Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~12 min read
Chapter 13: The Trade Possibility
POV: Carter Vaughn
The trade rumors start circulating two weeks after Priya cuts him off completely—two weeks of maintaining strictly professional distance at the rink, two weeks of Carter watching her treat other players while carefully avoiding him unless absolutely necessary for PT purposes, two weeks of the most miserable existence Carter’s experienced since his parents’ divorce finalized and taught him that love is just another word for inevitable destruction.
He hears about it first from his agent—phone call on a Tuesday morning, casual mention that Seattle’s been asking questions, that there’s interest from their GM, that nothing’s concrete yet but Carter should be aware that his name’s being floated in trade discussions as the deadline approaches.
“It’s probably nothing,” his agent says with the kind of practiced nonchalance that means it’s definitely something. “But if they make a serious offer, Boston might consider it. You’ve got value, you’re a strong captain, Seattle’s looking to rebuild their leadership core. Just wanted you to be in the loop.”
Carter thanks him and ends the call, and his first thought—his immediate, visceral reaction—is relief so intense it’s almost painful.
A trade would solve everything.
Would get him away from Boston, away from seeing Priya every day at work, away from the constant temptation to text her even though she’s made it clear she’s done, away from the reminder of everything he destroyed by being too scared to try.
He could start fresh in Seattle. New team, new city, new chance to pretend the last four months didn’t happen, new opportunity to go back to the safe emotional isolation he maintained before Priya Kapoor walked into his life and made him want things he’s still too terrified to reach for.
Relief.
That’s what he should feel.
That’s what makes sense given the situation.
Except underneath the relief is something else—something sharp and painful and growing with every hour Carter sits with the news, something that feels uncomfortably like devastation.
Because a trade wouldn’t just solve the problem of seeing Priya at work.
It would end everything completely.
She’d stay in Boston—her job is here, her life is here, her family is in the area and her best friend and her entire support system—and Carter would leave, would move across the country, would put three thousand miles between them instead of just the careful professional distance they’re currently maintaining.
He’d never see her again.
Never run into her in the PT office.
Never catch glimpses of her laughing with teammates.
Never have the option—however unrealistic—of fixing what he broke.
The realization hits Carter during practice on Wednesday—he’s running drills with Jamie, going through the motions while his mind spins through the implications of a potential trade—and suddenly he can’t breathe properly, can’t focus on the puck, can’t do anything except process the fact that leaving Boston means losing any chance with Priya permanently, irrevocably, completely.
“You okay?” Jamie asks when Carter misses an easy pass for the third time. “You’re playing like shit today.”
“Trade rumors,” Carter admits, because the team will hear about it soon anyway once the media gets hold of the story. “Seattle’s interested. Might get moved before the deadline.”
Jamie goes still, his expression shifting from concern to something more complicated. “A trade. To Seattle.”
“Yeah.” Carter retrieves the puck he missed, not meeting Jamie’s eyes. “Nothing concrete yet. But it’s a possibility.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
It’s a loaded question—Jamie knows about the Priya situation, knows that Carter’s been miserable since she cut him off, knows that a trade would mean geographical separation on top of the emotional separation that already exists—and Carter doesn’t know how to answer honestly without admitting things he’s not ready to face.
“It would be easier,” Carter says carefully. “Not seeing her every day. Getting some distance from the whole mess.”
“Easier,” Jamie repeats, skeptical. “Is that what you want? Easy?”
No. The answer rises immediate and certain—Carter doesn’t want easy, doesn’t want to run away, doesn’t want geographical distance to force what he’s been too cowardly to choose himself—but admitting that means admitting he wants Priya, wants a chance to fix things, wants to overcome his fear instead of letting it control his life.
“I don’t know what I want,” Carter lies, because that’s simpler than the truth.
Jamie looks at him for a long moment, then skates closer and lowers his voice so the other players can’t hear. “You know what I think? I think you want her. Want a real relationship with her. Want to stop running and actually try. But you’re too scared to admit it, so you’re telling yourself a trade would be easier when really it would just be you choosing fear over love again.”
The assessment is too accurate, too close to truths Carter’s been avoiding, and he wants to argue but the words stick in his throat because what if Jamie’s right? What if Carter’s been framing the trade as relief when it’s actually just another way to avoid confronting his feelings, another escape route, another choice to prioritize safety over vulnerability?
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Carter says instead of arguing. “Priya’s done with me. She made that clear. A trade wouldn’t change anything except making it final.”
“It’s not final until you’re in different cities,” Jamie points out. “Right now you work in the same building. See each other multiple times a week. There’s still a chance to fix things if you get your shit together. But if you take a trade to Seattle, that chance is gone. Permanently.”
The word “permanently” echoes in Carter’s head for the rest of practice, through the shower afterward, during the drive home where he sits in traffic and tries not to think about what permanent separation from Priya would actually mean.
Never seeing her smile at someone else and feeling jealous.
Never catching her scent in the hallway and having his heart rate spike.
Never having the option of apologizing properly, of doing the work to overcome his fear, of proving he’s capable of change.
Never having a chance.
Carter makes it home and sits in his empty apartment—the same apartment where Priya used to sleep over, where they had their first real date’s aftermath, where Carter rejected her confession and broke both their hearts—and lets himself sit with the reality he’s been avoiding.
He doesn’t want the trade.
Doesn’t want to leave Boston.
Doesn’t want permanent separation from the woman he’s been lying to himself about for months.
The realization should feel liberating—Carter finally admitting what he wants—but instead it just feels terrifying because wanting Priya and being capable of giving her what she needs are two different things, and Carter’s track record suggests he’s spectacularly bad at the latter even when he’s desperate to achieve it.
His phone rings: his agent again.
“Seattle’s getting more serious,” he says without preamble. “They’re talking about a formal offer. Probably won’t happen for another week or two, but I wanted you to know it’s progressing. How do you feel about Seattle? Good fit for you?”
How does Carter feel about Seattle? About leaving Boston and the team he’s captained for two years and the city he’s lived in for seven? About putting three thousand miles between himself and the woman he’s in love with even though he’s never said it out loud?
“I don’t know,” Carter admits. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Sure, but not too much time. If they make an offer, Boston will want to move quickly. Just—start getting your head around the possibility, okay? Big change, but could be good for your career.”
Good for his career maybe. Devastating for everything else.
Carter ends the call and sits in his dark living room trying to figure out what he actually wants versus what fear is telling him to want, trying to separate self-preservation from self-destruction, trying to determine if fighting for Priya is brave or just foolish when she’s already made it clear she’s done with him.
The panic sets in around midnight—Carter lying in bed unable to sleep, mind racing through scenarios of what happens if he takes the trade, how quickly he’d have to relocate, whether he’d even see Priya before leaving or if the last time they spoke would be her telling him they’re done outside the PT office two weeks ago.
That can’t be the end.
Can’t be the last real conversation they ever have.
Can’t be how this story ends—Carter running away to Seattle, Priya staying in Boston, both of them miserable and separated and never getting a chance to try again.
He sits up in bed, heart pounding with something that feels like terror and determination in equal measure, and admits the truth he’s been avoiding since the trade rumors started.
He doesn’t want this.
Doesn’t want to leave.
Doesn’t want permanent separation.
“Maybe I don’t want the trade,” Carter says out loud to his empty bedroom, testing the words, seeing if they feel true.
They do.
They feel more true than anything Carter’s admitted in months, more honest than all his excuses about not doing relationships and being too damaged by his parents’ divorce, more real than the fear that’s been controlling his decisions since Priya first confessed she was falling for him.
He doesn’t want the trade.
Wants to stay in Boston.
Wants a chance to fix things with Priya even though she’s told him they’re done, even though she’s cut him off completely, even though the odds of her giving him another chance are approximately zero given his track record.
But wanting her and knowing how to get her back are different problems, and Carter has no idea how to solve the latter—doesn’t know if apologizing again will make any difference, doesn’t know if promises to do better carry any weight when he’s already broken so many, doesn’t know if Priya’s capable of forgiving him for the hurt he’s caused even if he does the work to become someone worthy of her trust.
The only thing Carter knows for certain is that he can’t take the trade.
Can’t choose geographical separation over the possibility—however slim—of reconciliation.
Can’t let fear drive him away from Boston when staying is terrifying but leaving would be worse.
He texts his agent at one AM, knowing it’s too late but unable to wait until morning: If Seattle makes a formal offer, tell Boston I’m not interested in being traded. I want to stay.
The response comes surprisingly quickly: You sure? This could be a good opportunity.
I’m sure, Carter types back. Boston is where I want to be.
It’s the truth—maybe not the whole truth, maybe not addressing the real reason Carter wants to stay (Priya, it’s Priya, it’s always been Priya)—but it’s honest enough.
He’s not leaving.
Not running away.
Not choosing the easy escape over the hard work of facing his fear and trying to become someone capable of love.
The decision should feel settled, should bring relief now that Carter’s chosen to stay in Boston—but instead it just opens up the much harder question of what happens next.
Because staying in the same city as Priya doesn’t fix anything.
Doesn’t undo the hurt he’s caused.
Doesn’t make her willing to give him another chance.
Doesn’t transform Carter into someone capable of committing to the relationship she needs.
Staying just means Carter’s choosing not to run.
But standing still isn’t the same as moving forward.
And he still has no idea how to bridge the gap between where he is (terrified, broken, in love with someone he’s destroyed) and where he needs to be (brave enough to try, healed enough to commit, worthy of Priya’s trust and affection).
Jamie was right about the trade forcing clarity—the possibility of losing Priya permanently made Carter realize what he wants, made him admit he’s in love with her even if he’s too scared to say it to her face, made him choose staying over running even though staying is harder.
But clarity about what he wants doesn’t solve the problem of how to get it.
Doesn’t make Priya suddenly willing to forgive him.
Doesn’t fix the fundamental issue of Carter being too damaged to give her what she needs.
He spends the rest of the night lying awake trying to figure out next steps—should he try talking to Priya? Go to therapy like Jamie suggested? Give her more space before attempting contact? Make some grand gesture to prove he’s changed even though he hasn’t actually done the work to change yet?
By morning, Carter still doesn’t have answers.
Just knows that he’s staying in Boston.
That he loves Priya even though he’s never said it.
That potential separation forced him to confront what he’s been avoiding.
And that somehow, some way, he needs to figure out how to become someone worthy of a second chance even if Priya never gives him one.
The trade possibility crystallized what Carter wants.
Now he just has to figure out if what he wants is achievable or if he’s already destroyed his only chance at happiness with the woman he loves.
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