Break My Heart: An Enemies-to-Lovers Coach’s Daughter Sports Romance (Western Wildcats Hockey)
Break My Heart: Chapter 36

I wipe another tear from my face. My reflection in the window tells me everything I need to know. My eyes are red and my cheeks blotchy.

For the second time in eighteen months, my world feels like it’s crumbling around me. The pain and betrayal are all too familiar, and I hate it.

Hate that I let myself trust someone again.

Hayes said all the right things, and I fell for it.

I should’ve known better.

Britt rubs soft circles on my back. “Aw, babe, I can’t stand to see you like this.”

I nod, choking back another sob, though it feels pointless at this stage. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” I mutter, embarrassed by how much I’ve cried tonight. I’ve been like this for over an hour, and yet the tears keep coming.

Who knew a person could cry so much?

“There’s no need to apologize,” she says softly, but the words do nothing to stop the ache gnawing at me.

Across the room, Colby cracks his knuckles, his expression serious. “Want me to take him out?”

I blink, momentarily distracted from my grief. “No.”

“Are you sure?” he presses, raising a brow. “Hayes is one of my best friends, but I’d still do it.”

Despite the hollowness in my chest, a tiny smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Colby shrugs. “Just saying. It’s an option if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the offer.” I try to sound lighter than I feel, but it comes out flat.

Britt nibbles on her lower lip as she stares at me in concern. “Don’t you think you should talk to him? Maybe there’s more to what you saw.”

The memory of Hayes, surrounded by those girls, laughing with them, as if nothing else in the world mattered, flashes in my head.

In that moment, I felt invisible. Something I’ve never felt in his presence. He has the rare ability to make me feel like I’m all he sees.

All that matters.

My heart constricts.

“I don’t know if I want to hear whatever excuses he has. I saw enough to know I don’t mean anything to him.”

As detached as I try to sound, like I’m already past it, the truth is, it’s ripping me apart.

How could he so easily dismiss everything we found together?

The intimacy we shared felt so real.

At least it did to me.

But now… I don’t know what to believe.

Maybe none of it was real.

“You meant something to him,” Britt says quietly. “I know you did. I could see it.”

Even though her words are meant to offer comfort, they only make me ache more.

If I meant something to him, why did he let me think I didn’t?

Why did he let me walk away without a fight?

I swallow hard, pushing back more tears. “I’m going to head over to the rink and clear my head.” I glance around my apartment. Everywhere I look is a reminder of Hayes.

His smile, his laugh, the way he made me feel like I mattered.

I need to escape.

Britt’s worried gaze stays pinned to me. “Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you?”

With a shake of my head, I rise from the couch. “No, it’s okay. I just need some space.” I feel like I’m suffocating. I can’t even go in the bedroom without being slammed with memories.

Maybe I’ll sleep at my parents’ house tonight.

Or for the next week.

Thoughts of Nadia Petrovic flood my brain.

In light of my current situation, I don’t have anything to lose by talking with her and hearing what she has to say.

As I step into the cool night air, the silence surrounds me. The weight of everything that just happened presses down on me. It takes effort to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.

I need the ice.

Even when my world is falling apart, it’s the one place that still makes sense.

I part ways with Colby and Britt outside my apartment building.

My friend pulls me in for one last hug before squeezing me tight. I can’t help but sink into the warmth of her embrace. I feel bad for not telling her about what’s going on with Nadia. But what’s the point when it might not turn out to be anything?

“Call me if you need to talk, okay?” She pulls back just enough to search my face. “I mean it.”

I offer a weak smile. “I will. Promise.”

She nods as Colby slips his arm around her waist. Those two are so perfect for each other. They mesh so well.

And here I’d hoped⁠—

As soon as the sly thought tries to sneak inside my brain, I cut it off.

Nope. I refuse to go there.

With one final wave, I slide behind the wheel of my car and start the engine. I hadn’t realized how late it was until we’d walked outside.

During the short drive to the rink, the sight of Hayes with those girls plays on a constant loop in my brain. It’s enough to make me sick. Even though it’s only nine o’clock, there’s not much traffic on the street, and when I pull into the arena lot, three cars are parked there.

It’s a relief that Dad’s SUV is one of them.

I grab my bag from the trunk and rush toward the entrance. Unease prickles at the bottom of my belly. I can’t help but glance over my shoulder and search the shadows for anything that looks out of place.

The rink feels different at night.

Almost eerie.

It’s the kind of silence that wraps around you and makes your skin crawl. The lights overhead buzz softly, casting a dim glow that barely reaches the edges of the rink. The ice glistens, untouched and perfect. I’ve skated here a hundred times, but tonight, with no one around, it feels like the arena is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. And that only ratchets up my own nerves.

The familiar routine does nothing to soothe my paranoia. I came here tonight to clear my head, not to let my imagination run wild. The hum of the refrigeration system is the only sound that fills the space. It’s a low, constant drone that vibrates through the floor and into my bones.

My fingers tremble as I slip off my shoes and lace up my skates. That’s when footsteps catch my attention. My head jerks up, gaze locking on a solitary figure as my movements stall.

“Hey, sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting to run into you this late. Weren’t you here this morning?”

Dad.

It takes a moment for my heartbeat to settle.

I shake my head. “No, I was up late studying, so I thought I’d get a quick skate in.”

He glances at his watch. “Don’t stay too long. They’ll be locking the place up soon.”

“I won’t.”

He searches my eyes. “Have you given anymore thought to meeting with Nadia?”

I draw in a deep breath and hold it captive. It’s only when my lungs begin to burn that I release it back into the atmosphere. There’s a good possibility that my life will change if I agree to this meeting.

When I remain silent, his gaze softens. There’s an intensity to his voice when he finally speaks. “Ava, this could be your chance. You’ve got so much talent, and I know you’ve been through hell, but Nadia could help you get back to where you’ve always belonged—on the ice, competing again. At the very least, hear her out.”

Competing.

It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, but everything is so uncertain now. And I’m not sure if I’m ready to open that door again and step back into that world.

“Meet with her,” he urges gently.

His words circle through my brain. It’s almost a shock when I blurt, “Okay. I’ll listen to what she has to say with an open mind.”

“That’s all I’m asking. Just give it a chance.”

It’s only when his lips lift into a smile and relief floods his eyes, easing the heavy lines of tension, that I realize how stressed he appears.

My brow furrows as I search his face. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, you know… just heading into the playoffs with a new team.”

I nod, accepting the response. There’s no reason for him to lie. Plus, I know how much he enjoys his position at Western. If the team doesn’t do well, there’s the possibility his contract might not get renewed.

And then he would be on the hunt for a new coaching position, which means more upheaval in our lives.

As tempting as it is to tell him about Nathan, now doesn’t seem like the right time.

“You guys are going to crush it.” I force a smile. “You’ll probably end up winning the championship.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.” He glances at the watch wrapped around his left wrist. “Do you want me to hang around until you’re done? I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” I shake my head, knowing he probably has a ton more work to do before he goes to bed tonight. “I won’t stay long.”

Indecision flashes across his face before he gives me another tight smile and heads toward his office in the locker room.

When he’s about a dozen or so feet away, he swings around. “Text me when you get back to your apartment, all right? I won’t sleep well unless I know you’re safe.”

My rigidly held muscles loosen. “I will.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.”

Once he disappears, I turn my attention to the ice. The familiar chill of the air settles around me, soothing the tension in my body. This is exactly what I need. An escape from everything gnawing away at the back of my brain.

As soon as my blades cut through the smooth surface, a sense of calm washes over me. The rink has always been my sanctuary. Even after everything that happened with Nathan, it still feels like home.

It’s the one constant in my life.

But it’s still not able to fully erase the pain of a broken heart.

Not tonight.

As I glide across the ice, my mind drifts back to the conversation with Dad. As much as the thought of skating under Nadia excites me, the idea of leaving everything I’ve built here at Western—the friends I’ve made, the life I’m trying to piece together—is terrifying.

No matter if I return to skating or not, I can’t shake the feeling that something just as important has slipped through my fingers.

Hayes.

As I push off and glide forward, a chill runs down my spine. It’s colder than usual. Or maybe it’s just me. I pick up speed and try to shake off the strange feelings by losing myself in the rhythm of my skates as they cut through the ice.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The movements come easily at first, the familiarity of my routine taking over. A spin, a turn, a jump that I land perfectly. The sound of my blades hitting the ice echoes in the empty rink.

No matter how fast I go or how many times I push my body to its limits, the disturbing sensation that I’m not alone continues to linger.

I remind myself that there’s no one else here.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, the shadows at the edges of the rink seem darker tonight.

Deeper.

Almost as if something is hiding just out of sight, watching me.

I spin again, harder this time, hoping that if I go fast enough, I can blur out everything around me.

But the sound of my skates isn’t enough to drown out the silence. I keep expecting to hear something.

A footstep.

A creak.

Anything.

But there’s nothing.

Just the empty arena and the weight of my thoughts pressing in on me.

I attempt a triple lutz. It’s a jump I’ve done a thousand times before. As I rise in the air, there’s a split second where it feels like the ice pulls away from me. My landing is solid, but my heart is pounding in my chest, louder than the scrape of my blades.

I force myself to keep moving, to focus on the steps, the jumps, the spins. But it’s hard. My mind keeps wandering back to everything I’ve been trying to forget.

What I walked in on at the hockey house.

Nathan’s refusal to leave me alone.

And Nadia.

What if she decides that my best years are already behind me? Even though I’m not sure if I want the chance, I want to be the one who makes that decision.

Another jump that flows into a spin. I’m desperate to quiet my mind. It seems like the harder I push, the more the rink pushes back at me. The ice feels too smooth, too slick. Almost as if it’s playing tricks on me, waiting for me to crash and burn.

My breath comes in sharp bursts as I slow down, finally coasting to a stop near the center of the rink. The hum of the lights seems louder now, like they’re buzzing right in my ears. I glance around, half-expecting to see someone standing at the edge of the rink, watching me.

But there’s no one.

Just the shadows.

I exhale sharply, trying to laugh it off, but it comes out shaky. I’m being ridiculous.

I’ve been skating alone for years.

Why does it feel so different now?

I take one last deep breath and close my eyes, trying to force everything from my mind.

The cold.

The shadows.

The fear that Nathan is actually stalking me.

Not from across the country but from here at Western.

I focus on the sound of my breath, the feel of the ice beneath my feet, the familiar tension in my legs.

I push off one last time, gliding across the rink in a long, sweeping arc. The cold air rushes past my face, and for a moment, I lose myself in the motion. It’s just me and the ice, nothing else.

But when I stop, the silence presses in again. It’s heavier now, more oppressive. I stand alone in the middle of the rink, my breath misting in the air. And I realize that no matter how fast I skate, no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to outrun the feelings eating at me.

My breath is ragged, chest heaving, as I stare out across the rink. The shadows at the far end seem darker, like they’re closing in.

I blink.

It’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

My heart skips a painful beat when I spot him. For a second, I want to believe I’m imagining things.

It can’t be him.

Not here.

Not now.

But it is.

My old coach stands half-hidden in the shadows, just outside the reach of the dim light. His silhouette is unmistakable—the tall, broad-shouldered frame. The way he stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, as if he’s waiting for me to acknowledge his silent presence.

“You still look good, Ava.” His voice is low, almost conversational, but it sends a shock of fear through me. “It’s a shame you quit.”

The terror that slides through me is icy and sharp. My mouth turns cottony, making it almost impossible to force out the question. “What are you doing here?”

With a shrug, he takes a step forward, his shoes crunching against the ice. “You refused to talk to me. What was I supposed to do?”

I swallow hard as he moves closer, his steps deliberate. The thin barrier of space between us feels like nothing. My skates wobble beneath me, making it impossible to escape.

My heart flutters in panic as the frigid air around us turns suffocating.

“You’re not really going to work with that woman, are you?” he asks, his voice smooth as the whiskey he was always partial to, as he takes yet another step in my direction. “You have to realize we were meant to be together, right? We were so perfect. And we could be again.”

“No.” I shake my head, stepping back instinctively, my blades scraping against the ice. “You crossed so many lines… and you don’t even realize it.”

Nathan’s lips lift. It’s a patient, infuriating smile that makes my skin crawl. “It sounds like your parents filled your head with lies,” he says softly. “I was able to unlock something in you because of our emotional connection. Every move you made was like watching art come to life. It was effortless, fluid, beautiful.”

“What you did was wrong,” I snap, my voice trembling but firm.

His smile never falters. “Did it feel wrong when we were together?” His tone is calm, almost condescending. “I molded you into the perfect skater. No one will ever understand you the way I do. Only I know how to tease out a flawless routine. Deep down inside, you know it’s the truth. You’re nothing without me.”

My breath escapes in shallow bursts as I try to hold my ground. “You manipulated me.”

“No,” he says quietly, shaking his head. The unwavering smile on his face feels like a taunt, the kind of patience that makes me want to scream. “I brought out the best in you. We could be on top again.”

“Stop.” My tone turns desperate. “You’re a predator. You belong locked up behind bars.”

His smile breaks, but only for a second, as his eyes darken, and he takes another calculated step. “You don’t really believe that,” he says, voice hardening. “You’ve been brainwashed.”

I force myself to retreat, but the ice feels unforgiving. The cold, hard surface beneath my trembling legs makes it impossible to feel grounded.

He pulls his hand from his pocket and a glint of metal snags my attention. I’m so transfixed by the small object that I barely notice when he takes another step forward.

My breath hitches and my blood turns to ice as I stare at the gun, unable to tear my eyes away from it.

“Nathan…” My voice comes out sounding as if I’m being strangled from the inside out. “What are you doing?”

“It’s simple. If I can’t have you, no one will.”

His chilling response hangs heavy in the air as it echoes through the arena. Or maybe it just reverberates hollowly in my head. Icy tendrils of fear and panic wrap around my heart, constricting it until movement becomes impossible. Even as he approaches, my brain screams at me to flee. But my feet are slow, the ice beneath me too slick, and my stilted movements are clumsy compared to his steady approach.

“Nathan, please.” My voice cracks as it turns pleading, and my hands shake. I lift them, trying to make him see reason. “Don’t do this.”

He doesn’t respond as his eyes stay locked on me.

Only now do I realize how empty and emotionless they are. He takes another step and raises the gun, pointing it directly at me.

My knees turn to jelly as my body quakes.

As much as I want to glance around and get my bearings, I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I look away for even a second. I’m running out of space and options. A cry escapes from me when my back hits the boards at the edge of the rink, and I realize there’s nowhere left to go.

The cold metal of the barrier presses against my spine, but it’s nothing compared to the icy terror that spreads through my veins.

“Nathan,” I gasp. “Don’t do this.”

“I made you.” His voice remains low.

Eerily calm.

As if what he’s saying makes perfect sense.

“No one will ever push you to be the best the way I did. You need me, Ava.”

My teeth chatter as my heart jackhammers against my chest.

There’s nowhere for me to run. He has me trapped.

The only thing I can focus on is the gun in his steady hand.

My tongue darts out to lick dry lips. “Nathan, please⁠—”

His finger hovers over the trigger, and time slows.

My chest constricts until breathing becomes impossible.

Until thought becomes impossible.

Until there’s nothing left for me to do but pray.