Breakaway: An Accidental Marriage Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)

“You think it’s possible to die from hyperventilation?” I ask Angie, pressing my phone to my ear.

She laughs wholeheartedly. “You’re fine. Stop worrying.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who decided it was a brilliant idea to write about your past, baring your soul for everyone to read.” I huff and cross my legs, reaching over for the remote and turning on the TV. “And, as if that wasn’t enough, I decided to confess my feelings for my husband…also for everyone to read.”

“Aww, that’s actually my favorite part of your article. It’s so raw and genuine. It gives me all the feels,” she murmurs. “I’m sure Roman is going to like it.”

“I thought the part about our friendship would be your favorite,” I tease her, quickly looking up Vikings and turning on the first episode of the third season.

“The part about our friendship is not even comparable. I loved everything about that article because your personality shines through your words, making it perfect. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I’m trying,” I tell her honestly. “Kai texted me and said the feedback is overwhelming. The reactions from readers online are positive, and there is a lot of buzz from people who are reading the print issue too.”

“Ugh, I hoped to buy a hard copy when I took Cooper for a walk, but my bladder decided ‘not today’! I had to run home because I had to pee so bad. Being pregnant is so fun,” Angie jokes, making me giggle. “But I’m honored you let me read it before it came out. It means more than you know, Nev.”

“You’re my best friend. How could I publish something so important without letting you read it first? It’s just not realistic.” I sigh. “I haven’t checked anything. Not the website, not social media. I can’t even bring myself to read it…not until I talk to Roman.”

“I wish I could come over to support you.”

“It’s okay. You promised Layla you’d watch Maya while she’s working. Besides, our men will be home soon. Roman texted me on his way to the airport about two hours ago.”

“Yeah, Drake texted me too.” Angie falls quiet, and I hear Maya’s voice say something about one of her toys. “Sorry, Nev, I need to lead a rescue mission. Skye from Paw Patrol was stolen by my very pesky dog.”

“Of course,” I say with a little laugh. “Tell Maya Nevaeh says hi.”

“Sure. Text me if you need anything,” Angie says. Then she hangs up, but not before I hear her yell, “Cooper Jones-Benson, get back here now!”

And I burst into giggles, my body shaking and tears forming in my eyes. This is everything.

I’m so immersed in Vikings that I don’t even hear the door opening. Only when it slams shut do my eyes fly to the hallway.

It’s not a good sign when someone slams the door, right?

Taking the remote from the couch, I quickly pause the show, and that’s when Roman comes into view. The first thing I notice is his mask. It’s on again. Emotionless and indifferent, he stops in his tracks, his eyes holding mine. Something isn’t right. Even the butterflies in my stomach, usually so happy to see him, are still now.

“How was the flight?” I ask the first thing that comes to mind before my throat closes up. My voice sounds groggy and unnatural.

“Same as always,” Roman says, hiding his hands in his pockets.

The air in the room becomes charged, and I swallow my nerves. The silence hanging between us makes my skin itch. The guy who left this apartment four days ago was full of life and affection. But now, I don’t even recognize him. This blank expression and cold gaze. It’s just a shell of the man I love, and I don’t understand what happened.

Except…that this might be his reaction to my article.

“I’m—”

The buzzing of his phone quiets me. I watch him pull it out of his pocket, check it, and put it back. Not a single emotion passes over his vacant face, and I feel like we’re back to how it was in the very beginning. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

“Great article.” He doesn’t mean it. “You must be proud of yourself.”

“Everyone seems to love it,” I mumble weakly.

His eyebrows hit his hairline as he shoots his gaze to me. With the way his lips twist into a grimace, I’m sure he doesn’t share the sentiment.

“Good for you.” Another clipped answer. Another sharp thorn pierces my heart.

Turning on his heel, Roman stomps to his bedroom, leaving me alone. I sit, unmoving, jaw clenched. Should I let him calm down? Wait for him to cool off so we can talk? Because I’m lost right now. Hearing him say that he doesn’t feel that way about me yet. Maybe that he will never love me. Those possibilities were loud in my head, and I was silently preparing myself. But I didn’t expect this.

I glance around the room, and my gaze falls on the plush toy he bought me. With trembling hands, I reach over and take it into my arms, pressing it hard to my chest. Please, Sulley, I really need the comfort your presence brought me when I was a little girl. The monster world would be so much more welcoming than this apartment right now.

Loneliness spreads over my skin, injecting itself deep into my veins. Every bone in my body is filled with the feeling of rejection.

He doesn’t love me.

The guy who told me countless times that he’s not capable of love doesn’t love me.

What a surprise, Nevaeh, right?

I sit on the couch and shut my eyes hard, trying my best not to cry. The sound of the door opening sends shivers down my spine, and I’m surprised to discover Roman in the doorway. He’s still in the same clothes he wore when he came in, but now a gym bag is hanging over his shoulder.

Forgetting how to breathe, I follow him with my eyes as he walks over and sits down on the coffee table in front of me. The bag drops to the floor with a thud, indicating how full it is. Roman puts his elbows on his knees, locking his hands in front of him and lowering his chin onto them. Our eyes meet, and it feels like my world is crumbling down. The anger behind his irises kills my last hope.

He doesn’t love me.

“What’s going on?” I ask in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m moving out,” he deadpans, and I press Sulley harder to my chest. “I’m taking some stuff with me, and once I find a place, I’ll get the rest. You can stay here. I’ve paid for the apartment for the rest of the year.”

“You can’t be serious.” My breath hitches in my throat, and my hands become clammy.

“I am.” Roman shrugs, his eyes shallow. “The apartment is yours now. I won’t take anything except my clothes and personal belongings.”

“Roman, if this is a joke, please tell me. Because I⁠—”

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense!” I yell and jump to my feet, towering over him. “When you left, you told me you were going to miss me. Every time we talked or texted, you told me how much you couldn’t wait to see me. We were happy together, and now this? What fucking happened, Roman?”

The way his facial expression doesn’t even waver makes my legs unsteady. He looks bored, almost like this conversation doesn’t interest him.

“You betrayed my trust,” he replies nonchalantly.

“What?” I slump back onto the couch, my eyebrows knitting together.

“You heard me. You betrayed my trust, and now I have nothing to say to you.” My mouth falls open, and I gawk at him. What is he talking about? “Though there’s something I actually do want to know.” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Please, enlighten me; why did you think it was a good idea to write about my past?”

What’s going on? I’m so lost right now, even my vision darkens. “I didn’t⁠—”

Roman lifts his hand, silencing me. “I read the article, Nevaeh. From start to fucking finish.” Every word is like a nail that stabs my little heart deeper and deeper. “Who gave you the right to write about me? About Maksim? About my family? I sure don’t remember telling you I was okay with it.”

“Roman, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t write anything⁠—”

“Ty izdevaesh’sya⁠1?” he asks, letting his mask slip for the first time today. “Are you kidding me, Nevaeh?”

“I swear this is some kind of mistake. I never⁠—”

“Stop!” he roars, and I rear back in my seat, instinctively grabbing my Sulley from the couch and holding it close. “I was excited to read that article because I knew how important it was for you. I knew how much you struggled with writing it and how much you were…” Roman pauses, gritting his teeth. “Blyat’⁠2, I can’t fucking talk in this language.” Running his palm down his face, he meets my eyes again. “I knew how vulnerable you felt sharing those parts of your past, and I was so proud of you. Hell, I was planning to take you out so we could celebrate. To make you smile because you deserve it for all your hard work. I felt all that, and then I read it, feeling so fucking bad for you when I read about your parents, enraged when I read about Kyle, and so happy when I reached the part about Angie…but then there was the part about me.”

“I wrote about my love for you.” I hiccup, feeling fat, hot tears stream down my face. “I’m in love with you, Roman.”

Roman frowns. His knuckles turn white with how hard he balls his fists. “No.” He shakes his head, and I feel my heart break in two. “Everything I told you about my past, about Maksim, about my father…it’s all there. You didn’t leave anything out. Even my drinking problems. You aired my dirty laundry for everyone to see. To fucking pity me.” He clicks his tongue, looking away. “I’m a project you’re working on. The broken boy you’re trying to heal. It has nothing to do with love.”

He stands up and hovers over me; his gaze is full of resentment.

“I told you you couldn’t fix me.” Roman takes a step back and lifts his bag from the floor. “You should’ve listened to me.”

With squared shoulders and a straightened back, he strolls away from the couch. I cry, my tears streaming freely down my face. My hold on Sulley loosens, and the toy falls to the floor, lying there and proving that not every story gets a happy ending. Especially when the story is mine.

1 Ты издеваешься? — Are you kidding me?

2 Блять — Fuck