Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~10 min read
Chapter 21: The Contract
POV: Henrik
Henrik – HIS COMMITMENT ISSUES SURFACE
Henrik sits in his agent’s office staring at a contract that represents everything he’s worked toward professionally—multi-year endorsement deal with a major athletic brand, seven figures annually, national advertising campaign, the kind of visibility that could set him up financially for life after hockey—and the only catch is a clause buried on page twelve that requires him to maintain a “clean single image” for the duration of the contract, which is a polite way of saying no public relationships for the next two years.
“It’s standard for this level of deal,” his agent Marcus explains, sliding the contract across the desk. “They want you as the eligible bachelor athlete. The fantasy for consumers. Public relationships complicate that narrative.”
“I’m not single,” Henrik says, even though Rory’s still in the process of transitioning to basketball coverage and they haven’t gone fully public yet, even though their relationship is still semi-secret beyond his teammates and her best friend. “I’m with someone. Seriously.”
“The journalist,” Marcus says, and his tone suggests he’s already done the research, already knows exactly who Rory is and what complications she represents. “The one you’ve been keeping quiet because of her job. Henrik, this deal requires discretion anyway. You stay quiet about the relationship, fulfill the contract terms, and after two years you go public with whoever you’re still with. It’s not asking you to be actually single—just to appear single publicly.”
“That’s lying,” Henrik points out.
“That’s marketing,” Marcus corrects. “And it’s temporary. Two years of maintaining image in exchange for generational wealth. Most athletes would jump at this opportunity.”
Henrik stares at the contract knowing Marcus is right—this is exactly the kind of deal most professional athletes dream about, the kind of financial security that means never worrying about money again, the kind of visibility that opens doors to opportunities beyond hockey—but accepting it would mean asking Rory to stay secret for two more years after she just decided to request reassignment specifically so they could go public, would mean prioritizing his career over their relationship in exactly the way he criticized her for doing, would mean proving that when it really matters he’s no different from Carlos who prioritized himself always.
“Can I think about it?” Henrik asks, hating the hesitation in his own voice because he should be immediately saying no, should be rejecting any opportunity that requires hiding Rory, should be prioritizing the relationship over the money.
But it’s a lot of money.
Life-changing money.
Set-his-mother-up-for-retirement money.
Buy-a-house-and-start-a-family-someday money.
“Think about it,” Marcus agrees. “But I need an answer by Friday. They’re considering other athletes if you pass.”
Henrik takes the contract home and spends the evening reading it thoroughly while trying not to think about what accepting would mean for his relationship with Rory, trying not to calculate exactly how much financial security he’d be giving up if he rejects it, trying not to compare this dilemma to the one Rory faced when she had to choose between warning him about the trade rumor and maintaining journalism ethics.
This is different, he tells himself.
This is about his career, his financial future, his ability to provide long-term stability.
This isn’t about hiding Rory permanently—just for two years while the contract is active.
She’d understand, right?
She prioritized her career over him multiple times already.
Surely she’d understand him doing the same thing for an opportunity this significant.
Except Henrik knows that reasoning is bullshit even as he’s trying to convince himself it’s valid, knows that asking Rory to stay hidden for two more years after she literally changed jobs to accommodate their relationship would be fundamentally unfair, knows that if he signs this contract he’s proving he’s exactly as selfish as Carlos just in different ways.
He doesn’t tell Rory about the offer.
Not that night when she comes over to celebrate finally submitting her request for reassignment.
Not the next day when they’re having breakfast and discussing potential timelines for going public.
Not during the week when they’re making plans for him to meet her family and her to meet his mother.
He just… doesn’t mention it.
Tells himself he’s thinking it through, that there’s no point bringing it up until he’s made a decision, that worrying her about something he might not even accept would be cruel.
But really he’s avoiding the conversation because he knows what she’ll say, knows that asking her to stay secret for his career after everything they’ve been through would destroy her trust, knows that he should reject the offer immediately but can’t quite make himself do it because the money is so tempting and the opportunity is so rare and maybe—just maybe—she’d understand if he explained it right.
By Thursday he still hasn’t made a decision and Marcus is texting asking for an answer, and Henrik’s standing in his apartment staring at the contract spread across his dining table when Rory lets herself in with the key he gave her last month.
“Hey,” she says, dropping her bag and heading toward him for a kiss. “What’s all this?”
Henrik realizes too late that he should have put the contract away, should have hidden it before Rory arrived, but now she’s looking at the papers scattered across his table with growing awareness that something significant is happening.
“Endorsement deal,” Henrik admits, because lying seems worse than confronting this now. “My agent sent it over. Big opportunity.”
“That’s amazing,” Rory says, genuinely excited until she starts reading the visible pages and her expression shifts to confusion. “Wait, this clause about public image requirements. What does ‘clean single image’ mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Henrik says, hating the defensive edge in his voice. “They want me to appear single publicly for the duration of the contract. No public relationships.”
Rory goes very still. “For how long?”
“Two years.”
“Two years,” Rory repeats flatly. “They want you to hide any relationship for two years. And you’re… considering this?”
“It’s a lot of money,” Henrik argues, even though he knows how weak that sounds. “Life-changing money. And it’s not asking me to actually be single—just to keep the relationship private. Which we’ve already been doing.”
“We’ve been keeping it private because of my job,” Rory says slowly, and Henrik can see her processing this, can see the hurt and anger building beneath the careful control. “And I just requested reassignment specifically so we could go public. So we could stop hiding. And you’re considering signing a contract that would require us to keep hiding for two more years?”
“I haven’t decided anything,” Henrik defends. “I’m just thinking about it. Weighing the options.”
“How long have you been thinking about it?” Rory asks. “How long have you had this contract?”
“Since Monday,” Henrik admits quietly.
“It’s Thursday,” Rory says, and now the anger is visible. “You’ve had a contract requiring you to hide me for four days and you didn’t think to mention it? Didn’t think maybe this was something we should discuss together?”
“I didn’t want to worry you if I wasn’t going to accept it,” Henrik argues, but it sounds hollow even to him.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Rory snaps. “You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d be hurt. Because you knew asking me to stay secret for two more years after I literally changed jobs to accommodate our relationship would be fundamentally unfair. So you just… avoided the conversation while you decided whether money was worth more than us.”
“That’s not what this is,” Henrik argues, but he can hear the lie in his own voice.
“Then what is it?” Rory challenges. “Explain to me how you considering a deal that requires hiding me for two years is anything other than you prioritizing your career over our relationship. After you got mad at me for doing exactly that with the trade rumor article.”
“This is different,” Henrik insists.
“How?” Rory demands. “How is this different from me choosing to publish a story before telling you? How is hiding this contract from me for four days while you decided if I’m worth more than money different from me prioritizing journalism over warning you first?”
Henrik doesn’t have a good answer because she’s right—this is the same choice he criticized her for making, the same prioritization of career over relationship, the same failure to communicate about something important.
“I was going to tell you,” Henrik says weakly.
“When?” Rory asks. “After you’d already decided? After you’d signed the contract and I had to deal with staying hidden for two more years? Or were you planning to just reject it and never tell me you’d considered choosing money over us?”
“I don’t know,” Henrik admits. “I don’t know what I was going to do. I’m just—fuck, Rory, this is a lot of money. Enough to set up my mother for life. Enough to buy a house. Enough that I’d never have to worry about financial security after hockey. And I know asking you to hide for two more years isn’t fair, but maybe it’s worth it for that kind of opportunity.”
“So I’m not worth it,” Rory says quietly. “That’s what you’re saying. The money is worth two more years of hiding, but I’m not worth rejecting the money to actually be together publicly.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Henrik argues desperately. “I’m just trying to figure out if there’s a way to have both—the endorsement deal and the relationship.”
“There isn’t,” Rory says flatly. “You can have the money or you can have me publicly. You can’t have both. And the fact that you’ve spent four days trying to figure out how to have both instead of immediately choosing me tells me everything I need to know about your priorities.”
“Rory—” Henrik starts, but she’s already grabbing her bag and heading for the door.
“Call me when you’ve decided what matters more,” Rory says, and her voice is cold in a way Henrik’s never heard before. “Your career or us. Money or me. But don’t call me if the answer is money, because I’m done being someone’s second choice.”
She leaves and Henrik stands in his apartment surrounded by contract papers that suddenly feel less like opportunity and more like evidence of his own hypocrisy, and he realizes with sick certainty that he’s been doing exactly what he accused Rory of—prioritizing career over relationship, avoiding difficult conversations, choosing what’s safe and profitable over what’s right.
He texts Marcus: *I’m rejecting the deal. Don’t want anything that requires hiding who I love.*
Then he tries calling Rory—voicemail.
Texts: *I’m sorry. You’re right. I was wrong. I’m rejecting the contract. You matter more than money.*
No response.
He spends the night replaying their argument and hating himself for even considering the endorsement deal, for not immediately rejecting anything that required hiding Rory, for proving that when presented with the same choice he criticized her for making, he failed just as badly.
By morning there’s still no response from Rory, and Henrik realizes he might have just destroyed the best relationship he’s ever had by being too scared to immediately choose her over financial security.
He rejected the contract.
But maybe he rejected it too late.
🔥
END CHAPTER 21
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