Chapter 4 Meet Again

Bonnie

Mael stands frozen, his hand locked onto the edge of his gym bag as Coach Adriane’s threat hangs in the air. 

“You wouldn’t,” Mael grinds out through his teeth, glaring at his uncle.

“Try me,” Coach Adriane replies with a cold gaze. “You have forty-eight hours to get over yourself, Mael. Be on the ice at six AM on Monday with Bonnie, or your spot at Nationals goes to the next team on the roster. We don't have time for your childish grudges.”

Mael’s gaze rips back to me. His cold blue eyes sweep over my face, taking in the way I hold my chin high while clutching Evan’s pendant against my chest. He can see I’m not backing down. Without another word, he shoves the double doors open and storms out of the lounge, slamming them so hard the frame rattles.

The thunderous crash echoes through the room, leaving behind a suffocating quiet. My knees feel like lead all of a sudden.

“Don’t mind him, Bonnie,” Coach Daniel says, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Mael is headstrong, but he’s a professional when it counts. He’ll be on that ice Monday morning.”

“He’s an arrogant prick, Coach,” I mutter, my chest tightening as I glare at the closed doors. “Five years haven’t changed him at all. He’s still the same spoiled brat who made Evan and me feel like trash.”

“He was raised in a pressure cooker,” Coach Adriane interjects, taking a few steps closer. “His father expects perfection, nothing less. But right now, you two need each other. You don't have to like each other, Bennett. You just have to skate together.”

I take a deep breath, pressing the silver pendant tighter against my collarbone. Coach Adriane is right. I can endure Mael’s miserable attitude if it means saving my family.

“I’ll be here Monday at six,” I say firmly, meeting Coach Adriane's gaze directly.

“Good. Daniel will show you to the athlete residence so you can get settled,” Coach Adriane says with a brief, approving nod.

Ten minutes later, I’m standing in a small but modern studio apartment inside the facility’s dorm complex. It has a single bed, a small desk, a kitchenette, and a window overlooking the practice grounds. It’s light-years away from the cramped, warm room above my grandma’s diner, but it feels hollow.

Once Uncle Dan leaves to wrap up the paperwork with the facility board, I drop my suitcase onto the hardwood floor and collapse onto the edge of the mattress.

I pull the silver pendant from around my neck and let it rest in my palm. Evan’s name is faintly engraved on the back, worn down from years of me rubbing it whenever anxiety threatened to choke me.

“What am I doing, Evan?” I whisper to the empty walls. “How am I supposed to let him throw me? How am I supposed to trust him?”

Just then, the sharp, loud buzz of my phone in my jeans pocket breaks the silence. I pull it out, and the caller ID immediately makes my heart lift for the first time all day.

I press the phone to my ear. "Jess?"

"Bonnie! Oh my god, Uncle Dan just told me you're actually here!" Jessie's frantic, energetic voice blasts through the speaker. "Tell me your room number right now. I'm literally sprinting across the dorm courtyard."

A soft laugh bubbles up in my throat—the first genuine smile I've had since stepping foot into this complex. "Room 304, third floor."

"Don't move a muscle!" She hangs up before I can even answer.

Less than three minutes later, a loud knock hits my door. I barely twist the handle open before a blur of platinum blonde hair and dark athletic wear crashes straight into me, wrapping her arms around my neck in a suffocating hug.

"I can't believe it's actually you!" Jessie squeals, pulling back to grab my shoulders and inspect my face. "Look at you! You haven't aged a single day, Bon!"

"Neither have you," I smile, taking in her sharp winged eyeliner and sleek athletic jacket. Jessie and I had been inseparable during our junior competitive years. Seeing her face gives me my first real breath of comfort in this foreign, overwhelming environment. "It's so good to see you, Jess."

"Okay, nope, we are not sitting in this gloomy dorm room," Jessie says, immediately taking my wrist and dragging me toward the door. "You look like you just survived a war, and knowing Mael Laurent, you probably did. There's a little sports bar two blocks off campus. We are getting a drink, and you are telling me everything.”

Ten minutes later, we're tucked into a high-top booth at a dimly lit bar down the street, two cold hard ciders resting on the coaster between us.

"So Mael called you a restaurant waitress?" Jessie gasps, setting her glass down with a hard clink. "God, he is such an insufferable ass! I swear, his ego expanded by fifty percent the moment Katie got sidelined."

"He hasn't changed at all," I sigh, swirling the liquid in my glass. "He still looks down on me like I'm dirt on his polished leather skates. I don't know how I'm going to throw myself into the air and trust him to catch me, Jess. Evan was the only one I ever trusted."

"It's going to be rough," Jessie admits softly, her expression softening with genuine sympathy. "But you're the strongest person I know, Bon. You survived five years. You can handle Mael."

I take a slow sip, looking across at her. Catching up on the lost years has been surreal—talking about my endless shifts at Grandma's restaurant, carrying heavy trays, and managing my mom's health, while Jessie kept pushing her own career forward on the elite circuit.

Suddenly, something dawns on me. My eyebrows furrow as I look around the booth.

"Wait... where's Benjamin?" I ask.

Jessie instantly freezes, her glass stopping halfway to her mouth.

"Benjamin?" I continue, searching her face. "You two started dating seven years ago, right? You guys were practically joined at the hip. I was sure I'd see him glued to your side the moment I saw you."

A dark shadow crosses Jessie's eyes. She slowly sets her drink down, her knuckles turning pale as her fingers grip the glass. She lets out a cold, humorless laugh.

"Yeah... I should have noticed the warning signs back then, Bon.” Jessie's voice suddenly drops into a tight, strained whisper. "Before his possessiveness ate him alive."

I lean in closer, my chest tightening. "Jess, what happened?"

"Benjamin wasn't just my pair partner," she says, staring down at her coaster. "He was a toxic, controlling nightmare. At first, I thought he was just protective, but over the years, it turned into complete isolation. He controlled who I talked to, what I wore, even who I texted."

Her voice cracks slightly, and she tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear, her hands trembling.

"Two months ago, I met up with my distant male cousin for lunch—someone I hadn't seen in three years. Benjamin saw us from his car. He came home, lost his mind, and... he physically assaulted me, Bonnie."

My breath hitches in my throat. My blood runs cold. "He what?"

"It was a bitter, ugly breakup," Jessie continues, a tear slipping down her cheek, though her jaw remains set in anger. "I cut him off completely and tried to break our pair contract. But he refused to let go. He turned into a full-blown stalker. He started harassing me at practice, showing up at my apartment, and threatening to ruin my career if I ever dared to step onto the ice with another male partner."

"That bastard," I snap, my fists clenching so hard my nails cut into my palms. "Tell me he's locked up! Tell me he's away from you!"

"The federation stepped in after I filed a restraining order," Jessie whispers, wiping her cheek quickly. "He was officially suspended from the facility last week. He's not allowed on the grounds. But... every time I walk to my car or step onto the ice alone, I'm terrified he's watching me."

I reach across the table, grabbing Jessie's trembling hands tightly in mine. The fear in her eyes cuts right through me. Here I was, drowning in my own dread of Mael Laurent's arrogance, while my best friend was fighting off a literal predator who tried to destroy her life.

"He won't touch you again, Jess," I say fiercely, holding her gaze. "I'm back now. You're not dealing with him alone anymore."

Jessie gives me a weak, grateful smile, squeezing my hands back. "Look at us, Bennett. Two national champions, completely surrounded by toxic men."

"We're going to survive them," I say firmly, raising my glass toward her. "Both of them."

Jessie clinks her glass against mine, the sharp ringing sound cutting through the low noise of the bar. This is not the time to think about the arrogant, cold-eyed boy who holds my entire future in his hands.