Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~10 min read
Chapter 26: She Ran
POV: Rory
Rory – THE FIGHT
Rory has been rebuilding friendship with Henrik for three weeks—carefully structured coffee dates where they talk about therapy and work and everything except whether they’re getting back together romantically, supportive texts after games, comfortable silences that feel like healing instead of tension—when playoff game seven happens and everything she’s been carefully constructing crashes down in the space of a brutal hit that sends Henrik crashing into the boards with enough force that the entire arena goes silent.
She’s in the press box doing her job—covering the game for a special playoff feature because Williams is still out sick—and she watches Henrik go down hard, watches him not get up immediately, watches the medical team rush onto the ice with the kind of urgency that suggests this is serious, and every professional instinct she has screams that she should stay in the press box and do her job while every personal instinct screams that she needs to get to him now.
Professional loses.
Rory’s running before she consciously makes the decision—down the stairs from press box, flashing her credentials at security who barely glances before letting her through, making her way to the medical area with her heart in her throat and her hands shaking because Henrik went down hard and isn’t moving and what if he’s seriously hurt, what if this is bad, what if she’s been wasting three weeks rebuilding friendship when she should have just admitted she still loves him.
She bursts into the medical area to find Henrik sitting on an examination table while the team doctor examines his head and shoulder, and he’s conscious and talking which means it can’t be that bad, means he’s okay, means she can breathe again.
“What are you doing here?” Henrik asks, spotting her in the doorway. “You’re supposed to be in the press box.”
“I needed to see if you’re okay,” Rory says, very aware that there are medical staff and team personnel witnessing this, very aware that she’s just blown whatever professional credibility she’s rebuilt by running to check on a player like she’s his girlfriend instead of a journalist. “You went down hard. I had to—I needed to make sure you weren’t seriously hurt.”
“I’m fine,” Henrik says, but there’s something in his eyes that suggests he understands what her presence here means. “Probably a concussion. Definitely bruised shoulder. But I’m okay.”
The team doctor confirms the concussion diagnosis and rules Henrik out for the rest of the game, and Rory should leave, should go back to the press box and do her job, but her feet won’t move and her hands are still shaking from the adrenaline of watching him get hit.
“Everyone out,” Henrik says to the medical staff. “Give me five minutes with Rory. Please.”
The doctor looks like he wants to argue but something in Henrik’s expression must convince him it’s important, because he ushers everyone out and closes the door, leaving Rory and Henrik alone in the medical room with tension thick enough to cut.
“You ran here,” Henrik says. “From the press box. In the middle of a playoff game. You abandoned your professional post to check on me.”
“Yes,” Rory admits, because lying seems pointless when her presence here speaks for itself. “I watched you go down and I couldn’t—I couldn’t just sit there doing my job while you might be hurt. I had to make sure you were okay.”
“Why?” Henrik asks, and there’s something challenging in the question. “We’re just friends, right? Friends rebuilding trust. Friends figuring out if we can be more someday. Why run to check on me if we’re just friends?”
“You know why,” Rory says, frustrated and scared and still shaking from watching him get hit. “Don’t make me say it.”
“I need you to say it,” Henrik presses. “Because I’ve been doing friendship for three weeks while being in love with you. I’ve been respecting your boundaries and giving you time and not pushing for more even though every conversation makes me want to kiss you. And watching you run here, watching you choose checking on me over doing your job, suggests maybe you’re in love with me too and we’ve been wasting time pretending friendship is enough.”
“Of course I’m in love with you!” Rory snaps, everything she’s been carefully controlling for three weeks suddenly exploding out. “Of course I’m still in love with you! I never stopped being in love with you! I just didn’t know how to trust that you wouldn’t hurt me again, didn’t know how to risk being vulnerable after spending two months protecting myself, didn’t know how to choose you without destroying myself if it didn’t work!”
“So choose me,” Henrik says, standing up from the examination table despite the doctor’s orders to stay still. “Right now. Choose me and trust that I’m not going to hurt you. Choose us and stop protecting yourself against something that might not happen.”
“I’m scared,” Rory admits, and there are tears now because she’s so tired of being scared, so tired of protecting herself, so tired of not having what she desperately wants because fear keeps her paralyzed.
“I’m scared too,” Henrik says, moving closer until he’s standing right in front of her. “I’m terrified that you’re going to decide I’m not worth the risk. That my mistakes are unforgivable. That loving me is too painful. But Rory, I’m done letting fear make decisions for me. I love you. I want to be with you. Not as friends rebuilding trust, but as partners actually building a life together. And I need to know if you want that too.”
“What if I hurt you again?” Rory asks. “What if I prioritize my career over you again? What if I run when things get hard?”
“Then we work through it,” Henrik says simply. “We communicate instead of shutting down. We go to couples therapy if we need help. We choose each other even when it’s scary. But Rory, you don’t get guarantees. You don’t get promises that we’ll never hurt each other. You just get me being honest about wanting to try, about being willing to work through the hard parts, about loving you enough to fight for us even when it’s terrifying.”
“I don’t know if I’m brave enough,” Rory whispers.
“You’re brave enough,” Henrik says firmly. “You ran here from the press box abandoning your job to check on me. That’s brave. You’ve been doing therapy working on your trust issues instead of just avoiding relationships. That’s brave. You’re here having this conversation instead of running away. That’s brave. You’re brave enough, Rory. You just have to choose to believe it.”
“I love you,” Rory says, the words coming easier now. “I’m in love with you. I’m terrified and I don’t know how to do this without destroying myself if it doesn’t work but I love you and I want to try. Actually try. Not just friendship. Actual relationship with all the vulnerability and risk that requires.”
“Say that again,” Henrik says, smiling despite the concussion and the bruised shoulder and the fact that his team is probably losing the playoff game while he’s in here with her.
“I love you,” Rory repeats. “I want to be with you. I want to stop being scared and just trust that you love me enough to work through the hard parts.”
Henrik kisses her then—careful because he has a concussion, gentle despite the intensity of emotion behind it, different from all their previous kisses because this one feels like choosing each other instead of just wanting each other.
“I love you too,” Henrik says when they finally separate. “And I promise to keep working on my commitment issues. To keep going to therapy. To choose you even when my career presents opportunities that conflict. To actually fight for us instead of just making grand gestures and giving up.”
“I promise to do the same,” Rory responds. “To work on my trust issues. To choose us occasionally instead of always choosing my career. To communicate instead of running when I’m scared. To actually be vulnerable with you instead of constantly protecting myself.”
They kiss again, longer this time, and when the team doctor knocks to check on Henrik they separate reluctantly.
“You should go back to the press box,” Henrik says. “Finish covering the game. Do your job.”
“Fuck my job,” Rory says, surprising herself. “I’m staying here with you. Making sure you’re actually okay. Choosing you over professional obligations for once.”
“I love you for saying that,” Henrik says. “But Rory, part of loving me is trusting that I can handle you doing your job. Go cover the game. Write your article. I’ll be here when you’re done. And then we can figure out what comes next.”
“You’re sure?” Rory asks.
“I’m sure,” Henrik confirms. “Go be the brilliant journalist I fell in love with. I’m not going anywhere.”
Rory kisses him one more time—quick and fierce and full of promise—and then forces herself to leave the medical area and return to the press box to finish covering the game that Chicago ends up losing in overtime, and she writes an article about the playoff elimination that includes appropriate analysis of Henrik’s injury and how it affected team performance, and by the time she’s filed it she’s exhausted and exhilarated and terrified and hopeful all at once.
She goes back to find Henrik after the game—he’s with Lucas getting a ride home since he’s not cleared to drive with the concussion—and Lucas takes one look at them together and grins.
“About fucking time,” Lucas says. “You two have been miserable without each other for months. Don’t fuck it up again.”
“We’re going to try not to,” Rory promises, and Henrik’s hand finds hers and holds on tight.
They go back to Henrik’s apartment and spend the night talking about what comes next—about going fully public now that there’s no professional conflict, about meeting each other’s families, about couples therapy to help navigate their respective trauma responses, about actually building a future together instead of just enjoying the present.
“I’m still scared,” Rory admits when they’re lying in Henrik’s bed just holding each other.
“Me too,” Henrik says. “But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”
“That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said,” Rory points out.
“Concussion,” Henrik defends. “I’m not responsible for my words.”
They fall asleep tangled together with the lights still on and clothes half-removed, and Rory thinks that this is it—this is choosing love over fear, this is actual partnership instead of self-protection, this is what she’s been too scared to reach for but is finally brave enough to claim.
She’s all in.
Finally.
Completely.
And that feels like freedom.
🔥
END CHAPTER 26
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