Riley responded sheepishly to Clara’s playful teasing.
“Haha… I—I was just a kid back then, and, um… I was busy.”
Clara chuckled. “Busy? Right. Riley’s always been busy picking mushrooms every day. Are you still into that?”
“Yes,” Riley said with a small smile. “I’m aiming for the University of Toronto. I want to major in biomedical engineering — and I think I could do more research on mushrooms there too.”
“Wow! The University of Toronto! You must have incredible grades, Riley.”
As Clara pressed on the accelerator, the white Benz glided smoothly down the highway.
Outside the window, the airport shrank into the distance, and the towering skyline of downtown Toronto slowly rose into view. The sharp, urban beauty of glass and steel was a complete contrast to the sleepy town of Sudbury, where low buildings and endless grass were all she’d ever known.
“Honestly,” Clara sighed, turning the wheel, “our Aiden only cares about hockey. He doesn’t give two cents about school.”
Her voice was full of both affection and frustration. After a pause, Riley spoke hesitantly.
“Um… Mrs. McDavid, is that Aiden — the same Aiden who plays center for the Toronto Red Wings? In the CHL?”
“Oh my! You saw that game?” Clara exclaimed, eyes widening. “Yes, that’s my Aiden.”
She shook her head in disbelief, still sounding flustered by the memory. She cracked the window slightly, as if needing the fresh air.
“Honestly, I don’t know what got into him that day. He slew-footed someone and got penalized! Of all fouls, he had to pick one of the worst! Then he got chewed out by the coach and hit with an extra disciplinary action afterward. My goodness…”
Clara sighed deeply. She was clearly worried about her only son.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen with the NHL Draft, so he should really be focusing on college exams too….”
Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, she clapped her hands.
“Oh! Riley — you’re such a bright girl. How about teaching Aiden a few things? Maybe you could help him with his studies.”
Riley smiled politely. “Sure, if I get the chance.”
“When he was little, Aiden was such a timid boy — that was our biggest problem. But now that he’s hit puberty, he’s the complete opposite. Kids grow up so fast, don’t they? You too, Riley.”
Riley scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, her cheeks warm at the reminder of her childhood antics.
She had met Aiden when she was six, back when they were neighbors. But when Clara got transferred for work two years later, Aiden’s family moved to Toronto.
After that, he’d written Riley letter after letter — but she never wrote back. At the time, she’d found him more annoying than endearing.
And now, after nine years of silence, they were about to meet again.
“So… Aiden’s on the school hockey team too?”
“Of course. The Marshall Jackson Secondary hockey team is the Toronto Red Wings.”
“Wow,” Riley murmured. “So it’s a pretty elite hockey school?”
“Very much so,” Clara replied proudly. “Most schools don’t even have junior hockey teams. And those that do rarely play in the CHL.”
Before long, the car slowed to a stop in front of a two-story red-brick house nestled in the heart of downtown Toronto.
It was a modest home with a small garden — but given the city’s real estate prices, it was clear that even a house like this was far from cheap.
“Oh my, we’ve been chatting so much we’re already here!” Clara laughed.
As a successful lawyer, Clara lived a comfortable middle-class life. She wasn’t as wealthy as the Yoons, but she’d done well for herself — especially as a single mother raising her son alone.
“It’s smaller than your house in Sudbury, but it’s perfect for three people,” she said warmly as she parked the car in the garage.
“I’m so happy to have you here, Riley. Let’s get along well, okay? Come on, I’ll show you your room first.”
Riley followed her inside, dragging her suitcase along. The red-brick house with its gray roof looked simple on the outside, but the interior gleamed with white marble and soft light.
“This is your room, Riley. It’s on the second floor. Cozy, right?”
They climbed the stairs, and Clara opened a door to a bright little room. It had once been used for storage, but Clara had personally cleaned and decorated it for her guest.
“Wow, it’s beautiful,” Riley breathed, smiling as sunlight poured through the window.
“I’m glad you like it,” Clara said, patting her shoulder. “Aiden’s got hockey practice, so he’ll be home later this evening. You must be tired — unpack and rest a bit first.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Clara smiled, gave Riley a gentle pat on the back, and left the room.
Click.
As the door closed, Riley exhaled in relief and flopped onto the bed. Everything felt new and strange — but the idea of starting over in a big city thrilled her just a little.
“Haaah… I’m exhausted.”
Her heavy eyelids drooped, and before she knew it, sleep took her.
When Riley woke again, soft chirping echoed from the open window. She rubbed her eyes, blinking at the darkening sky.
“Oh no, it’s already evening,” she muttered. “The sun’s down.”
She’d arrived around one in the afternoon — which meant she’d been out for nearly four hours.
Stretching, she spotted a folded note on the bedside table.
Riley, you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. How about pulled-pork poutine and lamb stew for dinner tonight? I’m going grocery shopping. Please take care of the house while I’m gone. — Clara
Smiling faintly at the neat handwriting, Riley got out of bed.
“It’s hot… and I’m so thirsty.”
Still drowsy, she walked down the quiet stairs. The house was peaceful — until the faint sound of running water reached her ears.
Shooooo…
She frowned at the tightly closed bathroom door.
“Mrs. McDavid’s already back?” she murmured.
“Riley!”
Startled, she turned toward the voice — it was Clara, but from the kitchen, not the bathroom.
“…Mrs. McDavid?”
Clara smiled from across the counter, unloading grocery bags.
“You’re awake! I went to the supermarket, but can you believe it? They were out of lamb today of all days! I really wanted to make lamb stew for you. I’ll have to make beef stew instead. Don’t worry though — it’s one of my specialties.”
“Oh, really? I’m… looking forward to it,” Riley said with a nervous smile, glancing again at the bathroom door. The water was still running.
“But weren’t you… taking a shower?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“Then who’s in the bathroom…?”
“Who?”
The words had barely left Clara’s mouth when—
Click.
The bathroom door opened.
And Riley’s eyes went wide.
Standing there, fresh from the shower, was Aiden McDavid.
He wore only a pair of sweatpants, a towel slung loosely around his neck. Water dripped from his messy, dirty-blond hair down to the muscles of his bare chest and shoulders.
For a second, Riley froze — staring up at him like she’d seen a ghost.
The image of the little boy from her memories — small, pale, and tearful — overlapped with the tall, sculpted man before her.
Why… why is he so tall?!
Aiden stood well over 185 centimeters now, broad-shouldered, confident, completely unlike the timid boy she used to boss around.
His clear, lake-blue eyes met hers, sharp and steady — and for some reason, Riley’s heart gave a small, startled thump.
“Oh my, Aiden!” Clara cried, laughing. “You can’t just walk out like that when there’s a lady in the house!”
The awkward silence shattered instantly. Clara cheerfully guided Riley toward him.
“Aiden, you remember Riley, don’t you? I told you she’d be staying with us from today.”
Aiden, half into his T-shirt, tilted his head slightly and studied her. Riley bit her lip, heat rising to her ears.
“What are you two doing?” Clara teased. “Say hello and be friends again!”
She gave Aiden a playful pat on the shoulder. For a brief moment, the corner of his mouth curved into a faint, teasing smile.
“Hi,” he said.
Riley froze.
Aiden extended a large, steady hand toward her. His fingers were long, his grip sure — and Riley could see faint veins tracing up his arm.
She hesitated, unsure what to do, until his low, amused voice brushed against her ears.
“Long time no see, Universe.”
Riley’s heart skipped. Her ears turned bright red.
That name — the silly, affectionate nickname he’d once used in his childish letters — the one she’d long forgotten.
Yooniverse.
And in that single word, every forgotten memory came flooding back.
