The Sport Shooter Missed His Shot, Now a Skater Holds My Heart

I laughed bitterly, pointing straight at Lilith. “She came at me with that gun. I never even touched her!”

Lilith burst into sobs, cradling her hand. “Sabrina, I know you don’t like me, but why would you do this? I was just trying to be nice.”

Caleb’s expression darkened. He bent, picked up the gun and turned it toward me—pointed it at me.

I froze. The air thinned.

His eyes were cold. Unfamiliar.

His eyes were cold. Unfamiliar. Like I was looking at a stranger wearing my husband’s skin.

“Is this a joke to you?!”

“You think I’d believe an athlete—an Olympian-in-training—would accidentally pull the trigger?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Do you have any idea what it means if her hand is injured? What it could cost her career?”

My throat burned. “I told you—I never touched the gun!” I met his eyes, fury hot in my chest. “You believe her? Just like that?”

Caleb let out a bitter laugh, the kind that sounded like it hurt on the way out.

“You think Lilith would lie about this? She’s a national-level competitor. If her hand’s ruined, can you pay that price?!”

“So now what?” My voice cracked. “You’re gonna point a gun at me? Caleb—I’m your wife. Five years!”

He didn’t answer. His finger twitched.

Bang!

A plastic training round tore past my face. Heat exploded along the side of my head. A sharp, blinding pain bloomed in my ear.

I stumbled back, hand flying up.

Blood. My fingers came away red.

Caleb’s hand trembled slightly, as if even he hadn’t expected the shot to land.

He straightened, masking it behind a chilling calm. “Don’t mess around with things you don’t understand. That was just a warning.”

I laughed. It came out broken and tears blurred my vision.

“You’re right,” I whispered. “I don’t understand guns… and I sure as hell don’t understand you!”

Caleb flinched. For a brief second, something flickered in his eyes. Regret, maybe. Too late.

***

ER Waiting Room

The antiseptic air stung worse than the wound. I sat on a stiff plastic bench, ears ringing like a swarm of bees had taken up residence in my skull.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” The doctor leaned in, raising his voice.

I blinked, then nodded slowly.

“You’ve got a surface burn near the ear. You’re lucky—it didn’t rupture anything, but you’ll have ringing for a few days. Might scar, though.”

My fingers hovered near the wound. It was warm. Wet. Pain bloomed at the slightest touch.

“Do you have anyone we can call?”

My mind blanked, until all I could see was the image of Caleb walking away, Lilith clinging to him.

I felt something tear open in my chest.

I gave a soft laugh, bitter as ash. “They’re all dead.”

The doctor froze. Clearly, he didn’t know how to respond.

I smiled faintly, waved him off. “Just wrap me up. I’ll manage.”

When I stepped out of the room, I passed by another door left half-open.

Lilith’s voice drifted out—fragile, pleading.

“What if… what if I can’t shoot again, Caleb? What if my hand’s ruined? What will I do?”

His voice followed, low and steady. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. It’s a minor injury. You’ll recover.”

“But I’m scared…” Her voice cracked. “If I lose this… will you think I’m worthless? I won’t even deserve to stand beside you anymore.”

He sighed, voice softening. “Of course not. I’d never think that.”

He never asked if I was okay. Never looked for me. But here he was—soothing her like she was porcelain.

I turned to leave. But then—Lilith’s voice again, hesitant.

“Caleb… would you ever consider… letting me take over as your manager? I don’t need to be your wife. But can’t I stay by your side… even just as that?”

There was a pause.

Caleb murmured something I couldn’t make out.

And then—Lilith’s soft, triumphant laughter.

“I just want to stay near you, Caleb. You know I’d do anything for you…”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A text from my lawyer: Divorce finalized. Papers filed.

I exhaled slowly, then pulled the envelope from my bag and placed it at the threshold of their room.

When I walked out of that hospital, I didn’t look back. I went home, grabbed my bags and booked a one-way ticket out of the city.

“Caleb, let’s pretend I never walked into that shooting range seven years ago.”

“Let’s pretend we never met.”