The season was over—at least for the Royals—and it was bittersweet.

I always did look forward to the time off after every season, because after working my body to its limit week in and week out during the season, having a handful of months off to recharge and simply relax always did wonders. However, this season, the vacation came earlier than I'd hoped.

Especially after the chaos these last couple of months had entailed.

I'd started the season off as a Knight, had worked my hardest to stay, and had still been traded. And while I'd thought I'd landed with an overall stronger team—the players meshed well together, the coaching staff was tough but fair, and our penalty kill was one of the highest rated in the league—I was now on the sidelines while my old team made a run for the cup.

And I was happy for my old teammates, I was, but I was also jealous. Because if things had been different, I could've been next to them on the ice, riding the playoffs out together.

Instead, I was in Los Angeles three days after our game six loss, cleaning out my locker until training camp started up again.

Having already thrown my equipment in the back of my truck, I was just grabbing the extra workout gear I'd stored at the rink and the junk that'd accumulated over the last two months.

"Hey," Ruderman said, clapping me on the back as he walked into the room. "How's it going?"

I lifted a shoulder, zipping up the duffle that I'd brought with me. "Could be better," I replied honestly. "How are you taking the loss?"

"It definitely sucks, but I also know there's nothing that we can do to change it. At least this season." He smiled encouragingly. "Next season though, man, we're going to work hard to get that cup."

"You know it," I agreed, and the two of us fist bumped.

"So, what are your plans for the off-season?" he asked, taking a seat on the bench next to my bag. "Seeing family? Sticking around? Heading back to the east coast?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Honestly, I haven't thought much about it. I'll probably go see my folks for a few weeks, but otherwise, I've got a place here, so it doesn't make sense to head back to Boston."

While a handful of guys had already booked their flights back to their home countries for the next couple of months, the rest were set to scatter across the states in the coming weeks. Ruderman and his wife, however, lived in the Los Angeles area full-time, and it seemed like me, him, and two or three other guys were the only ones planning to stick around.

He looked slightly shocked by my answer though, raising a brow. "You're not going to try to fix things with your girl?"

"Uh..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say. "I'm not sure there's much I can do."

"As long as you didn't cheat, which I know you didn't, there's always something you can do," he said. "I know you've been zeroed in on the season the last couple weeks, and I totally get it, but hockey's over now. And didn't you say she texted you after the loss?"

I had indeed.

The message that'd come through was just two simple words. I'm sorry. Yet those alone, with the added heart as punctuation had made me yearn to hold her.

But then the regret and embarrassment settled in, knowing I'd compartmentalized my life after the fight Lia and I had, and put my focus solely on hockey. I hadn't reached out to try and mend things, because I really hated the idea of not being able to do so in person. I didn't have the ability to hop over to Boston for a weekend, and I knew she didn't have time in her schedule to fly out here either, so I'd done nothing.

The fact that she'd also not tried to contact me had me thinking that maybe I'd made the right choice, but then her text had come through in the exact moment I'd wanted to hear from her, and suddenly, I felt like my choice was the wrong one.

And now I didn't know what to do.

"She did."

"That was an olive branch, man. The ball's in your court to fix things, and you have time off, so hop on a flight. Go get your woman."

I couldn't stop the way my lips twitched upward as I rolled my eyes. But truly, I was thankful for his advice. "Aren't you going to be lonely if I jet off to Boston?"

"I think I'll manage," he said with a chuckle.

After a moment, I sighed, raking my fingers through my hair. "You think she'll even talk to me after the silent treatment?"

"If she ever had true feelings for you, trust me man, she will."

She will. She will.

***

About an hour later, after I'd hit up a taco truck for lunch with Ruderman, I pushed through the front door of my condo with three bags full of hockey gear. Letting the two duffle bags full of workout clothes and under armour drop to the floor with a thud, knowing they definitely needed a wash, I rolled my equipment bag to the hall closet and tossed it inside.

After all, I wouldn't need it for the next couple of months.

Shutting the closet door, I sighed, once again hit with the melancholy feeling that went hand in hand with the end of the hockey season, but as I moved into the living room, I was also hit with an unexpected bout of loneliness.

Realizing that I was in a city where I knew next to nobody (except a few of my new teammates) for the next few months didn't sit well with me, and honestly, made me restless.

Almost as though he could tell I needed a friend, my cell rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket to see Nyberg's name flashing across the screen.

Sinking into my couch, I let my head fall back against the cushions with a groan and answered the phone.

"As much as I love you as a friend, I really hope you didn't just answer the phone while rubbing one out," was the first thing Nyberg said.

I snorted. "Not likely. I don't need your ugly mug in my head while I'm doing that."

"Well, I figure that the long-distance thing must be tough on you. And now that you have a lot of time on your hands, maybe don't moan when answering the phone," he teased. "You don't want people to get the wrong idea."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said slowly, tapping my hand against the couch as I realized I hadn't told him about what was going on with Lia. Which meant that, apparently, I wasn't just a bad boyfriend from a distance, I also wasn't that good of a friend. Great. "But listen—"

"So, how are things with your team?" he asked at the same time, and I let him speak. "Is it the same kind of somber, after-season lull that happens over here?"

"Kind of," I replied, raking my fingers through my hair. "It's definitely the same routine. You know, a couple meetings about facility access during the off-season and preliminary plans for training camp. But I'm feeling better this year knowing the Royals are planning to keep me around. Last year, I spent most of my vacation waiting for the trade call."

"I remember. But that's good; you can relax and enjoy the time off."

"Yeah... wish I was still in the race for the Stanley Cup though."

"You guys will come back stronger in October."

"Says the guy still skating," I mused, and he chuckled. "I am rooting for you guys though."

"We definitely have a tough road ahead, but we'll see where we land. I'm hoping for June, but you never know." Spoken like a true player in the off-season, not wanting to jinx their chance at taking it all the way. "Be sure to let me know when you're back in Boston though. We gotta catch up."

And we were back to the elephant in the room.

"I'm actually on the fence about coming back to Boston," I admitted.

"What do you mean? Aren't you coming to visit Lia?"

"Um, we actually broke up," I said. "At least I think we did."

There was silence for a moment before a few curse words slipped from his mouth. "Why didn't you tell me, man? I wouldn't have mentioned her."

"It's fine, really."

"Clearly it's not," he said. "And what do you mean you think you broke up?"

"We had a fight a few weeks ago and haven't really spoken since."

"A few weeks ago?" he repeated, flabbergasted. "What the hell happened?"

Sighing, I spoke dejectedly as I recounted the events of the dreaded phone call. How sad and heartbroken Lia had sounded after Miles betrayed her. How she'd called me out for not being there for her. How I'd stupidly brought up the uncertainties surrounding the long-distance part of our relationship at the exact wrong time. And then how things had fallen apart from there.

Nyberg whistled incredulously once I finally finished. "Wow. And you guys haven't talked since?"

"No, not besides a text she sent after we got kicked out of the playoffs" I replied. "At first, I didn't know what to say, and then I figured if she wanted to talk, she'd reach out, so I focused on hockey." A dry laugh left my lips. "Though a lot of good that did."

"I hope you don't hate me for saying this, but while I get where you were coming from, you definitely should've reached out after giving her a day or two to cool down."

"Yeah," I trailed off, groaning inwardly as I dragged a hand down my face. "I know I messed up."

My heart and mind had raged against one another in the days following the fight, but unfortunately, the latter had unfairly won out. I figured I could only do so much from the west coast, that the Royals needed my undivided attention, and more importantly, because it had stung as one day turned to two and two day turned to two weeks without hearing a word from Lia.

"I mean, imagine if what'd happened to her had happened to you. I don't think you'd exactly be in the right frame of mind."

And dammit, he had a point.

"Ruderman suggested I call her and try to clear the air, but what do you think I should do?"

"Smart guy," he remarked, "but you shouldn't be taking advice from others, man. You just need to ask yourself what you want to do."

I exhaled slowly. "I want to fix things, because dude, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her."

"Then maybe don't try to mend things over the phone, considering your last conversation went downhill that way," he suggested before pausing. "Look, the Knights are heading on the road to start the second round of the playoffs tomorrow afternoon, and we'll be gone for four days. And you're on vacation, so, if you really think there's something between you and Lia worth salvaging, then maybe this is the time to come back and see if you guys can make it work. Feel free to squat at mine for a few days too if you need to figure out how to make your move."

Everything inside of me was screaming to take the advice. To go. Yet the one thing holding me back was the embarrassment I felt about how I'd handled this whole situation. Because everyone knew that love was a gamble—that there was no guarantee you'd win—but I hadn't just lost. I'd taken myself out of the game.

But I couldn't let that hold me back. I needed to apologize and get over my doubts about long-distance. I needed to fight for Lia.

Plus, remembering that she was set to present her defense to her department in just two days' time, I knew just the way to do so.

"Nyberg, I might just take you up on that."

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