The first day he stayed away felt like winning.
I told myself that while I laced my skates in the empty locker room, while I stepped onto the ice and found the far boards empty of his usual early presence, while the cold air filled my lungs without the weight of his attention settling across my shoulders. No controlled turns at the opposite end. No quiet voice correcting angles. No dark eyes tracking every stride like they already knew where I would break.
I skated harder than I had in days. Clean edges. Sharp cuts. The kind of focused violence that left no room for memory. When the rest of the team filtered in I kept my head down and my passes precise. Daniel stayed on the far wing. Coach barked systems work until legs shook. I took every hit square and finished every check like the boa
