Page 136 of Cross Ice

“One more thing,” he said. “Have you talked to Rachel Nguyen? Nico’s PR manager?”

“Nico suggested that,” I said. “I… wasn’t ready to hear it.”

“Are you ready now?”

I paused. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“Because right now, hockey media is writing about you, and it’s bleeding into your professional life. She has relationships with those reporters. She can’t stop them from covering the relationship, but she can help establish that you’re not part of the hockey story—that questions about you get redirected, that your professional identity stays separate from his public one. It won’t fix everything, but it creates a boundary.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

“It’s worth a conversation. Even just to understand what she can and can’t do.”

He looked at me for a moment.

“Can I ask you something before we finish?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you want this? Not can you survive it, not will you get used to it. Do you actually want the life that comes with being with someone like Nico?”

The question landed harder than I expected. I’d spent three weeks asking myself whether I could handle it. I hadn’t once asked whether I wanted it.

“I don’t know,” I said quietly.

“That’s okay. But that’s the question.” His expression was direct but not unkind. “Because if you’re just trying to endure it—if love is the only thing keeping you in something that makes you miserable—that’s not sustainable for either of you. The PR stuff I can help with, but that part you have to figure out yourself.”

“How did you figure it out? With Griffin?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Griffin came out without mentioning me. He protected my privacy and left me out of it entirely. And I sat with that for about two seconds before I realized I didn’t want to be protected.” He paused. “I posted that I was in a relationship with him. My choice, my timing, nobody asked me to. Because I decided that claiming him publicly mattered more to me than staying invisible.” He looked at me steadily. “That’s not the right answer for everyone. But it was mine. And I had to actually make the decision, not just wait to see if I’d get comfortable eventually.”

After we hung up, I sat at my desk for a long time.

Do you want this?

Not can I survive it? Not will I get used to it?

Do I want it?

I’d been asking myself the wrong question since the photos, since the parking lot, since the morning I woke up in Nico’s bed and watched his face go pale over his phone screen.

I picked up my phone and texted Danny.

Evan

Wesley asked me something I need to think about out loud. Are you free for lunch?

Danny

Give me an hour.

I put my phone down and went back to my notes.

At noon, Danny knocked. He came in, took one look at me—not the wreck he’d probably been expecting—and raised his eyebrows. “You look better than I thought you would.”

“The Wesley call was good.” I closed the door and led him into the kitchen. “We talked about you.”

“Me?” He placed a takeout bag onto the kitchen bar.