Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
How would I feel if he’d hidden a secret that could affect my career? How would I feel if he’d shared so many intimate details with me, shared vulnerable moments with me, but still didn't trust me enough to tell me this vital part of his life?
I’d feel used and betrayed. It's not like I ever really came out and told him how much I cared about him, all in fear of rushing things or rejection.
“I'm guessing you told him about our relationship and he assumed that I was playing the dad card and trying to get rid of him?” Dad asks.
“Something like that,” I say.
“And now y'all two aren't talking?”
I shake my head, the ache in my chest intensifying. It’s only been three days, but I didn't realize how I’d gotten so used to being in contact with him every day. Getting his texts, hearing his laugh, listening to him groan during lessons and challenging me at every turn on the ice.
He’s done his best to avoid me, all under the guise of needing space, which I completely understood. Even during our fight, when he left, he didn't storm off. He hugged me and kissed me and let me know that he needed to get his head on straight. It was an endearing move that only he could manage, and I wasn't sure I deserved it.
“I should have just told him from the get-go,” I groan. “None of this would have happened if I would have just told him.”
“He'll come around,” Dad says. “If he doesn’t, he's an idiot. I don't really take him for one, but I've been proven wrong before.”
I force out a dark laugh. “So helpful, thanks, Dad.”
“Look, you may have made a mistake, but you decided to keep your connection to me a secret to protect your career and with damn good reason. Lawson should know that. He should know that it’s not just about him, it’s about the whole team.”
“The vets,” I say. “Stokehill, Torrington, Kiplin, Ritchford. They all know. And now he knows that they knew.”
“Ah, I see,” Dad says, nodding and folding his arms over his chest, causing his Badgers jumpsuit to shift. “That's part of it, isn't it,” he says. “Wolfe didn't like being one of the only ones in his friend group not to know. But that's not their fault, nor yours. You weren't part of this team until this year, and they knew you were my daughter the minute I became their coach. It's not fair to hold that against you.”
“Isn't it though?” I ask. “I had plenty of opportunities to tell him. Especially when I knew that we weren't just casual anymore.”
My father's studious gaze narrows on me. “Then why didn't you, honey?”
I sit with that for a few more moments, despite the fact that I've sat with it for three days straight. I know the answer, but I sound like a coward even when it’s only in my mind.
Oh well, here goes.
“I was terrified,” I admit. Tears gather at the back of my eyes, but I try to hold them back. “I was terrified because of the relationship that I’d been in too long and got out of what felt like too late. And I felt like I was just getting some semblance of independence back, some sense of self when Lawson kicked in my door. I didn't plan for him to happen, and I was afraid that if I allowed it to happen, I would fall right back into the same codependent pattern where my world revolved around a man.”
Dad nods, shifting off his desk and coming to sit in the chair right next to me. “That's a normal response,” he says. “Did you tell him that?”
“There wasn't much time for me to explain myself, especially when I didn't really even understand it myself. And he, understandably, wanted to get away from the situation before he lost his head.”
“That shows real maturity,” he says. “Even if he’s still being a jerk to you the last few days.”
“He's not being a jerk,” I argue. “He's just taking time.”
Silence falls between us for a few moments, but I already feel slightly better now that I know my dad had nothing to do with the Sharks meeting. Just talking things out with him always makes me feel better.
“You mentioned before that you loved him. Is that true?” he asks, and my eyes widen as I look at him. “It's an easy question honey. Do you love him?”
I can't bring myself to say the words out loud, mainly because I believe if somebody is going to hear them, really hear them, it should be Lawson, so I give my dad a nod.
He blows out an exaggerated breath, whistling on the end of it. “Then you need to tell him everything you told me,” he says. “You need to explain yourself truthfully, and if he's a good man, he'll understand your reasoning. He'll want to put in the work to move on.”