Hearts Intertwined

Chapter Twenty-Six

I wake up to the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the curtains, but instead of feeling refreshed, I feel a weight on my chest. 

I glance over at Ophelia, and I can tell right away that something's off. She's been restless all night, her breathing uneven, and I can't shake the worry gnawing at me. I want to reach out, to ask her what's wrong, but I know she'll talk when she's ready. 

As I get up, I can't help but feel a pull to stay in bed, to wrap my arms around her, and shield her from whatever is bothering her. But I have plans with Oliver for an early skate at the rink, something we've been looking forward to. 

I throw on my clothes, trying to focus on the familiar routine, but my mind keeps drifting back to Ophelia. She's lying there, pretending to be asleep, but I can see through it. I want to shake her awake and demand to know what's wrong, but I hold back. I know she'll open up when she feels comfortable. 

I head to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, hoping it will clear my head. I can still hear her soft sighs from the other side of the room, and it makes my heart ache. I finish getting ready, but the excitement of skating is overshadowed by my concern for her. I grab my keys and take one last look at her before I leave. 

I step outside and the crisp morning air hits me. I take a deep breath before walking over to my car.

The drive to the rink is usually my favorite part of the morning, the anticipation of gliding over the ice, but today it feels different. I can't shake the feeling that I should be there for Ophelia, that she needs me. However, I push the thoughts aside, telling myself I'll check in on her as soon as I get back. 

The roads are quiet, just the sound of my tires on the asphalt and the faint music playing from the radio. 

When I finally arrive at the rink, the familiar sight of the ice brings a small smile to my face. I step out of the car, but my heart isn't in it. I'm here for Oliver, but all I can think about is Ophelia. I hope she knows I'm worried about her, and that I care more than anything. I take a moment to collect my thoughts before heading inside, determined to enjoy the morning but knowing I'll be checking my phone for messages from her.

I pull up to Elmbrook's rink, the familiar sight of the building bringing a wave of nostalgia. I turn off the car and grab my skates from the backseat, feeling a mix of emotions, but I know I need this time on the ice. 

As I walk into the rink, the cool air hits me, refreshing and invigorating. I find a spot to sit and start putting on my skates, the laces tightening around my ankles bringing a sense of comfort. Before stepping onto the ice, I quickly shoot a 'good morning butterfly' text to Ophelia, hoping she's doing okay. 

Once I'm on the ice, I glide forward, the sensation of the cold beneath my blades making me feel alive. I skate for a good 5-10 minutes, losing myself in the rhythm of the movements.

Just as I'm starting to find my groove, I see Oliver walk in. He looks pretty rough—tired eyes, slumped shoulders, and his hair is a mess like he's run his hands through it a thousand times. I slow down, making my way over to him while staying on the ice. 

"Hey," I call out, trying to match his energy as he gives me a tired smile. It's good to see him, even if he doesn't look like he's had much sleep. 

I watch as he starts putting on his skates, the familiar routine grounding me in the moment.We do a few laps in silence, the sound of our skates slicing through the ice filling the space between us. It's a comfortable silence, but I can feel the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air.

Finally, Oliver breaks the quiet."How was Ophelia this morning?" he asks, glancing at me with concern in his eyes. 

I hesitate for a moment, thinking back to how she looked when I left."Uh, she was still asleep when I was getting ready, but she had a rough night," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. I don't want to worry him, but I can't pretend everything is fine.