Chapter 5 The Man Who Showed Up (TYLER)

The nightmares start that night.

Same one I’ve had for three years, only worse now. Diego’s car, twisted metal wrapped around the guardrail, glass everywhere. The drunk driver standing on the shoulder, unsteady but alive, staring at the wreck like it’s not his fault. Like it’s just something that happened.

Only this time, when I reach the car, it’s not Diego inside.

It’s Danny Martinez.

His eyes are open. Unblinking. Fixed on me.

He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t cry. He just asks, calmly, why I didn’t stop it. Why did I hit him? Why do I always hit people? Why do I never learn?

I wake up at four a.m., drenched in sweat, heart pounding so hard it hurts. My sheets are tangled around my legs, and my chest is tight like something heavy is sitting on it. For a few seconds, I don’t know where I am. Then the ceiling comes into focus. My bedroom. My life. My guilt.

I don’t try to go back to sleep.

I can’t even lie there.

So I do what I always do when the guilt gets too loud.

I go to the gym.

Lights dimmed, the building echoing in a way it never does during game days. No music. No crowd noise. Just me, the ice, and the ghosts I’m trying to outrun.

I suit up on autopilot. Laces tight. Gloves on. Stick in hand.

The moment my skates hit the ice, I push off hard. Fast laps. Tight turns. Hard stops. I skate until my legs burn and my lungs ache and my thoughts narrow down to one thing: breathe in, breathe out. No room for Diego. No room for Danny. No room for Sofia Martinez’s eyes to cut straight through me.

An hour passes before I realize I’m not alone.

“Figured you’d be here.”

Carter’s voice carries across the rink. He’s leaning against the boards, arms crossed, already in skates despite wearing street clothes. Trust him to show up like this, calm and unannounced, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

I don’t stop skating. “Don’t you have a wife to wake up next to?”

“She kicked me out of bed when I wouldn’t stop checking my phone to see if you’d called.” He pushes onto the ice, steady and effortless. “You going to tell me why you’re here at five in the morning?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?”

I ignore him and cut across the rink harder than necessary.

“Tyler,” he says, skating closer. “I know that look. You don’t sleep when the memories start replaying.”

“None of your business.”

He reaches out and catches my shoulder, forcing me to stop. “Talk to Avery. Please. Before this destroys you the way it almost destroyed me.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he says evenly. “You’re doing exactly what I did, trying to outskate the guilt. It doesn’t work. Trust me.”

He watches me for a beat, then adds, “Avery told me she called Sofia Martinez last night.”

My head snaps up. “Why?”

“Because I asked her to.” He doesn’t look away. “Someone needed to make sure Danny’s sister knew we’re covering the medical bills. And because” He hesitates. “Because I saw the way you looked at her in that waiting room, and I wanted to make sure this didn’t get more complicated than it already is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Carter folds his arms. “You looked at Sofia Martinez the same way I looked at Avery when I first met her. Like she was terrifying and fascinating and completely off-limits.”

I open my mouth, then shut it.

“And before you even think about going there,” he continues, “remember this: Avery was my therapist. The ethics alone almost destroyed us both. Sofia is your victim’s sister. That’s worse.”

“I’m not.” I stop. Can’t even finish the sentence.

Because he’s right.

I noticed Sofia Martinez in ways I shouldn’t have. Noticed her eyes, sharp and burning. Noticed her voice, steady even when she was falling apart. Noticed the way she held her daughter like the world might shatter if she loosened her grip.

Strength wrapped in fury. Wrapped in fear.

Noticed, and hated myself for it.

“Stay away from her,” Carter says. Not a suggestion. “Let Avery handle the medical stuff. You focus on hockey. On getting your head right. On not letting this ruin your career.”

“What if I don’t want a career built on hurting people?” The words are out before I can stop them.

Carter is quiet for a long moment.

“Then quit,” he says finally. “But don’t do it because of this one hit. Do it because you’ve found something better.”

“What if there is nothing better?” I ask. “What if this is all I’m good at?”

“Then find out. But not like this. Not by spiraling.”

He pushes off toward the boards. “Avery has an opening at ten. I told her you’d be there.”

And then he’s gone.

I stay on the ice until seven, skating until my body is numb and my thoughts are quiet. I shower, change, and sit in my truck in the parking lot staring at Avery’s office building across the street.

I should go in.

Should talk to her. Should do what Carter did and face my demons with professional help.

But professional help didn’t save Diego. It won’t bring back Danny Martinez’s career if it’s over. And it won’t make Sofia Martinez stop looking at me like I’m a monster.

I’m about to start the truck when my phone buzzes.

Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Rodriguez?” A man’s voice. Calm. Professional. “This is Dr. Keegan from Charlotte General. I’m calling about Daniel Martinez.”

My heart stops. “Is he?”

“He’s awake. Stable. And he’s asking to speak with you.”

The world tilts. “What?”

“I know this is unusual,” he says, “but Mr. Martinez was quite insistent. He’d like you to visit, if you’re willing.” A pause. “I should warn you, his sister is here. She may not be receptive to your presence.”

Sofia.

Of course she is.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Mr. Rodriguez,” he says gently, “I’ve been a trauma surgeon for fifteen years. I’ve seen athletes on both sides of career-altering injuries. If Danny Martinez wants to speak to you, it might help you both.” Another pause. “At least think about it.”

The call ends.

I sit there thinking about Diego. About going to his funeral alone because I’d pushed everyone else away. About carrying guilt like a second skin for three years.

About Sofia Martinez standing in a parking lot telling me to be better.

My phone buzzes again.

A text.

From Sofia.

Danny wants to see you. If you’re brave enough to face what you did, Charlotte General ICU. Room 412. Today at noon.

I’ll be there. So will Emma. Come correct, Rodriguez. Because if you hurt my brother again, even emotionally, I will destroy you.

I stare at the screen for a full minute.

Then I do something I haven’t done in three years.

I reply.

I’ll be there.

And I open my truck door, cross the street, and walk into Avery’s office to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to face the man whose life I might have just destroyed.