Stop letting coaches and teammates and internet trolls dictate your relationship." Her eyes flash. "Stop making excuses. Stop waiting for perfect circumstances. Stop being scared."
"I'm not scared--"
"You're terrified. You both are." She grabs my shoulders. "But you know what's scarier than trying and failing? Never trying at all. Spending the rest of your life wondering what if."
"What if it's not enough? What if we try and it still falls apart?"
"Then it falls apart. But at least you'll know you gave it everything." She shakes me gently. "Stop waiting for permission to be happy. Stop waiting for the right moment. There is no right moment. There's just now. And you either choose him now or you lose him forever."
She releases my shoulders. Steps back.
"I can't watch this anymore," she continues. "Can't watch you two keep finding each other and then letting fear tear you apart. It's killing me. And it's killing you both."
"What am I supposed to do? He's going to the NHL. Maybe next month. His entire life is about to change." My voice cracks. "How do I fit into that?"
"You ask him. You have an actual conversation about logistics instead of just assuming it's impossible. You fight for what you want instead of giving up before you even try." She steps back. "But first, you need to admit something to yourself. Something you've been dancing around for months."
"What?"
"Say it out loud. What you feel. No hedging. No qualifiers. Just the truth."
I stare at her. At my best friend who has been watching this whole messy relationship unfold from the beginning.
"I love him," I whisper.
"Louder."
"I love him." My voice gets stronger. "I love Eli Hayes. Completely. Stupidly. In a way that scares me because I've never felt this way about anyone."
"And?"
"And I don't want to lose him. I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting that I wasn't brave enough to fight for us." The tears fall freely now. "I love him. And I'm tired of pretending that's not enough reason to make this work."
Americus smiles. Actually smiles.
"Finally. Took you long enough."
"What do I do now?"
"You tell him. All of it. No holding back. No protecting yourself." She pulls out her phone. "And you do it now. Before you lose your nerve."
"Now? It's almost ten PM--"
"Now. Before the moment passes. Before you talk yourself out of it." She grabs my coat and shoves it at me. "Go. Now. Be brave. Be honest. Be the person you were on that ice tonight before you got interrupted."
I take the coat. Hands shaking. Heart racing.
"What if he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if today scared him off for good?"
"Then you'll know. But I don't think that's what's going to happen." She pushes me toward the door. "Now go. Before I physically drag you there myself."
I step into the hallway. Pull on my coat. Feel terror and determination warring inside me.
I am going to do this. Going to tell Eli everything. No holding back. No protection. Just honesty and vulnerability and hope that it will be enough.
I walk down the stairs. Out of the dorm. Across campus toward the hockey house.
Each step feels like walking toward a cliff. Like I am about to jump and either fly or fall.
But I keep walking.
Because Americus is right. Being scared is not a good enough reason to give up on love.
I reach the hockey house. Stand outside. Pull out my phone.
Silver: I'm outside. Can we talk?
Three dots appear immediately.
Eli: Give me two minutes. I'll come out.
I wait. Breath visible in the cold. Snow falling around me. Heart hammering so loud I can hear it.
The door opens.
Eli stands there. Changed out of his hockey gear into sweatpants and a Yale hoodie. Hair still damp from a shower. Eyes wary but hopeful.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey." My voice shakes. "I need to tell you something. And I need you to just listen. Don't interrupt. Don't try to fix it or respond until I'm done. Just listen. Can you do that?"
He steps outside. Closes the door behind him.
"I can do that."
I take a breath. Feel the words gathering. Feel courage replacing fear.
"I love you," I start. "I love you, Eli Hayes. And I'm done being scared of that. Done protecting myself from the possibility of pain. Done waiting for perfect circumstances that will never come."
He opens his mouth. I hold up a hand.
"Let me finish. You're going to the NHL. Maybe soon. Maybe next year. Your life is about to get crazy and complicated and demanding. And I want to be part of that. I want to figure out how we make this work despite distance and schedules and pressure. I want to try. Really try. With everything I have."
"Silver--"
"I'm not done." I step closer. "I know it won't be easy. I know there will be challenges. Long distance. Different cities. Competing priorities. But I'd rather face all of that with you than face anything else without you. Because you're it for me. You're the person I want to fight for. The person I want to build a life with. The person I choose."
The snow falls heavier now. Coating us both. Making the moment feel suspended. Separate from the world.
"I'm all in," I finish. "Completely. No more one foot out the door. No more protecting myself. Just all in. And I needed you to know that. Needed you to understand that I'm not running anymore. I'm here. I'm choosing you. And I hope--"
My voice breaks.
"I hope you're choosing me too."
Eli stares at me. At the girl standing in the snow, pouring her heart out, being braver than he has ever seen her.
"Say something," I whisper. "Please."