Short handed
Short handed
The request–so unexpected and uncharacteristically vulnerable–caught Emma off guard. “I have no intention of being cruel to Jack. We’ve both moved on.”
“Have you?” Veronica studied her. “Because the press seems determined foreignite every possible conflict
tonight.”
“The press thrives on conflict. That doesn’t mean we have to provide it.”
Veronica seemed satisfied with this answer. “Good. Then we understand each other.”
“How did you get up here anyway?” Emma asked as the model turned to leave.
“I used to date the arena security director in Milan.” Veronica shrugged elegantly. “Men in that position tend to think alike across continents.”
After she departed, Emma returned to the owner’s box, processing the strange encounter. Jack and Veronica reconciled. The volatile couple who’d imploded so spectacularly had found their way back to each other, just as Emma and Alek had found their way forward together.
Perhaps there was symmetry in that.
The third period brought the drama everyone had anticipated. Seattle took the lead early, then Boston tied it with five minutes remaining. The crowd roared with every shift, the ordinary Tuesday game transformed into something approaching playoff atmosphere.
With two minutes left, Jack’s line took the ice for Seattle. Emma found herself leaning forward involuntarily, watching his familiar skating stride, the way he called for passes–habits she’d observed hundreds of times from this same vantage point.
The moment unfolded as if scripted: Jack received a cross–ice pass, deked past Boston’s defenseman, and found himself alone against the goaltender. His shot was perfect–top corner, unreachable, the game–winning goal with 1:47 remaining.
The arena fell silent except for the celebrating Seattle players. Jack’s teammates mobbed him along the boards, directly below the owner’s box. As they dispersed for the center ice faceoff, Jack looked up–directly
at Emma.
Their eyes met for three heartbeats. No anger, no triumph, no resentment. Just acknowledgment. Then he nodded once–almost respectfully–before skating back to his bench.
“Well,” Franklin murmured beside her. “That was civilized.”
Emma felt a knot inside her loosen slightly. “Yes, it was.”
Boston pulled their goalie but couldn’t equalize. As the teams lined up for post–game handshakes, Alek appeared at Emma’s side.
“Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Emma watched Jack shake hands with his former teammates without incident. “I had an interesting conversation with Veronica Wells during intermission.”
“The supermodel?” Alek looked confused. “How did she get up here?”
ท
R
O III
1/3
<
Short handed
+ Points?
“Dating security directors has its privileges, apparently.” Emma filled him in on the encounter and Veronica’s revelation about her reconciliation with Jack.
“Interesting timing,” Alek observed. “Must have happened right around when he was traded.”
“Fresh start for everyone,” Emma echoed her earlier thought.
As they prepared to leave, Lisa appeared looking concerned. “Small compitation. The press is requesting joint comments from you and Reynolds about his return–a ‘closure‘ narrative. Seattle’s PR team is surprisingly open to it.”
Emma exchanged glances with Alek, whose expression remained neutral. “What do you recommend?” she
asked.
“Professionally? A brief, amicable joint statement could finally put this storyline to rest.” Lisa hesitated. “Personally? That’s entirely your call.”
Emma considered her options. The easy path was refusal–maintain separation, avoid potential awkwardness. But something about her brief eye contact with Jack, and Veronica’s unexpected visit, suggested a different approach might be possible.
“Two minutes,” she decided. “Brief statements, no questions. And I want Franklin and Alek present.” Lisa nodded. “I’ll arrange it. Press room in fifteen minutes.”
As they walked toward the executive elevator, Alek touched Emma’s arm lightly. “You don’t have to do this.” “Actually, I think I do.” Emma smiled faintly. “Some stories need proper endings.”
The moment proved less dramatic than anticipated. Jack entered the press room wearing his Seattle gear, looking tired but composed. He nodded politely to Emma, Franklin, and Alek before taking his position behind the podium.
Camera flashes exploded as Jack and Emma stood side by side for the first time since the divorce. Journalists leaned forward eagerly, hoping for controversy.
Instead, Emma spoke briefly about Jack’s contributions to Boston during his years with the team, congratulated him on his successful transition to Seattle, and wished him continued success-“except when playing against us.”
Jack, in turn, thanked the Boston organization for his time there, acknowledged the support he’d received during difficult periods, and expressed appreciation for a “clean transition that benefited everyone involved.” No subtle digs, no veiled criticisms–just professional courtesy.
As they concluded, Jack turned to Emma. “Thank you for agreeing to this. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“Professional courtesy,” Emma replied, but without coldness.
“More than I deserved,” Jack admitted quietly, then surprised her by extending his hand to Alek. “Take care of her. She deserves the best.”
Alek’s handshake was firm but not aggressive. “I know.”
As Jack left with the Seattle contingent, Emma felt a sense of completion she hadn’t anticipated. Not forgiveness exactly, nor friendship–but the acknowledgment that some chapters were truly finished. “Well handled,” Franklin said as they departed. “Both of you.”
ค
mo
2/3
R
|||
O
<Short handed
+8 Points >
In the car afterward, Emma finally relaxed, exhaustion catching up with her. “That was more draining than I
expected.”
“You did beautifully,” Alek assured her, reaching for her hand.
“It felt… final,” Emma observed. “In a good way.”
“Closure is underrated.”
Emma turned to study his profile as he drove. “You know what I was thinking during that awful press
conference?”
“How much you wanted to escape?”
“No.” Emma squeezed his hand. “I was thinking how grateful I am that everything happened exactly as it did. Even the painful parts.”
Alek glanced at her, surprised. “Even Jack’s meltdowns? The Adams scandal? The public scrutiny?”
“All of it.” Emma’s certainty surprised even herself. “Because it led here–to us, to this life we’re building. I wouldn’t change any of it.”
Alek brought her hand to his lips. “Neither would I.”
As they drove home through the Boston night, Emma realized they had finally moved beyond playing short–handed–defending against threats, managing crises, reacting to Jack’s drama. For the first time, they could truly focus on building their future rather than navigating their past.
Jack Reynolds would always be part of her history. But after tonight, he no longer defined any part of her story going forward.
Comments
