#cmbcyb

Sacred: (adjective) regarded with reverence. Synonyms include cherished, divine, revered.

There weren’t a lot of things that Madeleine Murphy considered powerful and important enough to consider sacred – except one tradition.

Summer evenings when Tyson and she would climb out of her bedroom window onto the roof, sitting on an old blanket, playing twenty-questions, and staring at the sunset.

Even though Madeleine always prided herself on her wordplay (she wanted to be a librarian after all), perhaps tradition wasn’t the correct term. There was never a specific time or date that this ritual happened. It was just something that they had been doing since they were 13, shortly after they met and realized that they were bound to be more than just schoolmates.

Madeleine showed him her discovery of how to remove the window screen, allowing her roof access the summer after they first met. Looking back, she did it because she wanted Tyson to think she was cool – what better way to get an adolescent boy’s attention than by doing something that you probably shouldn’t be doing? It worked and soon that was their go-to spot whenever they hung out.

The twenty-questions, however, was Tyson’s idea. It was a way to get to know each other but as a game instead of an interrogation. At first, all the questions were surface level: what’s your favorite color, what’s the best holiday, what’s the coolest thing you own? But eventually, both the location and the questions became deeper and more meaningful as time went on.

The roof of Madeleine’s childhood home became an oasis, somewhere they could sit and be alone and share without the pressure of parents or friends or teachers or coaches listening and potentially influencing their answers. It was a place of trust and truth.

Those moments with him became sacred to Maddie.

And this one, right now, she might soon consider to be the most sacred of them all. Because Tyson was leaving.

It wasn’t for another year, something she kept reminding herself when that fact popped into her head and took all sense of calm from her. He had committed to playing hockey in North Dakota starting in the 2016-17 season. This was still the summer of 2015. Tyson would stay here in the small town they shared together for another twelve months. Madeleine would still be able to sit with him on the roof for maybe another summer.

But there was an ache in her heart that told her this might be last.

“Oh, I got one,” Tyson’s voice dances on the summer breeze, pulling Maddie from her thoughts and back to the present moment, something she should’ve been focusing on anyway. “What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?”

It’s almost immediate, the image that pops in her mind and she can’t stop the laugh and shake of her head as she considers telling him the answer.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she sighs, her blue eyes bright as she looks over to him.

“I already think you’re crazy so what’s a little more weirdness?” Tyson gently teases, his easy joy relaxing her like it always did.

“Okay, fine,” she sighs, in part defeat and part disbelief that she was going to tell him this. “When I was six, I had a nightmare that I was being chased through the city streets by a giant wheel of cheese.”

“A wheel of cheese? Like a monster that looked like a wheel of cheese?”

“Nope, just a regular wheel of cheese that you’d see in a grocery store. And the way I escaped this wheel of cheese was by standing right where a triangle slice of it was cut out of it, so when it rolled over me, I was completely unharmed.”

If Tyson was keeping a serious poker face before, it crumbled at Madeleine’s explanation, his sputtering laughter making her cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Wow, Maddie, that’s really terrifying.”

“I was six, okay!” she rebuts, her outrage ringing false as her own laughter paints the words. “And I think being chased is a very reasonable nightmare to have.”

“Yeah, but once you throw cheese into that situation, you’ve lost me completely.”

“You asked for weirdest dream not most realistic. What about you, Jost?”

“I don’t remember any of my dreams,” Tyson quips, that stupidly cocky smirk appearing on his face making Maddie scoff.

“What a cop out. Here I am, bearing my soul to you and you hit me with an I don’t know,” Madeleine says, her voice ladened with exaggeration.

“I can at least tell you that last summer, my mom tried to wake me up to go to the store with her or something and I said in my sleep – and I quote – but I don’t want to put up the Christmas lights,” Tyson replies, his own voice going into the grumbling whine as he relays his sleep-talking.

There is no stopping the laughter that falls from Maddie, the image perfectly clear to her as she had heard him mumble in his sleep multiple times during their previous sleepovers. Tyson just laughs with her before continuing.

“Like, it’s the middle of summer, Christmas is far away, I think you’re safe, bud.”

“You said no to your mom though? Impressive.”

“I didn’t say no, I just said I didn’t want to do it. There’s a difference, Maddie.”

Madeleine just hums a yeah sure sound, staring back out at the sun slowly sinking down, turning the skies a beautiful cotton candy pink.

These were the moments that Maddie would cherish forever; she thinks. No matter what happened, she would remember the evenings spent on her roof, her and her best friend’s laughter dancing and mingling in the air. But the knowledge of the possible ending hits her again, like a tidal wave crashing on her.

She would remember this forever but part of her didn’t want it to become just a memory. She wanted to be doing this with Tyson when they were in their twenties, in their thirties, up till the point that they couldn’t climb out of her bedroom window. The idea of a time without Tyson by her side was terrifying.

“What scares you most about the future?” she asks, her own racing thoughts forcing the question out of her mouth before she could stop to think it over.

Her blue eyes flit over to Tyson, the weight of her question fully registering, the smile disappearing from his mouth as his own gaze moves to look at the sunset. She can practically see the wheels turning in his head, can see him chewing over the possible answers that he could give her. Madeleine just keeps her attention on him, watching as Tyson’s shoulders raise in a sigh, his legs bending as he pulls his knees to his chest. Her heart tries not to ache at the sight of him looking so much like a little kid.

“I’m scared that I’m not going to be good enough,” he whispers.

Maddie can feel the honesty in his words and the genuine fear behind them. She doesn’t speak, just lets the silence linger, letting Tyson make the next decision; whether to deflect the question back to her or to elaborate. He chooses the latter.

“I feel like I’ve given so much of my life to this dream of playing hockey and I want it so badly but what if I never get there.”

“To the NHL?”

“Yeah, or what if I do but at some point, people decide they don’t want me anymore. I get traded or sent down to the minors or something else. I think that scares me more then never getting there. That there would be a moment, after all this hard work, where I’d have to accept that it’s not going to work out and I’ll have to give it all up.”

There isn’t really anything to say except false promises, promises that Madeleine knows she can’t keep. She couldn’t see the future, couldn’t tell Tyson that he would make it and that he wouldn’t have to give up playing hockey until he decided it was time. So, she just lets his words linger and keeps her eyes fixed on him, staring at his profile, memorizing the way his hair falls, the way he looks with his chin resting on his knees. It is a moment longer before Tyson sighs again, giving a small shake of his head, his body relaxing and stretching back out into its casual position before he looks back at her.

“Your turn.”

“I’m scared of things changing,” she answers immediately, the truth just tumbling from her lips like a waterfall. It’s her turn to sigh as she chews over her answer, her head slightly shaking at the ridiculousness of her fear before continuing.

“Like, I know change is a part of life and there is no use trying to resist is because things will change whether you want them to or not. But I like it here. Not just here in Kelowna, but here. This moment; hanging out with you, no curfew, no real responsibilities, no pressure. No worries about bills or relationships or jobs or school or any of that. I just want to keep a hold of these summer evenings forever. If I could repeat this moment every day for the rest of my life, I’d be content.”

Madeleine’s eyes turn to stare at the clouds now painted with the pastel hues of tangerine oranges and peach pink, the view just adding to the magic of this moment and just emphasizing how much of this was temporary.

“I just never want this to end,” she confesses, her words lingering in the evening stillness.

Tyson doesn’t speak immediately, just lets the silence fall, the only noise being the beginning chirps of the crickets. However, Maddie can feel his eyes trained on her face, seemingly memorizing the shape of her as she previously did to him.

“Well then, let’s promise each other something,” he finally speaks. The conviction in his voice causes Maddie’s gaze to turn to him, their eyes locking, and she is taken back by the seriousness reflecting in his pupils. “Let’s promise that no matter what happens, even if everything around us changes, we’ll still be there for each other. Okay?”

“Okay,” Madeleine whispers, her voice soft but the certainty behind her agreement strong.

The quiet peace washes over them again, their promise floating on the wind as they both lean back, looking out at the sunset, content to be together but lost in their own world, their own fears, their own minds. But it only lasts for a moment, the physical and mental space between them shattered as Madeleine feels the brush of a pinky against hers. She glances down to see Tyson’s finger reaching out to hers, caressing the side of her hand, a quiet coax. Her eyes dart back to his face but his gaze remains staring towards the sun. As if he was worried on how she’d react.

Madeleine assuages those concerns by linking her pinky with his, the childhood symbol of a promise never to break. A smile pulls at her lips when she sees Tyson sigh, his brown eyes looking towards her, a matching grin tugging at the corner of his lips. She doesn’t hesitate to lift their intertwined hands, her lips pressing against her own knuckles as a way to show she meant it, an action which Tyson mirrors. Their eyes lock and it takes every bit of Maddie’s willpower to stop her heart from leaping from her chest. Because the way Tyson is staring at her – with the gentle assurance and adoration – makes everything feel different.

This wasn’t the first pinky promise that they’ve made in the four years of knowing each other. But in this moment, they weren’t just a couple of kids making deals for the hell of it.

This meant more. It wasn’t something frivolous or flimsy – it was a vow, an oath, to the universe, to each other.

And it was theirs to keep. Forever.

The waves splashing against the wooden dock were a soft melody. A melody soon to be drowned out by the whistles and booms of Kelowna’s annual Canada Day fireworks.

Madeleine leans back, the wood still warm from being drenched in sunlight for most of the day. It wasn’t unusual for her to be watching the fireworks over Lake Okanagan. In fact, it was more tradition than anything else.

But this summer, instead of watching them from a distance on her porch or the roof, she would be watching them from a lakefront house.

A bunch of her and Tyson’s friends had rented out an AirBnB on the shore to celebrate the holiday. But… it wasn’t just the long weekend they were enjoying. Even though the true underlying reason for this get together was something that Maddie didn’t want to linger on.

The inevitable summer was finally here. This would most likely be the last Canada Day that they would spend together. And Madeleine would soon have to learn to live without Tyson Jost in her life.

She shakes her head, as if her brain operated using the same mechanics as an Etch-a-Sketch. Even though there was no avoiding the fact that Tyson would be leaving. But she didn’t want to dwell on it.

Especially not now, when she was at a gorgeous lakefront property, her blonde hair in a slight wave from the lake water, the sun-warmed deck against her skin, and the anticipation of the array of colored fireworks.

“Is this seat taken?”

Tyson’s voice echoes through the quiet evening air and Maddie turns her head to look up at him. He was still clad in his swim trunks but the life vest that covered his torso while wakeboarding was now replaced with a cream-colored linen shirt left partially unbuttoned.

“I was actually saving it just for you,” Madeleine replies with a light tease. “Planned on shoving everyone else into the lake if they even thought about taking it.”

Tyson chuckles as he sits down next to her, mirroring her body positioning as he leans back against the dock. Madeleine watches him until he settles completely before turning her attention back to the sky.

She wanted the fireworks to start now; for the colors to light up the sky, the boom and hiss and whistles to bounce off Maddie’s eardrums, for her nose fills with the slight acrid smell of ash and smoke. Fireworks always made Madeline feel nostalgic, an event that was connected so deeply to her childhood.

That feeling of longing for a time far removed washed over her but now, it was twinged with an additional anticipatory pining for this moment and for the person she was sharing it with; the man sitting next to her. She lets out a sigh, trying not to let the future grief ruin the current moment completely.

“Everything okay?” Tyson’s voice sounds again, calling Madeleine’s attention to him. “You seem a little… melancholy.”

“Melancholy? That’s a big word for you, Tyson,” she teases, pushing away his concern; mainly because she doesn’t want him to know that he was partially – albeit indirectly – responsible for her mood.

“You must be a good influence on me,” he quips back. “But seriously, is everything alright?”

 Madeleine pauses, not sure if she wanted to bare her soul to someone who wouldn’t be next to her in a few short months. But then again, maybe distance would be the perfect remedy to any stupid decisions made with him this summer. She still hesitates, turning her eyes back towards the horizon, killing time before she finally speaks.

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

The silence that follows is weighted. Madeleine holds her breath, her eyes still trained to the sky, awaiting the explosion. And waiting to see whether that explosion would come from the scheduled holiday fireworks or from whatever tension and emotion had been thrumming between Madeleine and Tyson since last summer – that evening up on Maddie’s roof where they made a pinky promise to be there for each other forever.

It felt significant back then but it also felt more secure because they had a whole year between them and their separation. Now, during this summer – their last summer – that promise felt… less certain.

“Madeleine.”

The sound of her name falling from Tyson’s lips makes her heart ache but she turns to him anyway. The hesitation and fear remain coiled tightly in her body… until her eyes met his.

As soon as her gaze connects with those brown depths, Madeleine can feel herself relax. That’s what Tyson did to her. That was one of the many reasons she didn’t want him to leave.

“You’ll never lose me.”

“You promise?”

Tyson’s lips curl in a soft smile, his eyes darting down to her hand. Maddie watches as he reaches out to her and without thinking she extends her pinky, thinking that’s what he wants – a new pinky promise or an affirmation of the one they made a year ago.

But she is caught off guard when his fingers sneak under hers, unfurling them until he has enough space to slot his between.

The warmth of the sun-warmed dock has nothing on the heat radiating from Tyson’s palm pressed against hers. That is, until Tyson leans his body closer to hers. Madeleine can see his gaze darting down to her lips and back up to her eyes and she can feel her heart rattling against her ribcage.

“I promise,” Tyson whispers, stopping mere centimeters away from her. “If you want me to.”

Madeleine wasn’t sure what he was asking; if she wanted him to promise her or if she wanted him to kiss her. But as soon as that thought crosses her mind, she realizes that it doesn’t matter. The answer is the same.

“Yes.”

She catches just the glimpse of a smile, his irises sparkling before he moves again, closing the space between them.

Madeleine never thought about kissing Tyson. It was never a fantasy that crossed her mind. But as soon as his lips press against hers, their hands still intertwined, she wonders why she didn’t spend their entire teenage years doing this. It felt… magical. Like a love song. Like a scene from a movie. Like a firework show.

The sound of a whistle followed by a loud bang echoes through the air, breaking Madeleine away from Tyson’s lips, her eyes finding the evening sky and watching the colors of the first firework fizzle out. She can’t stop the grin that twists itself onto her lips as she looks back to Tyson, whose expression mirrors hers.

There is no hesitancy the second time, the two of them falling easily into each other. Tyson’s free hand comes up to tangle in her blonde hair, holding her close before he breaks the kiss, their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ll always find my way back to you,” he murmurs, the words so strong and true that Madeleine can easily hear them over the explosions in the sky.

Maddie couldn’t say for certain if the feeling inside her chest was her heart expanding or if it was shattering. But it didn’t seem to matter in this moment. Because Tyson was there with her, right now. And there was no moment Madeleine would rather be in.

“A Mediterranean cruise?” Maddie says, her face scrunching incredulously although her parents can’t see her expression from the other end of the line.

“Yes! With stops in Italy, France, and Spain. Can you believe it?” her mother squeals.

“I’m sorry, I’m still just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you guys won a vacation… by watching Wheel of Fortune.”

“It was a giveaway – you know the ones where if the contestant wins, you could win – and they finally pulled our Spin ID!” Madeleine’s mother explains for what feels like the dozenth time since Maddie accepted their call. “But, there is some bad news.”

“You aren’t bringing your favorite child along with you?” Maddie sighs dramatically, before taking a sip of her coffee.

“You’re our only child, honey,” her dad chimes in from the background.

“Makes it easy to be the favorite then.”

“Well, yes, there’s only two tickets,” her mother says, the worry in her voice dragging out the sentence.

“Mom, I was just joking,” Madeleine huffs out a little laugh at her mother’s concern that she was seriously upset about not being able to go. “What’s the actual bad news?”

“It takes place at the end of December.”

This time, her mother’s confession did make Maddie place her coffee cup back down on the café table, her eyebrows furrowing at the implication.

“You mean, during Christmas?”

“Yes. I know that you wanted to visit, honey, and we want to see you and hear all about Colorado but… we couldn’t turn this down.” Madeleine can feel her heart softening with her mother’s gentle explanation.

“No, I totally get it. You guys deserve to have a vacation, especially one as awesome as this,” she replies, a smile forming on her face. “Besides, airplane tickets are expensive and I am a broke college student again.”

“Except you’re not a student,” her dad teases, his voice now coming through the phone clearer as he sits down next to her mom, the shifting of the fabric crackling through the phone.

“A broke college employee, then,” she quips back.

“Fair enough. Alright, Lanes, we gotta get going okay. But we’ll talk to you later, okay?”

The chime of the front door pulls Madeleine’s attention towards the sound to see Ashley walking into the café, her vintage briefcase pack slung over her shoulder.

“Sounds good,” Maddie says, lifting her hand to catch Ashley’s eye. The brunette responds to her wave with a nod, walking through the crowd towards her. “Ashley just got here so it’s a good time to say bye.”

“Ditching us for your cool new Colorado friends?”

“If I told you that it was Tyson, would you feel differently?”

The contrasting answers of her dad’s “no” and her mom’s “yes” has Madeleine breaking out into giggles.

“Well, we don’t have time to unpack all of that, so I’m going to hang up now. Love you, miss you, send me tons of pictures of Italy and Spain,” Maddie says.

“And France! Don’t forget France,” her mother calls out.

“How could we ever forget France?”

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe, have fun, and we’ll talk to you soon,” her father says.

The three of them finish uttering their goodbyes and Madeleine hits the disconnect button at almost the exact moment Ashley sits down across from her.

“What this I hear about France?” Ashley asks, taking a sip from her insulated water bottle, her expressive and inquisitive eyes landing on Madeleine.

“My parents are going on a Mediterranean cruise over the holidays,” Maddie explains. “Which unfortunately means that I will be alone on Christmas.”

“Nonsense, you can come over to mine. It’s just going to be me, Amber, and Dominic,” Ashley says, referencing her partner and their adorable three-year old son.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. No one should spend the holiday alone.”

*~*~*~*~*

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Four months.

In approximately 5 and a half hours, it would’ve been four months since Madeleine packed her bags and moved out of the country that she had previously called home, leaving so many memories behind.

And that was the best decision she’s ever made. She had a great job, a great apartment, great friends. She had never been happier. And, of course, there was Tyson.

Tyson, who told her about all the best restaurants in the Denver area. Tyson, who added her to his family ticket list so she could see the Avs play any time she wanted. Tyson, who sent her weird memes and random texts while he was on the road. Tyson, who somehow managed to make time for her despite his hectic schedule. Tyson, who invited her as a plus-one to almost every team event.

Like tonight.

Madeleine stops staring out the passenger window to look towards her best friend, his hands on the steering wheel, the streetlights illuminating his profile.

“Hey, thanks for this,” she says, her voice soft.

“You’re always my plus-one Maddie,” Tyson laughs. “Besides, I think that if I didn’t bring you, I’d get an earful about if from Gabe and Mel. They seem to like you more than they like me.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m so much more responsible than you are,” Maddie teases.

“So, I can’t tell them about that one summer in high school where you - ”

“If you finish that sentence, we can’t be friends anymore.”

“We’re friends because I can finish that sentence.”

“And we pinky promised to never talk about that again,” Madeleine quips back. Tyson glances over at her and she can see that boyish sparkle in his eyes, one that was surely reflected in hers.

“You know I’d never break a pinky promise.”

“You were dangerously close.”

Tyson just chuckles, a soft shake of his head as he turns into Gabe’s neighborhood. Madeleine looks out the window again and sees the cars already lining the Landeskog’s lengthy driveway. After somehow managing to parallel park, Tyson hops out and walks around to opening the door for Madeleine. She easily takes his hand, exiting from the car and moving to tug at the hem of her black dress.

“I’m not overdressed, right?” she asks, her blue eyes darting to Tyson. She watches as Tyson’s eyes trail down her body, taking in her outfit for the second time that night.

“You look great,” Tyson says. “And if you are overdressed, it just means you’ll be the best dressed here.”

His encouraging compliment makes her blush, a soft smile appearing on her lips. Tyson returns her grin before he leading her up the driveway and to the Landeskog’s front door.

The party seems to be in full swing when Tyson opens the door, the sound of music and chatter hitting Madeleine’s eardrums. She lets Tyson take her grey trench coat from her as she walks deeper into the house, her boots tapping on the hardwood floor. She rounds the corner into Gabe’s expansive living room, her eyes scanning over the crowd of faces. Before she can even decide who to greet first, a squeal of her name from across the room calls her attention.

“MADELEINE!!!”

Maddie barely has time to turn before Sydney is crashing into her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here. Is Tyson with you?”

“Right here,” Tyson’s voice sounds behind Maddie. Both her and Sydney turn to see him wandering into the room.

“Perfect. Can you go talk to your boyfriend? He’s driving me crazy.”

Tyson just responds to Sydney’s exasperation with a laugh before he disappears into the crowd to find his ginger best friend.

“What’s JT doing now?” Maddie asks.

“Nothing,” Sydney replies, hooking her arm in Madeleine’s. “It’s just easier to steal you away from your boyfriend by distracting him with mine.”

“I’ve told you before; Tyson isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just didn’t want him hovering over you the entire night – which he would have!” Sydney says, pulling Madeleine into the kitchen. “Boy needs to learn that separation is healthy.”

“We hadn’t seen each other for five entire years before we reconnected. I think we can handle being separated at a party for five hours.”

“We’ll see about that. Now red or white wine?”

Once a full cup of red wine is securely placed in Madeleine’s hand, Sydney brings her back into the main room, the two of them finding a free space on the couch to squeeze into. They spend a few minutes there, catching each other up on their respective lives – Syndey about her holiday break and Maddie about her dread concerning the upcoming semester and the workload it brings to her job.

Eventually, Sydney gets pulled into another conversation and Maddie takes the opportunity to get up and wander around the party. She waves hello to a few people, briefly talks to Andre, asking him how he was settling in, before getting roped into a game of pool with Nate and Mikko – a matchup which she miserably fails at. She departs from the table with the excuse of needing to get a consolatory drink. When she wanders back into the living room with a freshly refilled glass in her hand, her eyes take in the scene in front of her.

Even in the hubbub and the chaos of dozens of bodies and voices, a sense of calm falls over her. There was still a part of her that couldn’t believe this was her life. Here she was, in an expensive house surrounded by people who made more money than she could ever hope to, and these faces that used to be strangers were now people she considered to be her friends.

And it was all thanks to Tyson.

She looks around, trying to locate him amongst the crowd of people, her ears pricked for the sound of his laugh. It takes a few moments before her eyes land on his frame; tucked against a wall and having a conversation with Cale. She starts to walk over to them, weaving her way through the crowd but by the time she gets to the opposite end of the room, Cale had vanished.

“Hey, Tys,” Maddie says, walking those last few steps towards him. “Where’s Cale?”

“Oh, he just went to get a drink, I think,” Tyson replies, his body slouched against the wall. Madeleine steps next to him, her body mirroring his as she takes a sip of her wine.

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing really. Just wanted to ask me a question.”

The natural follow-up to that statement was to ask what the question was. But there was something in Tyson’s clipped words and tone that warned Madeliene to not pull on that thread. So, she didn’t.

“I need to perfect my pool skills,” she laughs, turning the conversation to a new topic. “I can’t keep embarrassing myself in front of your friends every time a pool cue is shoved into my hands.” A small rush of relief flows through her when she sees Tyson visibly relax, that crooked grin appearing on his lips.

“Who’d you lose to this time?”

“Nate. And Mikko.”

“Well, playing against Nate was your first mistake. That man takes everything way too seriously. You never stood a chance,” Tyson jokes, poking fun at his teammate.

“Did you ever find JT?”

“Yeah. Don’t know what Sydney was complaining about. He seemed fine.”

“She actually just wanted to steal me away from you.”

“She’s gonna have to try harder than that.”

It is ridiculous at how fast the butterflies form in Madeleine’s stomach at his words, at the way he looks down at her with a gentle smile playing at his lips. She just takes another sip of from her wine glass, hoping that if Tyson decides to chirp her about the blush in her cheeks, she can blame it on the alcohol.

She glances back at Tyson, ready to breeze over… whatever that moment was. But before she could utter a single syllable, she hears her name being called from across the room.

“Madeleine!” Sydney’s voice raises above the din and Madeleine looks over the crowd to see the blonde waving her over to the bar, JT by her side.

“Speak of the devil,” Tyson chuckles, taking another swig of his beer. Madeleine just shoots him a small apologetic smile before pushing herself off the wall and making her way to Sydney.

Turns out Sydney just wanted her help convincing JT that Italy was the better vacation spot for their summer getaway instead of Barbados. The pictures conveniently stored on Madeliene’s phone were a good bargaining chip, along with the glowing testimonials from her parents about the coastal towns – information that Sydney knew Madeleine had, hence the summoning.

“I feel like I’m being ganged up on,” JT jokes, smiling at his girlfriend.

“We are just providing actual proof from people we know and trust, not random strangers on the internet.”

“Well, in that case, let me find Burky. I think he went to Barbados once.”

“No! That’s not fair,” Sydney protests, quickly grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

“How so?”

“Because I’m your girlfriend and you have to agree with me. Those are just the rules.” Sydney’s elbow moves to jostle Madeleine. “Tell him, Maddie.”

“Sorry, I’m with JT on this one. We presented our evidence, now it’s only reasonable that he presents his.”

“Thank you, Madeleine,” JT laughs before turning a satisfied smirk towards Sydney.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Sydney whines, the sentence directed to both Madeleine and JT before she turns her full attention to her boyfriend.

Madeleine just shakes her head, a smile on her face as she puts her phone back in her purse. With a sigh, she rests her elbows against the marble countertop, looking out over the crowd as Syd and JT carry on their playful argument next to her. Another sip of red wine moves down her throat, the pleasant buzz settling in her sternum, before her eyes look up and connect with the baby blue eyes of Cale making his way towards her. She smiles at him, one that he returns, his usually rosy cheeks growing a shade redder. Madeleine chalks it up to alcohol as Cale appears directly in front of her.

“Hey, Madeleine,” Cale says, moving to stand next to her by the island.

“Hey, Cale. How you doing?”

“Pretty good. You?”

“Good. Party is fun,” Madeleine replies, her eyes dancing down Cale’s frame. It might have been her years of constantly observing people that made it easy for her to read body language, but it wouldn’t take an expert to notice that Cale Makar was nervous.

His shoulders were stiff, his arms crossed in front of him, a beer bottle hanging from his hand. And while he was trying to appear casual by leaning his body against the marble countertop, he seemed like he was trying a little too hard. Madeleine just listens to him talk, a bemused smile playing on her lips.

“Yeah, Mel usually does a good job with these kinds of get-togethers.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“Yeah. I mean Gabe helps out but it’s really all Mel,” Cale continues, the words a little stuttered.

“Cale,” Madeleine says, her voice a little sharper, the tone of it calling Cale’s eyes to connect with her. “What are you doing?”

“What?”

“Are you actually trying to regale me with Mel’s party planning or did you come here for something other reason or are you just drunk and can’t think of anything else to talk about?” she teases, watching the flush on Cale’s cheeks once again darken. “Any of which are perfectly fine options. It is a party after all.”

“Yeah, right,” Cale says, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I – um – did actually come over to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Madeleine replies, fully facing Cale. “Shoot.”

The deep inhale that Cale makes is noticeable, his chest rising with the action. His eyes close as he gathers his thoughts before turning his body completely to Maddie, his gaze locking with hers.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“What?” Madeleine asks, the words hitting her unexpectedly, her smile slightly faltering as she takes in his request.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Cale reiterates, his blue eyes wide and earnest. His question finally fully registers and her immediate response is a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Cale.”

“Really?” Cale asks, making damn sure he was hearing correctly.

His need for reassurance makes her laugh, the smile growing. Madeleine doesn’t hesitate to put her drink down on the island before throwing her arms around Cale. The hug catches him off-guard but it isn’t long until his arms are wrapping around her tighter, holding her close. She finally pulls away, her blonde hair tickling her cheeks.

“Yes, Cale. Really,” she restates. Her response makes Cale visibly relax, his own excited smile appearing on his face. There is a brief pause before Cale pulls her into another quick hug.

“Hey, you two,” a feminine voice sounds from behind Madeleine which causes Cale and her to break their hug, Maddie turning back to Sydney. “Are you coming into the living room for the ball drop?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Madeleine replies, her smile not waning from her face. Sydney rolls her eyes as she takes JT’s hand, pulling him away from the kitchen. Before they completely disappear around the corner, JT shoots Cale a thumbs up. The gesture causes Maddie to turn around to face Cale, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Some of the guys may have been hyping me up earlier tonight.”

“That’s pretty damn adorable, Cale,” Madeleine replies before cocking her head towards the living room. “Shall we?”

Cale happily follows her in, the room already packed with almost the entire guest list. They two of them squish themselves into one of the back corners, the Time’s Square Rocking New Years broadcast displayed on the flat screen hanging above the fireplace.

The minute countdown begins, a cheer going up from the living room. The lingering conversation slowly dwindles as the clock does; the voices that were previously speaking about anything else now joining into the countdown. Madeleine eagerly joins in, the rumble of Cale’s deep timbre right beside her.

“Five… Four… Three… Two… One… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

The hurrah is almost deafening as everyone raises their glasses. Madeleine takes in the celebration around her, smiling at the multitude of couples kissing, starting the New Year with their loved ones by their side. A small chuckle escapes her as she sees EJ lean in to place a smooch on Gabe’s cheek after the two of them pull away from their respective partners.

Madeleine is content to kiss the edge of her wine glass and take another sip of alcohol, a celebration similar to most of the other single guests. But she is slightly caught off guard when she feels an arm loop around her waist, gently pulling her into a strong frame before she feels the sensation of a kiss being pressed onto the top of her hair.

Her head turns, that broad smile on her lips as she looks up at Cale, her blue eyes sparkling in delight.

“You know, for someone who needed hype-men and liquid courage to ask me out earlier tonight, you seem pretty comfortable now,” she chirps.

“Eh, I can blame all that liquid courage,” Cale shrugs, a teasing smirk on his lips. Maddie can’t help the giggles that fall from her lips at his 180-degree attitude change before relaxing into Cale’s hold, her back leaning against his chest.

The mere possibility that her saying yes to his request for a date was the reason for his newfound confidence warmed her from the inside out. Which was good because in the back of her mind, she had noticed a small chill enter the room.

The sound of a loud splash echoes in from outside, almost everyone’s attention turning to the open back door. Curiosity takes a hold of the party, guests pushing into the backyard. Madeleine is among the first few to make walk out onto the porch.

The water of the Landeskog’s outdoor pool is still rippling, the dark shape of a body under the water unrecognizable until the person breaks the surface. Madeleine shakes her head the instant she recognizes the face.

“What are you doing, Tyson?” she laughs, walking closer to the pool’s edge, her boots lightly splashing in the puddles on the concrete from Tyson’s cannonball.

“Going for a swim,” Tyson replies with a shrug of his shoulders.

“In the middle of winter?”

“Pool’s heated.”

Madeleine just laughs again, shaking her head at her best friend’s antics. Her eyes are bright and her cheeks hurt from smiling when her gaze reconnects with Tyson’s, a similar expression painted on his face.

“Care to join me?” he asks, one arm beckoning to the open expanse of the water.

“You’re crazy, Josty.”

“And you love me for it.”

If Madeleine hadn’t been distracted by the action of zipping off her boots and if her mind was cleared of the halo that the previous glasses of wine provided, perhaps she would have heard the weight behind Tyson’s words: that soft and subtle plea. A silent question that was begging for the answer ‘of course I do’ to fall from Madeleine’s lips.

But when Madeleine takes a few steps back before take a running leap into the pool, her body swimming up next to Tyson’s, it seems approval enough. If not for Tyson, then for the other guests to follow their lead, the heated water filling with bodies.

Maddie swims up to Tyson, her arms reaching out to him. Tyson easily extends his reach, his own arms taking a hold of her waist, supporting her as hers rest on his shoulders as they both tread water. Madeleine looks around, loving the smiling faces around her before she looks back to Tyson. He is staring at her, his lips curled in a small smile.

“Still think you’re the responsible one out of the two of us? Convincing everyone to jump in the pool?” Tyson jokes, referencing their previous conversation in the car.

“I think that statement is still accurate,” Madeleine quips. She can see Tyson’s eyebrow raise in question, silently demanding an explanation. “When it was just you in here, people thought you were being weird. When I jumped in, they realized what an amazing idea it was.”

The laughter that falls from Tyson is intoxicating, warming Madeleine more than the heated water ever could, as he directs his brown eyes back to her.

“So, you’re saying that I need you to make my wild ideas seem logical?”

“You always need me Josty,” she teases. “But I also need you. That’s what being friends means, right?”

His smile stumbles, the downturn of his lips so fast and subtle. It was a falter that anyone else could easily miss, but not Madeleine.

“Right,” Tyson replies, his voice twinged with melancholy. Madeleine is about to ask what was wrong but before she can speak, Tyson’s blinding grin is back, his eyes holding no trace of sadness. “Happy New Year, Maddie.”

The change in his demeanor is so drastic that Madeleine convinces herself that she must have imagined it.

“Happy New Year, Tys,” she replies before turning her head back to crowd of people splashing around her.

The joy and laughter from everyone’s lips fills the quiet night, the hope of a new year thrumming through the air. But in her reminiscing, Madeleine misses the subtle flex of her best friend’s hands on her waist.

As if he never wanted to lose her.

As if he was afraid that he already did.

Although the air was still sharp and crisp with the chill of winter, Madeleine’s life had never felt warmer.  And that heat had nothing to do with the bodies packed into the downtown Denver bar adjacent to the Pepsi Center. Or, at least not the bodies of strangers.

Instead, it was the bodies of Avalanche players and their partners – her friends – crowded in the corner section of the bar that made Madeleine feel as if the joy and happiness of summer was surrounding her constantly. Part of her still couldn’t believe that this was her life – a life that had changed so rapidly in the past seven months. But when Gravy handed her another tequila shot with a smirk, she gladly accepts, thinking that if this was a dream that she would eventually wake from, she wanted to make the most of every moment offered.

The tequila goes down her throat with a concerning ease and she leans back against Cale’s shoulder, sitting next to her. She can feel his chuckle, his body angling towards her causing her to sink deeper into his embrace.

“Still doing alright?” he whispers into her hair. Madeleine just looks back at him, never tiring at sight of his normally rosy cheeks darkening whenever he drinks.

“Never better,” she replies with a grin, one that Cale reciprocates before he leans in and places a soft kiss on her lips.

The connection that she had shared with Cale was a little over a month old and so far, it was really nice. He was genuine, respectful, and sweet. It was refreshing, especially since this was the first time she dated since Logan; a relationship that ended up being filled with deception and disdain.

Her relationship with the defensemen was still casual – nothing permanently defined, nothing official. But Madeleine liked it that way. It was easier.

An all too familiar laugh pulls her attention away from Cale, her eyes moving to were Tyson stood at the dartboard with JT, a beer in his hand as he watched his friend throw.

“I’m gonna go see if Tyson is losing,” she jokes, pushing away from Cale and scooting out of the booth seat. Cale’s only reply is a small nod before turning back to the conversation he was having with Nate and Mikko. Madeleine slips out of the corner section her friends claimed, weaving her way through the crowd until she reaches the dartboard area where Tyson and JT stood.

“Who’s winning?” she calls out, the two pairs of brown eyes looking towards her as she hops onto one of the barstools at the tables lining the wall.

“Tyson,” JT replies. “But not by much.” Madeleine watches as JT gathers his dart before walking away, Tyson taking his place behind the tape on the hardwood floor.

“I’m just surprised he is winning,” she laughs, her eyes turning towards her best friend.  

“Hey, I was pretty good at this back in high school,” Tyson says, the joking indignation clear in his voice as he lines up his shot.

“Lucky for you, the red and green on the board aren’t relevant to the point system. If they did, it might be a little harder for your colorblind eyes.”

JT lets out a snort of a laugh, almost inhaling his beer next to Madeleine. Her blue eyes sparkle with humor as Tyson shoots her a playful glare before collecting his darts from the board.

“Even if they meant anything, you’ve still never managed to beat me,” he teases, settling next to her.

“Only because I just have terrible hand-eye coordination. One of the many reasons why you became a professional athlete and I became a librarian.”

“Josty, you’ve never tried to teach your best friend how to play?” JT asks.

“Why would I? If I do, she becomes better than me and there goes my guaranteed win.”

“Wow, so honorable.”

“Hey, take any advantage you can,” Tyson laughs, with a shrug and a wink thrown in her direction. The action causes Maddie to roll her eyes in jest, her head shaking from side to side.

“If you ask Cale, I’m sure he’d be happy to help,” JT tells Madeleine from across the table, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t think it would help,” she laughs in response. “Cale has already tried to teach me how to play pool– unsuccessfully, I might add. I guess I’m just a lost cause.”

“Really, Cale taught you how to play pool? When?” Tyson asks.

“Attempted to teach me. And it was during, I think, our third or fourth date. Why?”

“No reason,” he replies, the inflection of his tone being anything but casual, despite his best attempts to be blasé. His true feelings are only punctuated by an errant throw of his last dart, the point of it digging into the plain cork surrounding the dartboard.

Madeleine can’t stop the laugh that comes at the sight of Tyson’s head falling backward in defeat while JT cheers next to her. The ginger playfully bounds away from the tables, something about Tyson paying for the next round falling from his lips. Tyson just sighs before settling back next to Madeleine, taking the last swigs of his beer from the amber bottle.

There is a brief silence, the only sound being the clicking of the darts hitting each other as Tyson rolls them across the hardwood top of the table.

“Do you want my help?” Tyson asks. “Playing darts, I mean?” he clarifies, picking up the red darts and extending them towards Madeleine.

“I’m not sure,” she hesitates. “Ryan and Clare somehow convinced me to take a few tequila shots so that’ll probably make me worse than I normally am.”

“Who knows? Maybe the alcohol will stop you from overthinking,” Tyson teases, his eyes sparkling in that good-natured way that always made her resolve weaken.

“Is that my weakness? Overthinking? It has nothing to with just having bad reflexes?”

“I think so. It’s your, um… Aegean heel,” he says with a proud flourish. Madeleine laughs at his complete – yet completely misplaced – confidence.

“Achilles heel,” she gently corrects, loving the way Tyson’s cheeks fill with color. “But pretty damn close; same first letter, right culture. I’m impressed.”

“Let it be known I’m not just a dumb jock with a handsome face.”  

“You know I’d never think that.”

“Which part?”

Madeleine hums, the inflection indicating a silent question, to which Tyson replies.

“You don’t think I’m dumb or you don’t think I’m attractive?” he elaborates.

This time, it’s her turn to feel her cheeks to heat up, faster than Madeleine would care to admit. She mutters a quick and teasing ‘shut up.’ Her response causes a cackle to escape Tyson, his head thrown back in delight. Thankfully, he doesn’t linger on her reaction, nor does he force her to give an answer. Instead, he simply holds out the darts again, the silent offer still standing.

She sighs, before taking the darts from his hand, the smile on Tyson’s face spreading even further than she thought possible.

Madeleine sweeps her hand out towards the dartboard, beckoning Tyson to go first. He accepts, walking up to the tape line. Maddie keeps her eyes glued to him, taking multiple mental notes about how he is standing, how he angles his body, how he positions his arms, and how he releases the dart.

JT wanders his way back to the tables, a beer in each hand, when Tyson is adding up his points.

“Did he feel that bad about losing that he’s picking on an easy target?” JT jokes, a sarcastic ‘ha-ha’ falling from Tyson’s lips at his friend’s words.

“Nah, he promised to help me,” Madeleine explains. “But he’ll probably still win anyway.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” comes JT’s reply, accompanied with his shoulder knocking against hers. “I think you can knock this guy down a peg or two.”

The gentle encouragement is what JT leaves Maddie with, dropping off one of the bottles for Tyson before moving back to the collection of tables where a few teammates still lingered. Madeleine turns her attention back to Tyson, who was walking back towards her, an expectant look on his face.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, gesturing to the board. He just smiles at Madeleine’s accusatory look, one that screams ‘you’re supposed to be teaching me.’

“Have to know what you need help with before I can give you advice,” Tyson explains.

Madeleine sighs before pushing herself off the barstool, coming to stand behind the tape on the floor. She tries to remember how Tyson stood, placing one of her feet back as she leans forward. Madeleine takes a dart in her hand and focuses on the bullseye before tossing the small arrow. The dart – expectedly – does not go where she willed it, instead hitting the lower part of the board.

She hears a chuckle escape Tyson and is about to shoot him a glare but when her eyes drift in that direction, he had pushed himself off the wall and was walking towards her.

“You’re left-handed, Maddie,” he says, coming to fill the space behind her. “Switch your stance.”

Madeleine follows his directions, placing her left foot forward and her right foot back.

“Now, you don’t want to lean forward,” Tyson instructs, his hands landing on her shoulders as he pulls her back until her body stands straight. “Now the only other tip is to have the dart tilted a little upward, because that way when it arcs as it falls, it’ll land where you want it to instead of lower than you aimed.”

Madeleine takes each piece of advice, the heat of Tyson’s palms seeping through her shirt. She takes a deep breath, aiming for the inner ring this time instead of the bullseye. The dart flies from her hand and lands a little to the left but still in the correct ring. Even that minor success has a smile appearing on Madeleine’s face, her head turning to look back towards Tyson in excitement. He returns the grin, slightly squeezing her shoulders before returning to the table. Madeleine tries not to mourn the loss of his presence behind her, instead channeling her focusing back to the dartboard.

Their first game continues until Tyson decidedly wins. Even in the loss, Madeleine was happy their scores weren’t leagues a part from each other. The narrow gap between their points makes Maddie want to try again, convincing Tyson into another game with a plead and a convincing lip quiver.

About halfway through, Cale walks up to them both, his tan jacket already on his shoulders.

“Hey, Madeleine, I’m headed out. Do you still need a ride?”

“I think I’ll stay here for a little while longer,” she replies. “The train is still running so I should be fine. Thanks for offer though.”

“Of course,” Cale replies.

He leans into Madeleine, wrapping her arms around her in a hug before he pulls away. Cale presses a quick kiss onto her cheek, causing a giggle to escape her lips. Neither of them notices Tyson’s faltered throw, the dart secure in the space between the soft board and the metal frame. Cale simply departs with a quick wave to the two of them. Madeleine’s eyes follow him until he disappears from her sight. The sensation of cold glass pressed against her bare upper arm causes Maddie’s eyes to jump back to Tyson, now standing next to her with a grin on his face and a bottle in his hand.

“Not leaving with your boyfriend?” he asks, the tease in his voice almost a little too cloying.

“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve successfully deflated your ego,” she chirps back, practically bounding to the dartboard.

After a few more beers for Tyson, another two losses for Madeleine, and too many playful quips to count shared between them, Maddie within reach of her first win. Part of her has to thank the alcohol: Tyson’s continue consumption made his throws less accurate than before while her sobriety during this impromptu tournament helped her focus become clearer, her shots becoming cleaner.

In her last turn, she takes a few deep breaths, before firing at the dartboard. Her aim is precise, the darts falling in the exact wedges that she wanted them to. The points add up and Madeleine can’t stop the cheer that escapes her when she realizes that she finally beat Tyson; a victory that was only six years in the making, from their homes in Canada to this random bar in Colorado.

Madeleine spins to face Tyson, her arms still thrown up in excitement. Her eyes meet her best friend’s bright gaze, the smile on his face not dimming as he walks to her.

It catches her off guard when his body swerves around her and Madeleine’s excitement briefly dims, thinking that Tyson was going to be an uncharacteristically sore loser. But that thought is quickly disproven after he places his darts back into the cup attached to the board and rapidly flipping his body towards her, scooping her up into his arms for a celebratory hug. The laughter that falls from Madeleine is involuntary, her arms wrapping around Tyson’s shoulders as he starts to twirl her around, her body still held firmly in his grasp.

The weight of them together, coupled with Tyson’s not totally sober state has his feet tripping over each other, their center of gravity tilting to the side. Madeleine thankfully finds the ground, planting her feet and holding onto Tyson so his body doesn’t meet the hardwood floor with a hard thud.

The giggles still linger on Madeleine’s lips as Tyson regains his balance, moving back and reintroducing space between them, although his hands remain firmly on her hips, his grip strong. She looks up at Tyson, about make a joke about how mad Coach Bednar would be if he injured himself playing darts. But when her blue eyes connect to his deep brown ones, the jest catches in her throat.

Because Tyson – her best friend, the person that she’s known for years, the person that she missed, and the person that she was so thankful returned to her life – was looking at her. But more than that, he was staring at with such desire, a desire that hadn’t been directed towards her in what felt like years, that all of her thoughts abandoned her.

She just keeps her eyes locked to his, uncertain where this was heading but not determined to end it. The situation felt precarious, as if one misstep, one wrong assumption could send everything crashing down. Her gaze dancing over Tyson’s face, waiting for him to make the next move. She doesn’t miss the subtle flex of his hands on her hip, doesn’t miss the way his eyes soften as he drinks the uncertainty painted on her features.

The tension continues, Madeleine’s nerves spiking and out of habit, she takes her bottom lip into her mouth. Her teeth latch onto some of the loose skin and she tugs at it in worry, causing Tyson’s gaze to dart down towards her lips. Madeleine registers the departure of one of his hands leave its place on her hips but her mind falters at the new sensation of Tyson’s fingers coming to gently rest underneath her chin. The pad of his thumb lifts and lands on her bottom lip before pulling the skin down – a gentle encouragement for her to release it from her bite. She does, her mouth falling open slightly at Tyson’s behest. His thumb doesn’t fall away, instead moving across the dampened skin, brushing over the small split that Madeleine’s fretting opened.

The salt from Tyson’s finger stings as it touches the cut but Maddie realizes that she doesn’t mind it; the sensation grounding her to the moment.

She can feel Tyson’s hold shift, as if his entire body was debating every move. The tension is heavy, almost oppressive, the weight of nine years of words left unsaid hanging in the air above them. Madeleine feels her eyes inexplicably well with tears, as if the wait was too much to bear.

She doesn’t mean for it to happen, but when she blinks, a single drop falls from the ledge of her lower lashes, rolling down her cheek. The movement calls Tyson’s attention to the tear before his gaze returns to hers, the question plainly displayed on his face.

“Please,” is the only word that manages to escape from Madeleine’s throat.

It is a broken plea, soft and staccato. A plea for what, Madeleine wasn’t certain. For him to stop? For him to come closer?

Her lack of clarification leaves Tyson to interpret. Madeleine can feel his hold on her tighten as he pulls her closer, the press of his hand underneath her chin lifting her head. He leans in, seemingly in slow motion, and Madeleine can’t stop her eyes from fluttering close.

It is a moment of complete uncertainty before Madeleine feels the press of Tyson’s lips against hers.

It is delicate, gentle, a mere whisper of a kiss. But as soon as the sensation registers on her skin and in her brain, the trance she was stuck in breaks and Madeleine finally moves.

Her hands creep back, dancing over Tyson’s shoulders to the nape of his neck, her fingers teasing the curls there. She steps closer to press their bodies together, the warmth of him flooding her senses. Tyson’s lips stay politely on hers, unmoving, until Madeleine pushes herself up to him. She returns the kiss with a fervor that could only be described as hunger. Hunger for him, for this, for more.

Tyson responds quickly to her need, kissing her again before opening his mouth, his tongue pressing against the seam of her lips. She gladly grants him access, the floodgates opening and pure desire rushing forward. Tyson’s hand slides from her chin to grip the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, keeping her as close to him as he can.

The way they tangle together is almost animalistic, as if all caution had disappeared and left the two of them to reckon with their untold yearning.

But the previously dim lights of the bar flip to fluorescent, signaling last call, the shock of the brightness causes Tyson and Madeleine to jump away from each other, their hands retreating from the other’s body. The white light crashes over them and when their eyes connect, it is as if the harsh overhead bulbs brought reason with it, recapturing their emotions, and returning them to the gilded cages they previously existed in.

“Shit,” Tyson curses. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Maddie.”

Madeleine wants to say it’s okay, if only to lessen his panic, but she can’t make the words form. Because she knows the statement would be a lie: nothing about this was right.

Tyson was her best friend. She was dating his teammate. She wasn’t supposed to kiss him in a bar when she came here with someone else.

The remembrance of Cale causes her to turn her head towards the corner booth in fear. A voice tells her what she already knows: he isn’t there. But she still worries that maybe Andre or Nate or, even worse, Gabe and Mel were still there and saw her and Tyson lost in each other’s lips.

A sigh of relief falls from her when she doesn’t see any of her friends, the only bodies still lingering belonging to a few regulars and bartenders picking up the abandoned bottles, cans, and glasses.

“I…” she starts, her throat constricting around the syllables. She swallows, gathering herself and piecing her thoughts back together, before forcing herself to speak.

“It’s – it’s really late,” she says. “I should go.”

She turns back towards Tyson, their eyes connecting. Madeleine tries not to notice how his expression shifts from alarm, to confusion, to sadness at her words. The space between them turns, the expanse feeling like a cold and barren wasteland – so different from the warmth and fire that was jumping between them mere seconds ago.

Tyson sighs and Madeleine watches as his entire demeanor changes, as if he was building a brick wall between them before he looks back at her with perfect practiced apathy.

“Is the train running this late?” he asks. It takes a minute for Madeleine to realize that he was talking about the RTD line, her go-to mode of transport between DU and the Pepsi Center.

“Oh,” she says, her mind racking the Light Rail schedule until she realizes that it was almost two hours since the last train departed. “No,” she sighs. “I guess I’ll just call an Uber.”

She turns away from Tyson, fishing her phone out of her pocket and she is about to open the app before she feels Tyson nudge her arm. She ignores the lingering sparks that his touch brings and looks back to see him holding out his car keys to her.

“Just take my car. It’s still in the parking lot of the arena.”

“I – it’s fine, Tyson. I can pay for an Uber.”

“Please. I’m… not sober enough to drive so I wouldn’t be able to get it until tomorrow either way. This way I know it’s safe in your lot. Plus, this way you wouldn’t have to rely on a stranger to get you home.”

The subtle way that he shows how much he cares for her and her safety leaves Maddie’s head spinning. How many signs has she’s missed? Did Tyson always feel like this towards her? How many times had she brushed off his advances with the excuse of their long-term friendship blurring the lines and acting as a smoke screen?

She wants to know, to get to the truth of everything. But right now, she was too tired, too confused to seek those answers. Instead, she takes Tyson’s keys from his hand.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “I can drive you home, if you want.”

“That’s okay,” he replies with a shrug. “I’ve got a spare set of keys at home. I’ll use those tomorrow when I pick up my car. So you don’t have to get up early.”

This time, the pang that echoes through Madeleine’s ribcage is painful, her instinct assuming the worst: he was separating himself from her, creating a distance between them. Part of her worries that it wasn’t going to be temporary. But she doesn’t voice these concerns.

She just offers him another gentle ‘thank you’ and a small nod. Tyson gives her a half-hearted smile before he turns to the small table, the one that they occupied for hours, and gathers the empty beer bottles his hands. He wishes her a soft ‘good night’ as he passes by her towards the bar, presumably to recycle the bottles and close his tab.

There was no reason for Madeleine to hang around but her body doesn’t seem to want to move, still stuck in that moment she shared with Tyson and what it all meant – not only for their past but for their future. She didn’t want to leave these loose threads hanging. No, she wanted to know exactly which one would return her life to what it used to be, which one would mend the gap between her and her best friend, and which one would make everything unravel at the seams.

Eventually, her logic and her exhaustion win out and successfully coax her to throw on her coat and move towards the exit.

The chill from the February air hits Madeleine as she pushes open the sturdy oak door of the bar. The sensation is a pleasant one, the fresh air clearing her head – or at the very least, emptying her mind of any thought except the desire to get home to her warm and comfortable bed. She moves forward, leaving the bar and all those complications behind her.

She can feel the weight of a pair of eyes on her as she departs; brown eyes that she knew better than her own. Eyes that could open her up and read her with an ease than no one else ever could.

Madeleine wills herself not to look back.

She throws the gift-wrapped box onto the sofa, not caring where it landed as she continues her heavy steps down the hall and into her bedroom. As soon as the door is closed and her shoes are kicked into a corner, Madeline collapses face first onto her mattress, the plush cotton of her covers swallowing the angry shriek that she had been holding inside since she left Logan’s house.

Eventually, the rage and anger and adrenaline wear off and as Madeleine rolls over to stare at the ceiling above her, feeling completely… empty.

God, I’m such an idiot, she thinks, her mind flashing back to just a few moments earlier.

Driving to her boyfriend’s house. Grabbing his present off the passenger seat. Opening the door with the very same key he had given to her six months before. Hearing him upstairs. Walking into his bedroom to find him in bed with some other girl.

Choking back every emotion that she wanted to express. Instead, disappearing without a word.

She didn’t know if Logan even knew she was there.

Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe it was my fault, she thinks to herself. I haven’t been as attentive as a girlfriend, not since I graduated last December. With him still busy at school and me busy with work, maybe that’s why. Whatever the reason, he’ll explain it and tell me it was a one-time thing and we will move on from there, stronger than before. This happens to everyone, at least once. Nothing we can’t overcome.

Madeleine was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of her cellphone chiming, alerting a new text message. Blindly reaching out across the bedsheets, she grabs her phone to see that it was Logan contacting her. And as she reads the text, any hope Madeleine had of salvaging this relationship was quickly dashed, like a ship on the rocky coast.

Hey, I can’t make it to dinner tonight. Work just called. Sorry baby. Received on April 18th at 5:46pm

He was blatantly lying to her. She knew that now.

Opening the text conversation she had with Logan, she scrolls back through their messages and starts to count the number of times he had sent her a similar excuse. And after each excuse, the fire in her chest started to burn brighter and more ferociously.

One-time thing, my ass, she thinks as she hits the fifteenth apology. If the texts she was reading were any indication, this had been going on for months, ever since Logan had gotten that new internship.

Hell, was the internship even real? Or was that just another excuse? Madeleine wasn’t sure of the answer and now, she wasn’t even sure that she wanted to know.

Hatred must have been fueling her next actions as she swipes back down to the most recent message and types out a quick reply.

That’s fine. The reservations are still good so if you want to take the brunette you were in bed with today, you can. They are at 7pm under the name Madeleine. Sent on April 18th at 5:58pm

As soon as the message was sent, Madeleine throws the phone across the room, listening to the dull thud it makes as it hits the carpet. A deep sigh falls from her chest as she collapses back across the bed.

What a fucking mess.

Madeleine isn’t sure how long she’s laid there, her mind completely blank. The light shining in from the windows slowly dims from the golden light of sunset to the dusky greys of the early evening. Eventually, she lifts herself up off the bed and wanders over to her vanity, taking in her haggard appearance, mascara streaked and eyes still puffy. She sighs once more, running her hand through her hair and attempts to wipe away the black circles from under her eyes.

There is no clear path on what to do now. No one really makes a handbook on ‘what to do after you catch your boyfriend in the act of cheating on you’. So, instead of thinking about the grand scheme of things, Madeleine decides to start small.

Hop into the shower and try to wash this entire day away.

As soon as the water temperature is just right, Madeleine steps in, the steam and warmth enveloping her. The first relaxed breath she has taken in hours whooshes through her and she takes the time to stand there, letting the water run over her.

After a few moments, Madeleine finds herself going through the motions while her brain decides to –   once again – run through every tiny detail of her previous relationship.

Part of her knew. Some small part of her had been screaming for the past few months, telling her something was off. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Logan was the first long-term boyfriend that she had had since high school. She wanted that to last.

When she first met him, he was the loud, slightly obnoxious guy that sat next to her in her Intro to Philosophy class sophomore year. She figured he wouldn’t even notice the quiet girl that sat across the row from him and she didn’t really make an effort to try and be noticed. But a month into the school year, she ran into him at a bar downtown and he remembered her name. It caught her by surprise. And it caught her even more off guard when he offered to buy her a drink.

They ended up talking for the rest of the night and the next day in class, while she was writing down the notes that Mr. Lauer had up on the chalkboard, a crumpled piece of paper landed on her desk. She glanced over to the other side of the aisle to see Logan glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Unfolding the paper, she saw the hastily scrawled note: ‘want to grab drinks at the 1905 tonight? Please text your response to the number below’

That was their first official date and their relationship just took off from there. Madeleine didn’t even know why he picked her out of all the other girls wandering around campus. But part of her believed that she balanced him out.

Logan was always dragging her out to clubs and bars with his friends whereas she convinced him that a quiet night studying, with plenty of snacks, in one of the private rooms the library could be just as fun. He lifted her up while she mellowed him down. And it worked. She wanted to make it work with him. And it did, for two whole years. Until now.

Madeleine wracked her brain, trying to figure out what changed. Was it because she graduated a semester early? Maybe because she wasn’t there on campus with him, maybe that caused the spark to die.

But as soon as that thought passes through her mind, she scoffs. It wasn’t her responsibility to stay attached to Logan’s side to make sure he didn’t cheat. Not cheating on your partner was just the bare minimum in any relationship.

Madeleine instead just sighs, shaking her head as she turns off shower, wringing the water from her hair before stepping out.

Whatever the reason, or whatever bullshit excuse that Logan may try to give her, she was done. If the women in her life, the women she grew up around had taught her anything, it was to never cut yourself down in order to fit into a situation where you didn’t belong.

Madeleine wraps herself in her fluffy white robe before padding into the kitchen and pouring herself a hefty glass of red wine before pulling a pint of her emergency ice cream out of the freezer and making her way back to the bedroom.

Grabbing her phone off the floor, her eyes scan over the texts and missed calls from Logan, ignoring every single one of them as she unlocks the phone. Instead, she crawls back into her bed, throwing on her comfort movie and debates calling her mom or one of her friends to rant to them.

After a brief contemplation, she decides against it. Things still felt too fresh, so much so that she couldn’t even begin to unravel her own emotions, let alone try and explain them to someone else.

So instead, Madeleine opens her Instagram and posts a photo of her wine glass and ice cream onto her stories, just to put some sort of explanation out there before placing the phone facedown on her nightstand and turning her attention elsewhere.

She’s about halfway through the first season of the original 1969 Scooby-Doo when she hears her phone buzz. Madeleine picks it up to look at whatever notification came in. And is slightly shocked to see the words within the banner blazed across her screen.

Instagram: josty17 sent you a message

Tyson. Madeleine hadn’t talked to him in ages, not since he left their shared small hometown to chase his dreams of playing professional hockey.

Curiosity gets the better of her and before Madeleine can register what her hands are doing, she has opened the app and clicked on his message.

josty17: rough day?

Her fingers type off a quick response before she can really overthink why she was entertaining this conversation with someone she hadn’t seen in almost five years.

madsmurph: You have no idea.

Part of Madeleine thought that might be the end of it. If she really thought about it, a picture of a full glass of wine and a pint of ice cream would raise concern, or at the very least some questions.

But since Tyson wasn’t a part of her life anymore, Madeleine figures that this one question and her vague explanation would most likely be the end of it.

Until her phone buzzes again with another message.

josty17: need a distraction?

madsmurph: Please tell me you’re not trying to pick me up Tyson Jost. madsmurph: I sometimes talk to Kacey and she’d be mortified about you sliding into my DM’s.

josty17: fuck. i just realized how that sounded josty17: that’s not what I meant josty17: please don’t tell Kacey

Madeleine can’t stop the slight snort of laughter that escapes her, the first happy sound she made this day, at the panic in Tyson’s rapid messaging. She quickly assuages his fears by typing out her response.

madsmurph: I won’t. I promise. madsmurph: What’s the distraction?

josty17: the Avs, the hockey team I play for, we’re in Calgary tomorrow night for the playoffs josty17: i have an extra ticket if you want to come and watch the game

The offer on her screen gives her pause. Why was he offering her this? Again, they hadn’t spoken in years. And yes, while she didn’t hold any resentment towards him or felt like their friendship ended poorly… this wasn’t something that you offered your childhood best friend that you lost contact with years ago.

madsmurph: I wouldn’t want to intrude…

She watches as the dots that indicate Tyson’s imminent response appear and for some reason, her heartbeat increases the more those circles bounce on her screen. And when Tyson’s message appears, her heart doesn’t settle like she would’ve expected it to.

Instead, it leaps.

josty17: you aren’t. my family couldn’t make it and josty17: it’d be nice to have someone cheering for me in the stands.

A small smile tugs at her lips. This was the Tyson that she remembered; the sweetest person she knew. And now, here he was again, messaging her on one of her worst days. As if he could tell she needed someone so she wouldn’t be alone in her sadness.

Tyson was doing this, without prompting, without demanding an answer. All he asked in return was for Madeleine to support him as well, albeit in a slightly different capacity.

How could she refuse?

madsmurph: Okay Josty. I’ll come.

josty17: awesome! maybe after the game we can hang out and catch up

madsmurph: You don’t have to go straight back to Colorado?

josty17: not if we win

madsmurph: Well then, you better win.

josty17: missed me that much? 😜

The question was rhetorical, comical. So reminiscent of the texts Tyson used to send her almost every day back when they were two stupid kids trying to figure out their lives.

Madeleine knew she didn’t need to give him an answer. And she didn’t.

But her still wounded heart spoke, the truth reverberating around her ribcage:

More than you know.

The game was fun. A lot of fun. Despite the fact that she didn’t know much about the Avalanche, she was happy to see them pull out a victory and see all the players, Tyson included, celebrate over the fact that they were moving on in the playoffs. She celebrated with them, albeit maybe in a silent way because she wasn’t that confident rooting for the opposing team in a sea of red and yellow. And even though Madeleine ended up attending the game alone despite Tyson’s offer for her to bring a friend – after all, he had two tickets, one for his mom and one for Kacey – she enjoyed herself. She hadn’t been to a hockey game since she last travelled down to watch Tyson play in Penticton when he was in juniors.

It felt like fate brought her back to watch him play again.

Madeleine’s hand reaches into her coat pocket, fingers tracing over her phone case as she looks around, watching the last of the Calgary fans disperse. She taps her nails on the screen, the quiet beat calming her for a moment before she pulls the phone out, the screen lighting up the darkness.

After typing in her passcode, she is thrown back to the Instagram direct messages between her and Tyson.

madsmurph: Congrats on the win!!

josty17: thanks! i’ll meet you outside after?

madsmurph: Sure. Where?

josty17: um… josty17: how about by the box office? josty17: since I know where that is

madsmurph: Sounds good. I’ll be there.

Her last message was sent almost 30 minutes ago. She told herself that it was nothing to be concerned about; after all, she had no clue what the process was for professional hockey players after a game, let alone a series clinching playoff game.

Still, based on the last 24-hours, the newfound fearful part of Madeleine had evidence to now use its voice – a voice that was getting louder by the minute.

Shush, she sharply silenced the anxiety. This is Tyson. He’d never be that intentionally cruel. Especially after everything he’s done so far.

Madeleine refocuses on the phone in front of her, deciding to mindlessly browse while she continues to wait. She was about halfway through re-reading an email from her job about the new way patrons can reserve meeting rooms when a familiar voice breaks through the quiet.

“Maddie?”

She looks up to see Tyson standing a few steps away from her, clad in his now tousled gameday suit and tan trench coat.

Even in the dim light, she can see the head of chocolate curls that she used to braid when she was bored and Tyson was patient enough. She could also make out the recognizable shape of his face, although the angles of his jaw and cheek seemed more defined than she remembered.

Tyson is still staring at her, his own eyes following a similar path as he takes in the familiar and yet new shape of Madeleine. She quickly shoves her phone back in her pocket before fully turning towards him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“No one calls me Maddie anymore.”

Those casual yet comfortable words are enough to snap Tyson out of the trance he was caught in and Madeleine can see that adorable crooked grin break out on his face before he is jogging over to her, closing the distance between them.

And before she can react, Tyson is scooping her up in his arms, engulfing her in a giant hug. Madeleine can’t stop the giggle that escapes as her arms are instinctively thrown over Tyson’s (surprisingly broad) shoulders as he squeezes her tightly, the fresh scent of the body wash he used flooding her senses.

It is a moment before Tyson releases her and takes a step back and now Madeleine can see his deep brown irises reflecting the shine of the streetlights. She watches as his eyes bounce around her face and frame, taking in the sight of her after three years.

“Well hello to you too,” she laughs, pulling his attention back to her.

“Sorry,” he says, his hand coming to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck, “Must still be a little high off the win. It’s also just really good to see you.”

Madeleine smiles again, ducking her head down as the intensity of Tyson’s stare and the sincerity of his words makes her falter. She quickly composes herself before returning his gaze.

“So, what do you want to do? Any place you want to go?”

“I don’t really know much of what’s around here. Thought a true Calgary native could show me around,” Tyson says, his eyes still sparkling down at her.

“I’ve only been here for three years. I wouldn’t call myself a native.”

“You still more know than me.”

“Well, that’s nothing new,” Madeleine jokes and Tyson can’t stop from dramatically placing his hand on his chest in false offense, to which Madeleine laughs at his reaction.

“Rude – but true,” Tyson replies, his easy-going energy returning quickly. “Regardless, wherever you want to go and whatever you want to show me, I’m down for.”

“Well, there’s not much open this late. But there is this bar nearby that’s pretty good. Let’s go there.”

Tyson gives Madeleine a small nod in approval before turning out to face the night. Unfortunately, he turns the wrong way, causing another bought of giggle to escape Madeleine. She reaches out and gently grasps one of his elbows, spinning him around before falling in to place next to him, gently nudging Tyson’s arm with her shoulder.

“Hey,” she says, “it’s really good to see you too.”

She sees the sweet expression on Tyson’s face as he grins down at her again and before they know it, they fall into step next to each other as they silently make their way down the Calgary streets. The walk to the bar is quiet, but Madeleine doesn’t mind. It was nice to have a moment for her to calm down, collect her thoughts. Tyson was probably still decompressing from the game. The silence between the two of them wasn’t horrible.

In fact, it was comfortable. Which was… odd to Madeleine. She half-expected her and Tyson’s reunion to be awkward, stunted. That was a fair assumption, one that most people would share.

But here, walking down the Calgary streets with simply the presence of Tyson beside her… it was easy.

Eventually, they get to the bar and after finding an empty spot and ordering their respective drinks, Tyson and Madeleine settle down into the pair of chairs in the corner, coats flung over the back and glasses in hand.

“You should’ve let me buy your drink.”

“Tyson, I have money. Besides, you already gave me tickets to a playoff hockey game for free. I don’t need to be in your debt anymore than I already am,” Madeleine laughs, taking a sip of her beer.

“Oh, you’re in my debt now, are you?” Tyson questions, the teasing lift in his voice causing Madeleine to laugh once again.

“You didn’t realize that?” she replies, the smile on her face genuine. The words were presented as a joke but, if she really thought down to the truth of it, Madeleine didn’t think she could ever thank enough Tyson for popping back in her life. Even if this all ended tonight, even if they both went back to their respective lives and didn’t talk again, this moment was just what Madeleine needed.

Tyson takes a swig of his own beer, looking around the bar for a moment before his eyes connect back to Madeleine.

“So, Maddie –”

“I told you, no one calls me Maddie anymore. Only little kids are allowed to call me that,” Madeleine explains.

“Well, we were kids when we met, so do you think I could get a pass.”

“Sorry Josty, no special treatment.”

“Alright. Then you can’t call me Josty. I think it’s only fair,” Tyson challenges.

“Fine… Tyson.”

“Madeleine.”

There is a pause, both of them just staring at the other with matching grins on their faces. This reminded Madeleine of their friendship when they were kids; light-hearted, teasing, and never once leaving each other’s company without smiling perhaps a little too much. Madeleine keeps her eyes on Tyson, watching as his mischievous grin softens into something so genuine it makes her heart ache.

“How have you been?”

“Eh,” she shrugs, finally breaking eye contact. “Pretty good. Some days worse than others. A lot worse,” she adds under her breath with a scoff, hoping it gets lost in the noise. But Tyson, ever observant, notices.

“Yesterday?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Are you alright?”

“I will be,” Madeleine replies, the heavy emotions slowly creeping in. She gives herself a little shake, pushing back against them before glancing back towards Tyson, his eyes still locked on her. “This is helping.”

Tyson’s face lights up at her words and Madeleine once again can’t stop her heart from fluttering.

“So, Tyson, how have you been? How’s the NHL life treating you?”

“It’s been good. I mean, the first time I started playing with Colorado – not full season but the first season I played a professional game – was a little rough. We weren’t good. Team finished the season with only 48 points so, it was kind of tough overall.”

“But you got to play.”

“Yeah. I got my first goal that year as well. My grandpa was at that game, oh you should’ve seen his reaction,” Tyson laughs, the smile on his face just growing wider. Madeleine also smiles, knowing Grandpa Jost well enough that she could easily picture his face and imagine how proud he must have been to see that in person.

“And now look at you: in just two years, your team is going into the second round of the playoffs. Pretty good comeback.”

“It’ll be an even greater comeback if we win the whole thing.”

“Well, you know I’ll be cheering for you,” Madeleine replies, causing Tyson to lift an eyebrow.

“Oh? Did I just convert a Calgary native to becoming a Colorado Avalanche fan?”

“First off, we’ve established that I’m not a native. And secondly, I haven’t really watched a lot of hockey in the past few years so I wouldn’t say you converted me; you just happened to renew my interest.”

“You haven’t watched hockey?” Tyson asks and Madeleine know that his mind is playing back memories from their shared childhood – a lot of which involved ice skating rinks and rubber pucks and cold metal bleacher seats. “Why?”

Madeleine shrugs again, attempting to deflect the question before finally admitting the truth:

“It just felt weird going to a game where you weren’t on the ice.”

Those words cause Tyson’s smile to come back in full force, his sparkling eyes locked on Madeleine and she can feel her cheeks heating up underneath his stare. If he asked about her blush, she would absolutely lie and blame the warmth of the bar, the alcohol, anything else for her reaction. Thankfully, Tyson doesn’t push and instead moves the conversation to her.

“So, what have you been doing in all of your ‘not-watching-hockey’ free time?”

“Well, school for the most part. Technically, I graduated in December but I’m sticking around to walk with everyone else in a few weeks.”

“You already graduated?” Tyson asks, to which Madeleine hums a quick affirmative. Tyson lets out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. “Damn, I forgot how smart you are.”

“Please, I honestly just worked really hard. Like you, I suppose. You had hockey, I had school.”

“So, what are you doing now?”

“I’m working at the Central Library. It’s actually not too far from here. And it’s a really nice place to work; I love it so much.”

“Is this where the small children, who are the only ones that get to call you Maddie, come from?”

“Tyson,” Madeleine says with false admonishment. “I thought your mother already gave you the talk – about where babies come from.”

Now it is Tyson’s turn for his cheeks to flare red, causing a cackle of a laugh to escape from Madeleine.

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“I know,” she says in between giggles. “Yes, that’s where I interact with the kiddos. They are absolutely adorable. And I get to be the one that gets them interested in reading which is just one of the best feelings in the world.”

“Is that what you’re thinking about doing for your career?”

“Perhaps – it’s a reasonable path considering my degree but I’m not sure if I’ll stay in local libraries. I might try to work my way up to bigger libraries or maybe university or even governmental libraries. Something on along those lines.”

“That’s really cool, Madeleine.”

“Thanks, Tyson,” she replies, taking another small sip of her beer. “That’s mostly it for me though. Not a whole lot going on. Now it’s your turn to tell me more: about Denver, about your teammates, everything.”

Tyson sighs and relaxes back into his seat, his eyes upward as he thinks about all that’s happened in the years since his draft. Madeleine eagerly leans forwards, her elbows resting on her knees and her chin propped in her hands.

“Gosh, where do I start?”

The night goes on with Tyson telling her all the stories he could think of, from his first games to how he had bounced up and down with the Avalanche and the AHL since he was drafted, some injuries that prevented him from playing as much as he wanted, and how he just now felt like he has a steady roster spot and how hard he worked for that opportunity. But within all of the hardships, he also mentioned all of the great and funny memories he’s had with the team. Madeleine intersperses the conversation with stories of her own, about her friends at school, nights out that she wishes she could remember and some nights out that she wishes she could forget, and her new life there in Calgary. The two of them also catch each other up on their respective families, although there isn’t much to say considering that their parents have still kept in touch and Madeleine has talked to Kacey a few times before tonight.

“You’ve talked to my sister more than you’ve talked to me?”

“She’s quickly becoming my favorite Jost. You have some catching up to do.”

The stories continue as the night moves on and before Madeleine even knows it, it’s close to midnight. And even though she has work tomorrow, she doesn’t really care. She’s happy and relaxed and being here with Tyson, laughing and talking, was more than she could’ve hoped for. It felt good. She felt good. Nothing could take that away from her.

Or at least, that’s what she thought.

Tyson is halfway though telling a story about how the Avalanche, along with his friend and fellow rookie JT, gave him those cool colorblind correcting glasses and how he was freaking out over JT’s firey ginger hair when Madeleine hears someone call out over the crowd.

“MADDIE!”

She recognizes the voice, although she wishes that she didn’t. There was no logical explanation as to why he was there. There was no way he was at the game and the bar is a good distance away from campus and his apartment. There was no reason he should be here.

But here comes Logan, weaving through the crowd towards her and Tyson. Madeleine can tell that he has had a few too many drinks and that makes her nervous when coupled with the angry look painting his features.

Tyson hears him as well as Logan continues to call out her name, quickly locating the source of the noise. Tyson looks back at Madeleine with a confused expression which shifts when he sees Madeleine’s face.

“Who’s that?” he asks. Madeleine just shakes her head, her hands quickly moving in an attempt to grab her stuff.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she says, her hands still moving frantically. Tyson nods his head, starting to grab his own coat. But neither of them are fast enough and it’s only a matter of seconds before Logan is standing in front of their chairs.

“What the fuck Maddie?” Logan practically spits, staring down at her with such malice; more than he honestly was entitled to.

“Logan –”

“No. You don’t return any of my calls, you completely cut me off without much of an explanation. And now I have to see you out here, giggling and getting all fucking cozy with some random guy?”

“You know exactly why I haven’t talked to you,” Maddie snaps, bringing her own anger into her voice, the suppressed emotions finally rising after being pushed down.

“Oh, fuck off Maddie.”

“Woah,” Tyson says, jumping in from his spot off to the side. “Dude, calm down.”

“No, shut the fuck up man,” Logan spins on Tyson. “This doesn’t fucking concern you.”

“I don’t give a shit – you don’t get to talk to her like that,” Tyson replies, raising his body up in his chair, not wanting to escalate the situation any more but making it clear that he was going to continue to defend Madeleine.  

“I can talk to my girlfriend any way I want to,” Logan retorts, his words causing Tyson’s posture to retreat a little as he looks back towards Maddie with a question painted on his features. Madeleine shakes her head before looking back at Logan.

“Your ex-girlfriend, if you couldn’t remember Logan.”

Madeleine’s voice pulls Logan’s attention back to her. He scoffs, crossing his arms in front of him and glaring down at her.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Don’t act all high and mighty, Maddie. It obviously didn’t affect you that much. You’ve clearly moved on – pretty quickly might I add. How’d that happen? Unless you were seeing him on the side as well. Why are you so mad at me then, when by the looks of it, you were doing the same.”

Madeleine’s jaw drops at Logan’s insinuation. Was he actually accusing her of cheating on him? Really? Her head is reeling so much that she can’t even think of a reply and she can see that Logan takes her silence as some form of agreement, a smug smirk coming across his face. Tyson, who was still trying to follow the conversation decides to speak up once more.

“Wait, we’re not together. We’re just old friends,” he attempts to explain but just the sound of his voice causes Logan’s face to harden before he’s turning on Tyson again.

“I told you, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Well, you’re bringing me into it so, yeah it does concern me.”

“Oh okay, fine, you want to be a part of this?” Logan asks, taking a threatening step towards Tyson, his hands clenched in fists.

“Logan, stop it,” Madeleine attempts but her voice is lost in the rising tensions.

“Gladly if you continue to shout at my friend and accuse her of things that she would never do,” Tyson says, finally lifting himself out of his chair, coming face to face with Logan.

Madeleine had never seen Tyson like this before. She knew hockey was a tough sport, a heavy physical sport that involved a lot of hits and a fair share of fighting. But Tyson wasn’t that type of player. And if he needed to be, it was always on the ice. Off-ice, he was his sweet, kind, genuine, goofy self.

But there he was, standing tall and strong in front of Logan, his body language screaming that he wasn’t going to back down and that he could – and would – fight if Logan decided to throw the first punch.

All for her.

There is a pause, the tensions high and tight until Madeleine sees a movement out of the corner of her eyes before a burly security guard appears in her line of vision, coming to stand right next to Tyson and Logan.

“Hey boys, break it up or take it outside,” he says, standing with his own arms crossed in front of his chest, waiting to see what happens and ready to break it up if this did come to blows. Madeleine finishes throwing on her coat and slings her purse over her shoulder before tentatively reaching out to touch Tyson’s arm.

“Tyson, please, let’s just leave,” she says, her voice soft. “Please.”

Tyson’s eyes flick over to her, his gaze softening before giving the barest of nods. After shooting one last glare over towards Logan, he throws on his own coat. Madeleine doesn’t wait for Tyson, starting to move towards the exit as soon as Tyson gave his approval, wanting to leave immediately. She can feel Tyson close on her heels and trusts that he is still behind her. She didn’t want to look back though; looking back meant looking at Logan as well. She just wanted to leave him and this now ruined night in the past.

Madeleine thinks that she is safe and in the clear as her hands land on the exit door. But she doesn’t flee in enough time to not hear Logan call out again. Except this time, his words are directed towards Tyson.

“Hey, enjoy her buddy. And good fucking luck. She’s hot piece of ass but that’s about all she’s got going for her.”

His words sting, more than Madeleine would care to admit. He shouldn’t be able to do that, to make her feel like this after everything that he put her through. But somehow, he still affects her and because of that, she doesn’t react to the biting April chill as she pushed into the night. She doesn’t really register anything except the tears welling in her eyes, not even Tyson yelling her name from behind her.

“Hey! Madeleine. Wait!” he calls until he eventually catches up to her, his hand landing on her shoulder, forcing her to spin to face him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lies, trying to push back her tears. It almost works until one drop betrays her and falls down her cheek. Tyson notices and Madeleine can feel his eyes locked onto the trail of wetness the tear leaves on her skin. Without even thinking, Tyson reaches out, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing away the tear before immediately pulling her into a hug. Madeleine has to stop herself from breaking down again as she feels his arms wrapped tightly around her. She nestles herself closer into his chest as he gently rocks her body back and forth, murmuring into her hair.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Madeleine lets Tyson hold her, allowing herself time to take a few deep breaths, calming herself. Eventually, she untangles herself from Tyson’s arms and takes a few steps back. Tyson doesn’t let her get far though, his hands still gently holding her upper arms, keeping her close. He waits silently until she looks back up at him before he speaks again.

“Can I ask what that was all about?”

“That was my ex. Logan,” Madeleine explains softly. “He cheated on me. For months, I think. And I didn’t even realize it until yesterday. When I caught him in bed with another woman.”

Madeleine looks up at Tyson, watching him slowly connect the dots, the realization washing over his face. Another surge of tears threatens to form and Madeleine pushes it down, sighing, the whirlwind of emotions that she experienced in the past 24-hours finally coming in in full force.

“I thought he might be the one. He was my longest relationship since… well, since you know when,” she sighs. “We were so different but I thought that’s what made us work. That that made us stronger. Y’know, opposites attract, if you can work through your differences you can work through anything, all that bullshit.”

Another sigh escapes Madeleine as she finally breaks Tyson’s hold to turn away from him, staring into the night.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see him ever again.”

The silence that stretches between them is lengthy, heavy. Nothing like the silence earlier in the night, on the walk to the bar. Finally, the quiet is effectively shattered by Tyson.

“Move to Colorado with me.”

Madeleine spins around, her expression transforming into one of absolute bewilderment.

“What?”

“Move to Colorado. That way you can make sure you’ll never see him again.”

“Um, are you okay?” Madeleine asks. “Did you have that much to drink?”

“I’m serious,” Tyson says, doubling down on his suggestion.

“Wow, Tyson, I’m now starting to think that you really are trying pick me up.”

“Ha-ha very funny,” Tyson replies, his own expression softening to shoot Madeleine a joking smile. It doesn’t last long and soon his face returns to that serious look, although perhaps a tad gentler than before. “I mean it though. You should move to a new place, a new city. Get a fresh start.”

“Well, that’s a little dramatic. Moving cities to get away from a shitty ex-boyfriend.”

“It’s not just the boyfriend, Madeleine. I know I brought up Logan but that’s because it was a decent reason. But it’s more than that. You deserve better than this. You’re insanely smart, talented, hard-working. Calgary, it’s a great city but is this really where you want to spend the rest of your life?”

“Okay, but… even if I did want to move, I can’t just abandon everything on a whim. I have a life here, I have a job, friends. And despite all of that, you want me to move to your city, your state? On some vague hope that something better might be waiting for me. What’s waiting for me in Colorado?”

There is a pause, the two of them just facing each other. It feels like a stand-off; feels like they are each daring the other to show their hand, lay all their cards on the table.

It feels like the weight of everything still left unsaid.

Tyson is the first to back down, his body language softening as a sigh escapes from his chest.

“Just… think about it, okay? It doesn’t have to be Colorado. I just want to see you happy, whatever that means and wherever that ends up being.”

Another pause, the two of them just waiting once more until Madeleine relaxes as well, giving Tyson a small nod in concession.

“Is it alright if I walk you home?”

Madeleine nods again and her and Tyson fall into step together, walking side by side towards her place. The silence between them continues until Tyson, once again, is the one to break it.

“Hey, I did have a really good time tonight.”

“Besides the whole almost getting into a fight with my ex-boyfriend part?”

“Nah, that added some excitement,” Tyson says and Madeleine looks over towards him in surprise to spy that goofy teasing grin on his face. She giggles, still partially amazed that Tyson is the only one who can manage to pull that genuine laugher from her with such ease, even after all these years.

“You’re an ass,” she says, knocking her body into his, causing him to laugh in turn.

“Yeah, I know. But that’s one of the things that you like about me.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Josty.”

“Hey, it’s Tyson, remember? Madeleine.”  

~~~~~

email from [email protected] to [email protected] on April 24th, 2019

Hey, apparently there’s a research librarian job in Ottawa. You can work for Canadian Government!

email from [email protected] to [email protected] on May 29th, 2019

Scrolling through jobs again and saw an archivist job in Michigan (Whatever an archivist means. Apparently it has something to do with libraries. Just promise that you won’t become a Red Wings fan.) 

email from [email protected] to [email protected] on June 26th, 2019

Hey, saw this and thought I’d send it your way, if you were interested. 

~~~~~