Updated Feb 24, 2026 • ~11 min read
POV: Blair
The trade rejection changed everything. Two years felt like a death sentence. Blair tried to stay positive. Failed miserably.
Sage didn’t help. Despite Cal’s public relationship status, she was still around. Still friendly. Still present. Team events. Practices. Everywhere. And the media loved it. Montgomery’s Triangle: Girlfriend in Vancouver, Boss’s Daughter in Seattle. Who Will Win Cal Montgomery’s Heart? Sage Winters: The Other Woman? It was nauseating.
Blair saw a photo. Team charity event. Cal and Sage. Again. This time she was adjusting his tie. Both laughing. Intimate. Familiar. Like they did this all the time. Comments were brutal: They have chemistry! Sorry Blair but Sage is RIGHT THERE. Long distance never works, he’s gonna pick Sage. Upgrade tbh. Blair wanted to scream.
She called Cal. He answered mid-conversation with someone.
“—yeah, just a second. Hey Blair, can I call you back?”
“Who are you with?”
“Sage. We’re reviewing marketing stuff for—”
“Of course you are.”
“Blair—”
“Why is she always around you?”
“She works here. I work here. We’re going to be around each other.”
“Adjusting your tie isn’t work.”
Silence. “You saw that photo.”
“Hard to miss. It’s everywhere.”
“It was nothing. My tie was crooked. She fixed it. Two seconds.”
“Two seconds captured perfectly for public consumption.”
“I can’t control what photographers capture—”
“You can control whether she touches you!”
Cal’s voice hardened. “I’m at work. She’s my colleague. I can’t create drama by rejecting normal human interaction.”
“Normal? There’s nothing normal about how much she touches you!”
“You’re being paranoid.”
Wrong thing to say.
“Paranoid? Really? I’m watching another woman stake her claim while you do nothing!”
“I went public! I posted about us! What more do you want?”
“I want you to actually set boundaries! Tell her to back off!”
“I have! Multiple times! She’s persistent!”
“Then be more persistent!”
“I’m trying! But she’s the owner’s daughter and I have to be diplomatic!”
“More diplomatic than with me apparently!”
Cal was done. She could hear it in his voice. “I can’t do this right now. I’m at work. We’ll talk later.”
He hung up. Blair stared at her phone. Shaking. This was falling apart. Again.
Cal didn’t call back. Not that night. Not the next day. Radio silence. Blair was spiraling. Was this it? Was this how they ended? Fighting about Sage while trapped in different cities?
Sienna found her crying. “Oh babe. What happened?”
Blair showed her the photos. The comments. The articles. “Everyone thinks he’s going to leave me for her.”
“Who cares what everyone thinks?”
“I care! Because maybe they’re right! She’s there. I’m here. She’s gorgeous and available and the owner’s daughter. I’m the complicated long-distance ex-employee who got him benched.”
“Stop. You’re the woman he loves. That photo means nothing.”
“Does it? Because he hasn’t called. We fought and he just… disappeared.”
“He’s probably giving you space.”
“Or realizing Sage is the easier option.”
“Cal’s not going to choose easy. He never has. He chose you when it cost everything. He’s not switching now.”
Blair wanted to believe that. Couldn’t quite manage it.
Two days of silence. Blair was losing her mind. Then Cal showed up. At her apartment. Unannounced. Thursday night. No game. Just him.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk. Face to face.”
Blair let him in. Terrified this was the breakup conversation.
They sat on her couch. Tense. Distant. Not touching.
“I’m sorry,” Cal started. “For hanging up. For the silence. I was angry.”
“So was I.”
“I know. But we can’t keep doing this. Fighting about Sage. About distance. About everything.”
“Then what do we do?”
“We trust each other. Actually trust. Not this paranoid checking of photos and reading into comments.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not watching someone else pursue your partner.”
“Sage isn’t pursuing me—”
“Yes she is! And you’re either blind or willfully ignorant!”
“Fine! Maybe she is interested! But I’m not! I’ve told her that! I’ve set boundaries! What more can I do?”
“Quit!”
The word hung there. Cal stared.
“Quit?”
“Yes. Request another trade. Retire early. Something. Get away from her.”
“You want me to quit hockey because you’re jealous?”
“I want you to choose me! Actively! Not just say you choose me while letting her hover!”
“I did choose you! I’m here! I drove four hours in the middle of the week because we’re fighting! If that’s not choosing you, I don’t know what is!”
He was right. Blair knew he was right. But the fear didn’t care.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Scared you’ll realize she’s easier. Closer. Less complicated.”
Cal moved closer. Took her hands. “I don’t want easy. I want you. Complicated, difficult, four-hours-away you. Because you’re worth it.”
“Even with all the fighting? The jealousy? The mess?”
“Especially with all that. Because it means you care. That this matters.”
Blair was crying. “I’m sorry. For being paranoid. For not trusting you.”
“I’m sorry too. For not being more sensitive to how it looks. How it feels for you.”
“I hate that she’s there and I’m not.”
“I know. I hate it too.”
They made love. Desperate. Intense. Making up. Proving they were still them. Still together despite everything trying to tear them apart.
After, wrapped in sheets, Cal said: “I blocked her.”
“What?”
“Sage. I blocked her on everything. Instagram. Phone. Email. Everything.”
“Cal, you can’t—she’s your boss’s—”
“I don’t care. You need me to set a boundary? That’s the boundary. Work only. No social media. No texting. No tie adjustments. Nothing beyond professional necessity.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes I did. Because you’re right. She was pushing. And I was letting it happen to keep the peace. But keeping the peace with her means war with you. And I choose you.”
Blair kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. This is basic. I should’ve done it weeks ago.”
They spent the weekend together. Reconnecting. Rebuilding. It was good. Really good. Like old times. Before Sage. Before distance. Before everything got complicated.
Sunday night, Cal had to leave. Back to Seattle. Back to reality.
“This sucks.”
“Agreed.”
“Two years of this is impossible.”
“We’ll find a way.”
“What if we don’t?”
Blair didn’t answer. Because she was wondering the same thing.
Cal left. Blair was alone again. But different this time. Because she knew he chose her. Actively. Definitively. That had to be enough. Had to.
Except Monday, the photos started again. Sage at practice. Near Cal. Not touching. But close. Body language obvious. She wasn’t giving up.
Blair saw it. So did the comments: She’s still trying lol. Persistent queen. Cal blocked her but she’s THERE. This is gonna end badly.
Blair agreed with that last one.
She didn’t call Cal. Didn’t want to fight again. But the resentment built. He’d blocked her online but couldn’t escape her in person. And Blair was four hours away. Powerless. Watching. Seething.
Nash texted: Cal’s miserable. He’s avoiding Sage completely. Making it awkward.
Good. She should be uncomfortable.
Preston’s noticing. Asked Cal if there’s a problem.
Is there?
Only if he makes one. But heads up—Sage complained about being “frozen out.” Preston’s not happy.
Great. So Cal sets boundaries and gets in trouble. Can’t win.
Cal called that night. “Preston called me in. About Sage.”
“What did he say?”
“That I’m being unprofessional. Cold. Creating workplace tension.”
“Because you stopped letting her flirt with you?”
“Essentially yes. He wants me to be ‘collegial.'”
“Collegial means letting her touch you?”
“According to Preston. He said her father’s noticed she’s upset. Asking questions. I need to smooth things over.”
“By doing what?”
“Being friendly. Engaging. Basically undoing every boundary I just set.”
Blair was furious. “So we’re back to square one.”
“I don’t know what to do, Blair. If I maintain boundaries, Preston’s on my ass. If I drop them, you’re upset. I can’t win.”
“Then choose. Me or workplace peace.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Life’s not fair. Welcome to my world.”
She hung up. Done. Completely done.
They didn’t talk for three days. Longest silence yet. Blair was heartbroken. Cal was probably the same. But neither would bend. Both too stubborn. Too hurt.
Then Blair saw a photo. Cal and Sage. Team event. Gala. They were talking. Smiling. Not touching. But friendly. Collegial. Exactly what Preston demanded.
Comments exploded: They’re back to being friendly! Knew he couldn’t stay mad at her. Poor Blair. He’s definitely cheating.
Blair didn’t call. Didn’t text. Just stared at the photo. Wondering if everyone was right. If this was hopeless. If Cal was going to choose the path of least resistance. Sage.
Cal called. She didn’t answer. He called again. Again. Finally left a voicemail: “Blair, please. It’s not what it looks like. Preston mandated I attend. Mandated I be friendly. I was professional. Nothing more. Please call me back. I love you.”
Blair deleted it. Couldn’t handle this. Couldn’t keep fighting the same battle. Losing every time.
Sienna staged an intervention. “You need to talk to him.”
“Why? So we can fight again?”
“So you can decide if this relationship has a future. Because right now you’re in limbo. Miserable limbo.”
“I don’t know if it does. Have a future.”
“Then end it. Cleanly. Or commit. Fully. But stop this half-in torture.”
She was right. Blair knew she was right. This wasn’t sustainable.
She called Cal. He answered immediately.
“Blair—”
“We need to talk. For real this time.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“I can’t keep doing this. Watching Sage circle you. Fighting about boundaries. Living in constant fear you’ll realize she’s easier.”
“She’s not easier—”
“She is. She’s there. Available. Uncomplicated. No fraternization policy. No long distance. Just easy.”
“I don’t want easy—”
“So you keep saying. But Cal, at some point, easy starts looking pretty good. Especially when hard keeps getting harder.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe we should stop. For real this time. Not a break. Not a pause. Just… end.”
Silence. Cal was crying. She could hear it.
“Don’t do this. Please.”
“I don’t know what else to do. We’re stuck. You’re stuck. And I can’t watch Sage win by default.”
“She’s not winning anything—”
“Isn’t she? You’re being friendly again. Collegial. Exactly what she wants.”
“Because I have to for work—”
“And I have to protect myself. From constant heartbreak. From waiting for the inevitable.”
“There’s no inevitable. I love you—”
“I know. But maybe love isn’t enough.”
She hung up. Shaking. That felt like goodbye. Real goodbye.
Blair cried for hours. This was the right decision. The necessary decision. So why did it feel like dying?
Cal didn’t call back. Didn’t text. Respecting her boundary. Letting her go. Blair should have been relieved. Instead, she was devastated.
Three days later, Cal showed up. Again. At her apartment. Unannounced.
“We’re not doing this,” he said.
“Doing what?”
“Breaking up because of distance and Sage and fear. We’re better than that.”
“Are we? Because it feels like we’re exactly that fragile.”
“Then we get stronger. Together. Not by running away.”
“I’m not running—”
“You are. Because it’s scary and hard. But I’m not letting you. I’m fighting for us. Even if you won’t.”
God. Why did he have to be like this? Stubborn. Persistent. Perfect.
“What do you want from me?”
“Trust. Real trust. That I choose you. Every day. Despite Sage. Despite Preston. Despite everything.”
“I’m trying—”
“Try harder. Because I’m here. Again. Choosing you. Actively. When will that be enough?”
He was right. When would it be enough? How many times did he have to prove it?
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know. Me too. But we do this scared. Together.”
Blair kissed him. Desperate. Clinging. Giving in. She couldn’t fight anymore. Couldn’t walk away. Even when she should.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. So stop trying to leave me.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They made love. Again. Sealing the promise. Recommitting. For the hundredth time. This relationship was exhausting. And worth it. Somehow. Always somehow.
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