I wished that moment of panic hadn’t set in—where the cold fear painted images of him tossing me to the curb since he’d finally gotten a taste of what he’d never had before. The fear of being left with a life without Lettie…without him, shook me to the core.

I knew Gage better than that, of course. We’d been friends for too long and we’d connected on a deeper level…several times that night, for him to do that to me. Perhaps it was because I’d had a front row seat to the bunny parade, but when I’d woken up alone in his bed, and sat there wondering how many others had gone before me…I couldn’t keep the evil thoughts at bay.

Smack! A rogue shot hit the boards in front of us, successfully drawing me back to the present. Lettie flinched in my arms but nothing compared to the jump I’d had. This game—knowing that it was Adkins out there against Gage—had me on edge and I felt like a coiled spring ready to pop.

Gage shredded the ice, checking a player against the boards so hard he dropped his stick, giving Rory the opening to take aim at the goalie.

Normally I wouldn’t have so much as looked at the other players, but today I couldn’t keep my eyes off number seventeen on the opposing team—Adkins. The blood flushing my skin boiled every time he skated within an inch of Gage—the image of the day he’d been injured flashing on repeat in my mind like a bad replay on ESPN. I’d been there, home for Thanksgiving, holding Lettie’s tiny hand while I sat Gage’s mom, watching in horror as they’d carried him off the ice. Add to that the recovery, the hurt both physically and emotionally he’d had to deal with during that time, and I was ready to pass Lettie off to Grammy who sat next to us, breach the ice, and shove Adkins’ stick up his ass for all the wrong he’d done.

Instead, I took deep, steadying breaths. Adkins had played nice this entire game, and Gage didn’t need me to fight his battles for him, but, by his own admission, he did need me. And that had made me happier than I knew was possible.

Rory controlled the puck again, gliding on the ice quick as lightning, and shot. The puck flew past the goalie and sunk into the net behind him, bringing the Sharks in the lead 2-1.

“Whoohoo! Uncle Rory!” Lettie clapped, grinning from ear to ear as she looked from the ice and back to me. I rubbed her back, cheering with her until the smile slipped from her face.

“Lettie, baby what’s wrong?” I asked, following her gaze behind me.

Bitch. Now my nerves sizzled. “Helen,” I whispered as I set eyes on the undeniably gorgeous blonde. She was taking the benches one at a time, navigating to the Shark-dominated side to get to us. Her progression was slow, due to the ridiculous stilettos she wore that made my French-Maid costume ones look like kitten heels. The thought took me back to the near-lethal birthday present she’d tried to give Lettie, and I found myself kissing Lettie’s forehead without thinking.

“How about you show Grammy where we get the hot chocolate?” I asked her, looking at Sue who had zeroed in on Helen as well. Lettie nodded quickly, hugging my neck before grabbing Grammy’s hand and tugging her toward the concessions outside of the rink.

I clutched my hands into fists and kept my eyes on the ice, forcing myself to breathe.

“You didn’t have to send her running, Bailey.” Helen’s voice was a razor on an exposed nerve.

I cut my eyes away from Gage, skating ahead of an opponent to gain the upper position. “Shouldn’t you be on the other side?” I pointed to the sea of white and red. “Supporting your husband?”

She sank down beside me, her heels clicking against the metal. “I can see him just fine from here.”

“What do you want, Helen?” I had no time to play games with this woman. The same woman who had somehow walked away from the only man I’d ever loved and simultaneously abandoned the most incredible little girl I’d ever met.

“Meow. I haven’t been here two seconds and you’re already catty?”

“You must bring it out in people.”

She shook her head, flipping her silky blonde hair over her shoulder.

“You’re right.” I sighed, rethinking my actions. If not for this woman, Lettie would not exist. I would try and remember that every time she opened her gold-digging mouth. “Are you here to return the papers you took from Gage? Because that would be really big of you, and I’d be more than happy to sing your graces to him after we kick the shit out of Ontario.”

She sucked her teeth and snorted out a laugh. “Oh, Bailey, I’m sure there are plenty of things you’d be happy to do to Gage after the game.”

Heat flushed my cheeks and I sharpened my gaze on where Adkins skated just a little too close to Gage for my comfort. I could be the better woman here. I didn’t need to get nasty, or insecure. Be the better woman.

“Not that I blame you. I mean, I’ve been there…or rather, he’s been here.”

I glanced at her where she held her hand against her chest and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She knew nothing of love. Gage had never been a part of her heart, and Lettie damn sure wasn’t either.

“Of course, I managed to earn his attention much faster than you did. I mean, honestly, what did it take…twenty years for him to see you as anything other than an annoying little girl? A sexless friend?”

I swallowed hard, my breath hitching as Gage got entangled against the boards with another player.

“Same old Gage. He lives for that tight pressure against the boards. You know, if I remember correctly, that’s how we got Scarlett.”

Bile rose in the back of my throat—not at the image she painted, though that soured my stomach for sure—but at her use of the word we. “Funny, I don’t remember Scarlett ever truly belonging to you.”

“I’m her mother.” She scoffed.

“What’s her favorite movie?” I held her gaze, challenging her.

“Frozen?”

I shook my head. “You’re only her mother in name. You have no clue who she is, what makes her laugh, cry, sing, or settle down. You didn’t even know that cat you brought could have killed her. Come on, Helen. Admit it. You didn’t want her then, and you don’t want her now. You’re only doing this because you get some sort of sick pleasure torturing Gage.”

“You’ll never replace me.”