The Accidental Fate.

Chapter 17: A familiar face.

Nate. 

I woke up to the familiar hum of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Another early morning, another day packed with training and team meetings. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through messages. My eyes lingered on the last few texts I'd sent to Rosie. She hadn't responded to any of them, and it was starting to bug me. She had been acting weird, ghosting me for days now. I wasn't sure what was going on, but with the recent incidents of black roses and cryptic notes, I couldn't help but worry about her safety.

I sighed and got out of bed, ready to start my day. After a quick shower and a protein shake, I headed to the rink. The ice was my sanctuary, the place where everything else faded away. As I laced up my skates, I noticed Danson sitting alone on the bench, looking lost in thought. It was rare to see him these days, with all that was going on with his girlfriend and the pregnancy.

"Hey, Danson, good to see you," I said, clapping him on the back.

He looked up and forced a smile. "Hey, Nate. Just trying to keep my head in the game."

"You're gonna be okay, you know. It's a lot to handle, but you'll figure it out," I reassured him.

"Thanks, man. It's just... everything's changing so fast," he admitted, his voice tinged with anxiety.

"I get it. But you've got a team here, we're all behind you," I said, hoping to ease his worries.

Danson nodded, looking a bit more at ease. "Thanks, Nate. I appreciate it."

We hit the ice, running drills and practicing plays. The intensity of practice helped clear my mind, but thoughts of Rosie kept creeping back in. Why was she avoiding me? I hadn't done anything to upset her, at least not that I was aware of. I decided to text her again, hoping she'd finally respond.

Nate: Hey, Rosie. Just checking in. Hope everything's okay. Miss talking to you.

After practice, I headed to the gym with a few of the guys. Lifting weights and pushing myself physically was another way to drown out the noise in my head. As we worked out, Adrian joined us, a smirk on his face.

"Hey, Nate. You still trying to figure out what's up with Rosie?" he asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Yeah. She's been MIA for days now. No idea what's going on," I replied, frustration creeping into my voice.

"Give her some space. She'll come around," Adrian said, trying to sound reassuring.

"I hope so. It's just not like her," I muttered, focusing on my next set.

I moved over to the boxing area, wrapping my hands and putting on the gloves. Boxing had always been a hobby of mine, a way to release pent-up energy. I started working on the heavy bag, each punch helping to clear my mind. The rhythm, the impact, it was all therapeutic in a way.

Adrian joined me, hitting the bag next to mine. "You're hitting that thing like it owes you money," he joked.

I laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Later, I decided to check in on my dad. He'd been in the hospital recently, and our last interaction hadn't been great. We had a strained relationship, much like Rosie and her dad. High ego, stubbornness—it ran in the family.

I drove to the hospital, trying to mentally prepare for another confrontation. My dad was as tough as nails, and our conversations often ended in arguments. But I needed to see him, to make sure he was okay.

Walking into his room, I found him sitting up in bed, flipping through a newspaper. He looked up, his expression hard.

"Nate," he said, acknowledging me with a curt nod.

"Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?" I asked, taking a seat beside his bed.

"I've been better. But I'll manage," he replied gruffly.

We talked about mundane things—the weather, the latest hockey scores. It felt like we were dancing around the real issues, neither of us willing to dive deeper.

"Dad, I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I'm here for you," I said, trying to bridge the gap between us.

He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. "I don't need your pity, Nate. I've managed this long without it."

"It's not pity. It's about being there for family," I said, hoping to find some common ground.

He grunted, looking away. "You've got your own life to worry about. Don't waste your time on me."

We sat in silence for a moment, the tension thick in the air. "I'll be back to check on you," I said finally, standing up.

"Do what you want," he replied, his tone dismissive.

As I left the hospital, I couldn't help but think about how much easier it was to support my teammates than to navigate my own family dynamics.

On the drive home, I passed by a park and noticed a little boy playing with a hockey stick. He looked so familiar. I slowed down, realizing it was Michael. My heart skipped a beat. What was he doing here?

I pulled over and watched him for a moment, my mind racing. He was so engrossed in his game, unaware of anything else. I stepped out of the car, feeling an inexplicable pull to talk to him.

"Hey, champ. You got some good moves there," I called out, walking over to him.

Michael looked up, his eyes wide with surprise and excitement. "Thanks! I'm practicing to be as good as Nathaniel Hart!"

I chuckled, feeling a strange mix of pride and confusion. "Well, you're off to a great start."

We chatted for a while, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something special about this kid. He reminded me of myself at that age, full of dreams and determination. As we talked, I noticed Rosie approaching, her expression a mix of shock and apprehension.

"Nate, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I was just driving by and saw Michael. We were having a little chat," I explained, trying to read her reaction.

She nodded, her eyes darting between me and Michael. "We should get going, Michael. Say goodbye to Nate."

"Bye, Nate! Thanks for the tips!" Michael said, waving enthusiastically.

"Anytime, buddy. Keep practicing," I replied, watching them walk away.

Rosie barely acknowledged me, her behaviour adding to my confusion. It was as if she was in a hurry to get away. Something was definitely off, and I needed to know what it was. 

As I drove home, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. There was something about Michael, something that tugged at my heart in a way I couldn't explain. And Rosie's reaction had only added to my confusion. What was she hiding?

Back home, I decided to text Rosie one more time.

Nate: Rosie, we need to talk. There's something going on, and I need to understand what it is. Please, just let me know you're okay.

I hit send and hoped for a response. Whatever was happening, I needed to get to the bottom of it. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this story than I knew. And I was determined to find out what it was.