Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~11 min read
Chapter 17: Half-Public
POV: Rory
Rory – GOING PUBLIC (SORT OF)
Rory realizes their secret relationship has evolved into something that’s not quite secret anymore when she shows up at Henrik’s apartment on a Tuesday night and finds Lucas sitting on the couch with his wife Elena looking entirely too comfortable and knowing, like they’ve been expecting her arrival and have already discussed exactly what her presence here means.
“Rory,” Lucas says with a smile that’s both friendly and smug. “Good to finally officially meet Henrik’s girlfriend instead of pretending we don’t all know you two are together.”
“We’re not—” Rory starts automatically, then catches Henrik’s expression and realizes there’s no point denying it to teammates who’ve clearly already figured it out. “Okay fine. But this stays between us. My editor can’t know. Other journalists can’t know. This is still secret from a professional standpoint.”
“Understood,” Elena says warmly, patting the couch next to her in invitation. “Henrik’s told us about the complications with your job. We’re not going to say anything. But Rory, it’s nice to see him actually happy with someone instead of just going through the motions with dates that go nowhere.”
Henrik brings Rory a beer and settles next to her with a casual arm around her shoulders that feels deliberately comfortable, like he’s making a statement about their relationship being real enough to show physical affection in front of friends, and Rory finds herself relaxing into it instead of tensing up about the visibility.
They spend the evening playing board games—Rory and Henrik against Lucas and Elena in a competitive game of Codenames that gets intense enough that Rory forgets momentarily about maintaining professional distance and just enjoys being part of a couple doing normal couple things with other couples—and by the time Lucas and Elena leave around eleven with knowing smiles and promises to have them over for dinner soon, Rory realizes she’s been treating Henrik like an actual boyfriend instead of a secret she has to hide.
“That was nice,” Rory admits after they’re gone, helping Henrik clean up beer bottles and snack plates. “Normal. Like we’re actually a real couple instead of just two people sneaking around.”
“We are a real couple,” Henrik points out. “We’re just a real couple who happens to be keeping the relationship quiet from your work. But with friends and teammates? I want to be able to actually claim you. Show affection. Let people know I’m with someone I love.”
“How many of your teammates know?” Rory asks, realizing she’s been so focused on hiding from journalists that she hasn’t considered how visible they might be within Henrik’s social circle.
“Most of them suspect,” Henrik admits. “I’m terrible at hiding when I’m happy, apparently. But only Lucas knows for certain because he caught us having a moment at that team dinner months ago. The others just think I’m seeing someone—they don’t know it’s you specifically.”
“Should we tell them?” Rory asks, surprising herself with the question. “Your teammates, I mean. Make it official within the team even if we’re still hiding from press?”
“Do you want to?” Henrik looks hopeful but cautious, like he’s trying not to push but definitely wants the answer to be yes.
“Maybe,” Rory considers. “It would be nice to stop pretending at team events. To actually be your girlfriend publicly in at least one context instead of constantly performing professional distance.”
“We could tell them at the next team party,” Henrik suggests. “Casual announcement. Just ‘hey, we’re together, please don’t tell press because it complicates Rory’s job’ and then actually get to be a couple around people who matter to me.”
“Okay,” Rory agrees, and it feels like progress—not full public disclosure, but at least honesty with Henrik’s immediate community. “Let’s do that.”
The next team event is a charity gala two weeks later—black tie fundraiser where players bring dates and schmooze with donors and press takes photos of athletes looking respectable in tuxedos—and Rory shows up as Henrik’s official date instead of as a journalist covering the event, wearing a dress Henrik helped her pick out and feeling simultaneously nervous and excited about being publicly acknowledged as his girlfriend for the first time.
“You look incredible,” Henrik says when he picks her up, and he’s staring at her in the emerald green dress like she’s the only person he wants to look at for the rest of the night.
“You clean up pretty well yourself,” Rory responds, adjusting his bow tie with familiar intimacy. “Very James Bond.”
“Swedish James Bond,” Henrik corrects with a smile. “Much more reserved about the vodka martinis.”
They arrive at the gala together—Henrik’s hand on her lower back as they walk in, visible and deliberate and making a statement to anyone paying attention that they’re together—and Rory can see the moment Henrik’s teammates register her presence not as press but as Henrik’s date.
Lucas grins knowingly and gives Henrik a subtle thumbs up. Several other players do double-takes, clearly recognizing Rory from press conferences and trying to reconcile “journalist who covers the team” with “Henrik’s girlfriend in a formal dress.”
“Are you ready for this?” Henrik asks quietly as they approach a group of his teammates who are definitely staring.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Rory says, and Henrik addresses the group with casual confidence.
“Everyone, this is Rory—my girlfriend,” Henrik announces, and the words sound both natural and significant. “You know her as the Tribune journalist, but we’ve been dating for a few months and we’re asking for discretion about keeping this quiet from press since it could complicate her job.”
The responses range from “finally, you two were so obvious” from the goalie to “wait, the journalist who writes those critical articles about our defense?” from a rookie defenseman, but overall the team seems supportive rather than judgmental, and several players approach to introduce their own partners and welcome Rory into the unofficial team family.
“This is surreal,” Rory tells Henrik later when they’re dancing to big band music that the event organizers thought was classy. “Being your girlfriend publicly. Even if it’s just to the team. It feels real in a way it didn’t before.”
“That’s because it is real,” Henrik says, pulling her closer in a way that’s definitely not professionally appropriate but perfectly acceptable for couples on a dance floor. “And I’m really glad you’re letting it be real instead of just secret.”
They spend the rest of the evening functioning as an actual couple—Henrik introducing Rory to donors as his girlfriend, Rory talking shop with other team partners about the challenges of dating professional athletes, both of them dancing and laughing and existing in public without having to hide affection—and by the time Henrik drops her off at her apartment at midnight with a kiss that lingers, Rory feels like they’ve crossed some invisible threshold from secret relationship to acknowledged partnership.
The following week brings a new complication when Rory’s covering a home game and has to interview Henrik post-game while knowing that half the team is now aware they’re dating, and maintaining professional distance feels more difficult when she can see Lucas smirking in the background and several other players watching their interaction with barely concealed amusement.
“Henrik Andersen, great game tonight—can you talk about that goal in the second period?” Rory asks with her journalist voice firmly in place, recorder held between them like a barrier.
“Thanks,” Henrik responds with his media face on, but there’s warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before they started dating. “We’ve been working on that play in practice. Good execution by the team.”
Standard athlete answer, but delivered while looking at Rory in a way that suggests he’s thinking about after the game when they can drop the professional pretense and just be together, and Rory has to fight to maintain her composure when what she wants to do is smile back at him in ways that would definitely reveal their relationship to anyone paying attention.
“You’re torturing him,” Lucas says after Rory finishes the interview and moves on to talk to other players. “Making him pretend he doesn’t know you when the whole team knows he’s going home with you after this.”
“Professional boundaries,” Rory argues. “Just because the team knows doesn’t mean I can start treating him differently in my journalism.”
“Nobody’s suggesting you compromise your ethics,” Lucas points out. “Just that maybe the rigid distance is harder now that you’re acknowledged as a couple in this context. The code-switching must be exhausting.”
He’s right—it is exhausting to be Henrik’s girlfriend at team events and then switch back to objective journalist at practices and games, to know that teammates are watching them pretend not to know each other when everyone’s aware they’re together, to maintain two completely different versions of their relationship depending on context.
“I don’t know how to make it less exhausting,” Rory admits to Henrik that night when they’re at his place decompressing from the game. “Being your girlfriend to the team but still having to maintain professional distance at work. It’s like I’m constantly code-switching and I’m never sure which version of us I’m supposed to be in any given moment.”
“Then maybe we need to talk about actually going fully public,” Henrik suggests carefully. “Not tomorrow. But eventually. Because this half-secret situation seems unsustainable long-term.”
“I’m not ready for that,” Rory says immediately, panic spiking at the thought of her editor finding out, of having to request reassignment, of potentially losing the Frost beat she’s worked so hard to establish herself on. “My career would get so complicated. The conflict of interest questions alone—”
“I know,” Henrik interrupts gently. “I’m not pushing. Just pointing out that we’re going to have to deal with this eventually. Because we can’t keep code-switching forever. Something’s going to give.”
Rory knows he’s right—knows that their current arrangement of acknowledged relationship within Henrik’s world and secret relationship within her professional sphere can’t last indefinitely—but the thought of actually going public makes her anxious in ways she’s not ready to confront.
“Can we just… enjoy this for now?” Rory asks. “Being official with your teammates. Still secret from my work. Figure out the full public thing later when I’m less terrified of the consequences?”
“Of course,” Henrik agrees, pulling her close. “We move at your pace. Always. I’m just happy you’re letting the team know. That’s more than I had last month.”
They fall into a pattern over the next few weeks that feels more sustainable than complete secrecy but still complicated—Henrik’s girlfriend at team functions, professional journalist at practices and games, carefully maintained boundaries that everyone’s aware of but pretends don’t exist, teammates who know and cover for them when necessary, Margot who gives brutally honest advice about whether Rory’s being reasonable or just scared.
“You’re going to have to go fully public eventually,” Margot points out over drinks one Thursday night. “The half-secret thing works for now, but what happens when someone from press sees you at a team event? When a photo of you two together surfaces and your editor asks questions? You’re building toward inevitable discovery and you need a plan for how to handle it.”
“I know,” Rory admits. “I’m just not ready. Not yet. Maybe after this season ends. Maybe when I’ve proven myself enough on the Frost beat that requesting reassignment doesn’t look like I’m running away from challenges.”
“Or maybe when you trust that Henrik is worth the professional complications,” Margot suggests gently. “Because right now it seems like you’re using your career as an excuse to avoid full vulnerability. And that’s not fair to either of you.”
Rory doesn’t have a good response to that because Margot might be right—maybe she is using her job as justification for keeping distance, for maintaining control, for having an escape route if loving Henrik turns out to be a mistake.
But she’s not ready to let go of that safety net yet.
Not when everything still feels so new and fragile and terrifying.
So she stays in the in-between—Henrik’s acknowledged girlfriend in private, his professional subject in public, code-switching constantly and hoping that eventually she’ll be brave enough to choose full disclosure over partial honesty.
Eventually.
Just not yet.
🔥
END CHAPTER 17
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