Chasing the puck

Chapter Eighteen

Tyler woke up early, the faint rays of sunlight creeping through the curtains. The apartment was silent, the kind of peaceful silence that Tyler had longed for amidst the chaos of the past few weeks. Sarah was still asleep, her soft breaths barely audible, her body curled up against his side. He looked down at her, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and guilt.

Last night had been intense—physically and emotionally. Their reconnection had been like a balm for his soul, soothing the tension that had been building between them for weeks. But now, in the stillness of the morning, reality came creeping back in. The headlines, the media storm, the constant pressure… it was all still there, lurking just outside the door.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and stared up at the ceiling. As much as he wanted to believe that they were going to be okay, the weight of everything that had happened—and everything that was still happening—was suffocating. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with notifications he didn’t want to read.

Tyler sighed quietly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to disturb Sarah, not after the peace they’d found last night, but the anxiety gnawing at his gut was relentless. He glanced down at her again, taking in the way her hair spilled across the pillow, her face soft and peaceful in sleep. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the warmth of her presence, the way her hand rested lightly on his chest. But the tension in his chest wouldn’t go away.

Just then, Sarah stirred, her fingers lightly brushing his skin as she woke. She blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the light, and smiled softly when she saw him. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she stretched against him.

Tyler leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Morning,” he whispered back, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to hold onto the fleeting sense of peace.

Sarah shifted so that she could look up at him, sensing something was off. “You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly in concern.

He hesitated, then sighed again, his hand sliding up to brush her hair back from her face. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low. “Last night was… perfect. But now I can’t stop thinking about everything else. The scandal, the media… it’s all still there, waiting for us.”

Sarah’s expression softened, and she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him more clearly. “We’ll figure it out,” she said quietly, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. “We always do.”

Tyler wanted to believe her, but the doubt that had taken root in his heart was hard to ignore. “I want to believe that,” he said, his voice rough. “But it feels like no matter what we do, we’re just waiting for the next thing to come crashing down on us.”

Sarah sighed, her gaze drifting to the window where the sun was rising slowly, casting golden light across the floor. She felt the same weight pressing down on her, but she didn’t want to add to his worries. Last night had been a moment of calm amidst the storm, and she wanted to hold onto it for just a little longer.

But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation started to creep back in. Sarah shifted, reaching for her phone on the nightstand, and her stomach sank when she saw the notifications. Her editor had sent multiple messages, each one more urgent than the last.

She opened the latest email, her eyes scanning the text quickly. Her editor was pushing hard for more coverage on the new allegations against Tyler, demanding that Sarah dig deeper and find a new angle on the story. Sarah’s chest tightened, and she quickly closed the email, not wanting Tyler to see it.