Updated Feb 24, 2026 • ~8 min read
POV: Blair
Seattle advanced to the Conference Finals. Cal’s ribs healed. Playing at full strength. Dominant. Unstoppable. Leading the team to a potential championship. Blair was proud. And terrified. Because the better he played, the less likely Seattle would trade him.
His agent called mid-series. News about the trade. Blair was on FaceTime when it happened. Saw Cal’s face fall.
“What do you mean permanently off the table?”
She couldn’t hear the response, but Cal’s expression said everything.
“Two more years? That’s—I requested this four months ago!”
More talking from the agent. Cal was getting angrier.
“I don’t care about contract value! I care about being with my girlfriend!”
Blair’s heart sank. This wasn’t good.
“Fine. Yeah. Thanks for trying.”
He hung up. Stared at the phone. Silent.
“Cal?”
“They’re not trading me. Ever. Seattle says I’m core to their championship window. Non-negotiable.”
“What about your request—”
“Denied. Permanently. My agent says unless I retire or my contract expires, I’m stuck.”
“How long on your contract?”
“Two years.”
Two years. Same answer as before. But now it was final. Definite. No maybe. No possibility. Just stuck.
Blair couldn’t breathe. Two years of this. Long-distance. Missing him. Fighting about Sage and distance and everything. She couldn’t do it.
“Cal—”
“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say.”
“You don’t—”
“You’re going to say this is too hard. That two years is impossible. That we should break up.”
“That’s not—”
“Isn’t it? Because I can see it on your face. You’re done.”
Blair was crying. “I’m not done. I’m just… I don’t know what to do. We’ve been fighting for months. Waiting for this trade. And now it’s not happening. Ever.”
“So what? We give up?”
“I don’t want to give up—”
“Then don’t! We keep doing this! Long-distance for two more years!”
“I can’t do two more years, Cal! I barely survived six months!”
“Then what do you want me to do? Retire? Give up hockey?”
“I don’t know! Maybe!”
Wrong answer. Cal’s face went cold.
“You want me to give up the only thing I’ve ever been good at. For you.”
“That’s not what I said—”
“It’s exactly what you said! Retire! Quit! Sacrifice my entire career!”
“You said you would! You promised!”
“I said I’d consider it if we had no other options! We have options! Long-distance is an option!”
“A terrible option!”
“But an option! You’re just not willing to try!”
“I’ve been trying! For months! And it’s killing me!”
They were both shouting. Both crying. Everything boiling over. Months of frustration exploding.
“I can’t keep doing this,” Blair said finally. “The distance. The waiting. The constant heartbreak. I can’t.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe we need to stop. For real this time.”
“We’ve done this before. You always come back.”
“This time I won’t.”
Cal’s face crumbled. “You mean that.”
“I do. I’m sorry. But I can’t do two more years. I won’t survive it.”
“So you’re choosing to break up instead of fighting for us?”
“I’m choosing my sanity! My health! I love you but loving you is destroying me!”
Silence. Heavy. Final. Cal wiped his eyes.
“Fine. If that’s what you want.”
“It’s not what I want—”
“Sure sounds like it is. You want out? You’re out. Congratulations. You’re free.”
He hung up. Blair stared at the blank screen. What just happened? Did they really just break up? For real this time?
She tried calling back. Cal didn’t answer. Texts: I didn’t mean it like that. We need to talk. Please call me back. Nothing. Radio silence. For the first time ever, Cal wasn’t responding. He was really done.
Blair called Sienna. Sobbing. “We broke up.”
“Again?”
“For real this time. The trade fell through. Two more years long-distance. I said I couldn’t do it. He got angry. We fought. And now he won’t talk to me.”
“Give him time. He’s hurt—”
“No. This is different. I pushed too hard. Asked for too much. He’s actually done.”
“You don’t know that—”
“I do. I saw his face. He’s finished trying.”
Sienna didn’t argue. Because Blair was probably right.
Days passed. No contact. Cal was in Conference Finals. Playing phenomenally. Blair watched. Couldn’t help herself. He scored. Team won. Advancing to Stanley Cup Finals. Dream scenario. He should have been ecstatic. Looked miserable.
Media noticed. Montgomery Silent on Personal Life. What’s Wrong with Cal? Inside His Struggle. Sources: Montgomery and Girlfriend Split. The story broke. Everyone knew. Their breakup was public. Speculated about. Analyzed. She couldn’t handle the distance. He chose hockey over love. They were doomed from the start. Comments were brutal. Half blamed Blair. Half blamed Cal. Everyone had an opinion.
Blair deleted social media. Couldn’t handle it. The speculation. The judgment. She knew the truth. They both failed. Both gave up. Both chose self-preservation over fighting. And now it was over. Really over.
Vancouver was eliminated from playoffs. Lost in second round. Season over. Summer starting. Blair threw herself into off-season training. Players rehabbing injuries. Preparing for next season. Work. Constant work. Anything to not think about Cal. Didn’t work. Everything reminded her. Hockey. Seattle. Love. All of it.
Amanda noticed. “You’re working too much.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You’re here twelve hours a day. Every day. That’s not healthy.”
“It’s better than sitting home alone.”
“Is it? Or are you just avoiding dealing with the breakup?”
Blair didn’t answer. Because Amanda was right. She was avoiding. Hiding. Refusing to process. If she stopped working, she’d have to feel it. The loss. The pain. The regret. Couldn’t do that. Not yet.
Cal won the Stanley Cup. Game seven. Overtime. Dramatic finish. Blair watched from her apartment. Alone. Crying. He was lifting the trophy. Kissing it. Celebrating. Everything he ever wanted. She should have been happy for him. Was happy for him. But also devastated. Because she should have been there. Should have been celebrating with him. Would have been. If she hadn’t given up.
Post-game interview. Reporter asked about his girlfriend. Cal’s face closed. “No comment on personal life. This is about the team.” Professional. Cold. So unlike him. Blair cried harder. This was her fault. She pushed him away. Demanded the impossible. Gave up when it got hard. And now he’d won everything. Except her.
Sienna called. “You okay?”
“No.”
“Did you watch?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He deserves this. He worked so hard.”
“So did you. For him. For the relationship.”
“Not hard enough. I quit.”
“You didn’t quit. You made an impossible choice.”
“Wrong choice.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Time will tell.”
Blair wanted to text him. Congratulations. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry. Couldn’t. They were broken up. Officially. He’d moved on. She needed to too.
Except she couldn’t. Weeks passed. Off-season deepened. Cal was radio silent. No texts. No calls. No posts. Complete silence. Blair stalked his Instagram. Pathetic. But necessary. He was partying with the team. Celebrating the championship. Looked happy. Or drunk. Hard to tell.
Nash texted out of nowhere. He’s a mess.
What?
Cal. He’s a wreck. Won’t admit it. But he’s destroyed.
He won the Cup.
And lost you. Which matters more apparently.
He’s not reaching out.
Because you broke up with him. Pride won’t let him chase you again.
So what do I do?
Decide if you want him back. Actually want him. For real. Not just when it’s convenient.
I want him.
Then tell him. Because he’s not going to ask again. Ball’s in your court.
Blair stared at her phone. The ball was in her court. She ended it. She needed to fix it. If she wanted to. Did she? Two years long-distance. Two years of missing him. Could she do it? Or would she just break his heart again?
She didn’t know. Wished she did. But the answer wasn’t clear. Just fear. And love. And confusion. So she did nothing. Let the silence continue. Let the breakup stand. Coward’s choice. But safe.
Summer dragged on. Blair was miserable. Cal was presumably the same. They were both too stubborn to fix it. Too scared to try again. Too hurt to reach out. So they stayed broken. Apart. Alone. Exactly what neither of them wanted. But what they both chose.
Blair lay awake at night. Wondering if this was permanent. If she really lost him for good. If the love of her life was gone. Because she couldn’t handle two years. Couldn’t trust they’d survive. Couldn’t fight through the hard part. Maybe everyone was right. They were doomed from the start. Forbidden love never works. Distance always wins. And she should’ve known better. Should’ve protected her heart. Instead of giving it completely. To a man she couldn’t have. In a situation that couldn’t work. With a love that wasn’t enough.
She cried herself to sleep. Again. Like every night since the breakup. This was the worst pain she’d ever felt. Worse than getting fired. Worse than Grant’s betrayal. Worse than anything. Because this time, she did it to herself. She chose this pain. And there was no one to blame. Except herself.
But even knowing that. Even drowning in regret. She still didn’t call. Still didn’t fix it. Because what if it broke again? What if two years apart destroyed them anyway? What if this was inevitable? Better to end now. Cleanly. Finally. Than drag it out. Fail slowly. Break completely. Right? Right? She didn’t know anymore.
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