Page 116 of Thin Ice

I exhale a long breath. “Have I told you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

She leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’m grateful to have you, too.”

The gong sounding outside warns me that I’m late for my session with Quinn and Noah. I push off the couch, and Hazel stands with me, walking me to her front door.

“Can I say one more thing before you go?”

“Of course.”

“Make them work for you, Beck. No matter what happens, don’t sell yourself or what you offer them as a partner short. If it’s what you choose, I want you to build something with them that will last, not just a fling that fades when the structure of the retreat is gone.”

I let her words settle into me and know she’s right. “Thank you, Hazel. I needed to hear that.”

“You’re welcome. Now get out of here before they come searching for you.”

I huff a laugh and quickly kiss her cheek, bidding her farewell. With each step toward my bungalow, I infuse my body with confidence and pep talk my way through any fears that try to work their way back into my mind.

Hazel is right. I’m not the Beck that Noah walked away from ten years ago. I told myself before this started I wouldn’t be a doormat, and I’m not going to be.

I’m a grown man who knows what he wants and what he deserves, and it’s time I prove that to myself once and for all. Even if that means I walk away from this retreat without the two people who unexpectedly worked their way into my heart.

Chapter thirty-seven

Quinn

Beck is off. I thought he acted funny when he left Noah and I this morning so suddenly, but as the day went on, I was even more convinced. Not only because we didn’t see him once all day, not even at meals, but he was also a few minutes late meeting us at his bungalow for our current session.

When he arrived, he ushered us inside and told us to sit on the yoga mat in the living room back-to-back. And by the way he’s acting, you never would have guessed what happened between us last night and this morning—let alone the fact that we’ve gotten close to him over the last week.

I breathe slowly through my nose to keep myself from getting too worked up. Noah assured me before that Beck’s working when he’s with us, but I can’t shake that it’s more than that.

“Quinn, I’ll give you a prompt first,” Beck says from his position on the couch. “Noah, continue to match her breaths, feeling where your back and shoulders are connected. Don’t interrupt, just listen. When she’s done, you can respond with what you hear, no added commentary.”

“Okay” we both agree.

“Good,” he says. “Quinn, share one fear you’re carrying in this relationship right now that you don’t usually say out loud. Speak as if Noah isn’t here to respond yet. Just let it out.”

I twist my folded hands in my lap, unsure of what I want to say. When we arrived here, my answer would have been simple: I was afraid that Noah and I no longer had a spark and our relationship was stagnant. I was unhappy, and I thought that maybe we’d have to accept that and move on. But that’s not the truth anymore.

“You’ve got this, Sunshine,” Noah says, the warm timbre of his voice vibrating through our backs where they touched. “Say what you need to say.”

Happiness wells in my chest at his assurance. The man that came here with me is not the man seated behind me. He’s listening, paying attention, and everything about him is softer and calmer—even in moments of panic.

I inhale and exhale with him, and it takes me a second to realize what I need to say. “The fear I have is that when we leave here, everything will go back to the way it was, especially when hockey season starts again. That this will have been for nothing.”

I expect Noah’s breathing to hitch or to get shorter at my confession, but he remains calm and steady. The heat of his back against mine is grounding, even as my stomach twists.

“Good, Quinn,” Beck praises evenly. “Stay with what you’re feeling. Noah, take a slow breath and reflect back what you heard her say.”

Noah is quiet for a moment. His spine shifts slightly against mine as he processes before he speaks. “I heard you say you’re scared that once we leave the retreat, we’ll slip right back into our old routine, especially when hockey season ramps up again. You’re worried I will stop seeing you—the Quinn I didn’t see before.”

The accuracy of it hits me harder than I expected, and my eyes water.

“Thank you, Noah. Now, Quinn, does that reflection feel complete, or is there anything you want to add?”

I swallow. “Yes, but it’s more than just the routine of it all. I’m scared I’ll go back to feeling like I’m competing with hockey for your attention, and that when you’re faced with work again, it will be easy to ignore everything we’ve shared here.”

A long beat of silence follows, and to my surprise, Noah follows the directions, not trying to tell me I’m wrong or that he won’t do those things. He just listens and takes it in, his breathing steady and reassuring.