An Ice-Cold Bet

Chapter 3: What the Scoreboard Doesn't Show

Bree asked Colt to meet her at the campus coffee shop on a Wednesday afternoon instead of coming by the rink like she usually did. Colt should have realized that was a warning sign before he even sat down. Bree never asked him to meet her anywhere... She just showed up, jersey and all, fitting herself into whatever corner of his schedule was available. The sudden formality of an actual invite should have told him something was wrong.

He arrived first, claimed their usual corner table by the window out of habit, and ordered her drink before she even walked in... An oat milk latte with an extra shot. When she finally arrived, she was wearing her student activities blazer with her hair pulled back for meetings. She didn't sit down right away. She stood by her chair for a second, looking as though she was reconsidering the whole plan, before finally sliding into the seat.

"Are you okay?" Colt asked, sliding the latte across the table to her. "You look like you're about to give a budget presentation."

"I kind of feel like I am." She wrapped both hands around the cup without drinking. "I've been trying to figure out how to start this conversation for a week, so I'm just going to say it."

Something in Colt's chest went still. "Start what?"

"I think we need to talk about us." Bree kept her eyes glued to her cup instead of looking at him, which was somehow worse than if she had looked him dead in the eye. "There's someone else. But please believe me... nothing physical has happened. I want to be completely honest about that. But anyway, I've met someone, and what I feel about him makes it impossible to keep pretending everything is fine between us."

Colt leaned back in his chair. Suddenly, the background noise of the coffee shop felt deafening... The hiss of the espresso machine, the murmur of surrounding tables, someone laughing two booths over.

"Someone else..." Colt repeated, stunned. "Who?"

"His name is Wyatt. He's a graduate assistant with the ski team." Bree finally looked up, guilt written clearly across her face. "We met through the activities board. He was helping coordinate the winter sports showcase, and we ended up on a bunch of planning calls together. Then we just kept talking after the calls were over."

"How long?"

"Nothing physical has happened, Colt, I swear. But if you're asking how long I've had feelings for him... a few weeks. Maybe a month. I kept trying to convince myself it was nothing, but the feelings wouldn't go away."

A cold, heavy feeling settled in Colt's stomach. It wasn’t anger, but deep disbelief.

"A month. You've been sitting across from me at dinner for a month knowing this?"

"I know how awful that sounds."

"It sounds like you've been lying to me for a month." His voice came out flat and quiet, more shocked than angry. "What is it about him? Just... help me understand. What makes him different?"

Bree took a slow breath, looking as if she had rehearsed this part but still hated saying it out loud. "It's not that he's better than you, or more interesting, or any of the things that would make this easier to hear. It's just that when I'm with him, I don't feel like I'm managing a complicated schedule. He asks me to do spontaneous things. Two weekends ago, he took me hiking. We drove out to the ridge trail in that ridiculous truck of his with the kayak strapped to the top, and we just talked for three hours about nothing. No games to plan around. No practice schedule to check first."

"So this is about a truck and a kayak?"

"It's not about the truck!" Bree said, a flash of real frustration breaking through her careful calm. "It's about what the truck represents. He talks about wanting an actual life. Just hiking, traveling and being outside instead of organizing every single week around someone else's sport. It's called 'living authentically.' I know that probably sounds ridiculous to you, but it made me realize how long it's been since I thought about what I wanted, instead of what fits into your hockey calendar."

"So I'm the guy who doesn't live authentically now? Just because I play a sport?"

"That's not what I said, and you know it." Bree's composure cracked, her voice rising before she caught herself and brought it back down. "I'm not trying to start an argument about who's the better person, Colt. I'm trying to tell you the truth because you deserve to hear it, even if it hurts. I fell for someone else. It happened slowly, and I hated myself for it, but I let it happen. And I am so, so sorry."

Colt stared at her, searching for something to say that wouldn't make him sound pathetic or bitter. "Two years, Bree."

"I know."

"Two years together, and I find out over a coffee that you've been falling for some guy with a kayak for a month... and you just decided this was the week to mention it?"

"I decided this was the week I had to stop lying to both of us," she said softly. "I'm not proud of how I handled this. I should have told you the moment I realized I had feelings for him instead of letting it sit there. That's my fault, and I won't pretend otherwise."

Around them, the coffee shop kept moving as if nothing had happened... A barista called out an order, the door chimed as customers walked in, while Colt sat with the humiliating realization that the last month of his relationship had been a total lie.

"Does he know?" Colt asked. "Wyatt. Does he know you're sitting here breaking up with me right now?"

"He knows I was talking to you today, yes."

"Great," Colt said with a short, bitter laugh. "That's great. Really glad he's kept in the loop."

"Colt, please..."

"No, I get it." He held up a hand to stop her. "You fell for someone else. It happens. I'm not going to sit here and pretend I can argue you out of your feelings. I just... I didn't see this coming. It's a lot to process at a coffee shop on a Wednesday."

"I know it is. I'm sorry to hurt you like this." Bree's eyes filled with tears, her guilt completely overtaking her composure. "For what it's worth, our two years together weren't fake. I really did love you. This isn't me saying none of it mattered."

"Doesn't really change how today feels," Colt said, his voice dropping lower as the initial anger faded into tired sadness. "You get to walk out of here and go be with your new boyfriend. I get to sit here and figure out what just happened to my life."

"That's fair," Bree said quietly.

She sat there for another second, looking as if she wanted to say something else but couldn't find the right words. Finally, she stood up, gathered her bag, and paused beside the table.

"I really am sorry, Colt. I know that doesn't fix anything."

"Yeah," Colt said, without looking up. "Me too."

She left without another word, the door chime signaling her exit. Colt sat alone at the corner table for a long time. The latte he had bought for her sat across from him, going cold and untouched, as he tried to piece together how his life had just completely changed.