The small apartment living room was quiet except for the hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Ethan sat on the couch with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor as if it could give him answers. His hockey gear bag was tossed by the door, untouched since practice. The weight in the room felt heavier than any gear he had ever carried.
Riley stood by the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She had been watching him for minutes, her heart twisting at the sight of him so defeated. She finally broke the silence.
“You really mean it, don’t you,” she said softly. “You’re thinking about walking away.
Ethan dragged his hands over his face, then dropped them with a sigh. “I am. I can’t keep putting you in the middle of this war. Marcus isn’t going to stop, Riley. Every time I step on
