I caught him at his car.
"What happened in there?"
He was unlocking the door. Not looking at me. The parking lot half-empty, the distant noise of the rink still carrying through the cold air – the aftermath of a win that should have been ours to enjoy together.
"You touched him."
"I touched his SHOULDER, Rhys. For half a second. While saying good game. The same thing you'd say to any player after a–"
"I know what I saw."
"Then you saw basic human decency. That's it. That's the whole thing."
He turned around. His face in the parking lot light – controlled, the jaw working the way it did when he was managing something volatile behind his teeth. Still in the afterglow of four goals and a future forming in a press box and the best night of his career, and all of it overshadowed by my ha
