I stayed. Who wouldn’t, when you had the best gentleman at your fingertips?
When I woke, the morning light peeked through the curtains. My cheek rested against Sean’s chest, the scent of lemon and linen wrapping around us. His arm was draped over me, fingers curled as if he hadn’t let go all night. If anyone had told me a man this patient existed, I wouldn’t have believed them.
The excitement from last night still hummed under my skin. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he opened his phone and saw what Tahoe West Media had lined up. But more than that, his words from yesterday morning echoed in my head.Falling harder for you again and again.
I closed my eyes and savored the warmth beneath me. I didn’t want to be the version of me that tiptoed around approval anymore. I wanted to meet him, strength for strength.
When I peeked up, his eyes were already open, watching me.
I smiled. “Hi.”
He hummed in response.
“Can I ask you something?” I murmured, voice still sleep-soft.
Another hum.
“You said once that someone helped you when you were a rookie. That they didn’t let your dad’s mess define you. How did you do that—how did you not let it take your thunder?”
Sean’s chest rose beneath my cheek, then fell slowly. He was thoughtful, as if reaching back through time to find the right thread.
“I didn’t,” he said finally. “Not at first.”
I lifted my head slightly to see his face.
His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. “My dad didn’t threaten or punish. He used charm and guilt, as if I owed him for every good moment. And when things fell apart, I thought it was because I wasn’t enough to hold it all together.”
My fingers curled against his chest, feeling the slow thud beneath.
“I was sharp on the ice, clueless off it. I didn’t know how to separate his chaos from my own identity. I kept making myself small to make him comfortable, until one of my coaches stepped in.”
“The mentor?”
He nodded. “He saw the signs, pulled me aside, and gave me space to talk. But more than that—he showed me a different way to carry the weight. He didn’t try to fix my dad, he helped me stop trying to fix him too.”
I swallowed, the lump in my throat sudden and full.
“He told me I wasn’t my father’s shadow, that I was my own damn light. I didn’t believe him at first. But every time I showed up, every time I followed his lead, it chipped away at the shame and the guilt. Eventually, I stopped flinching when people said his name or when I had to drag him from a bar.”
I pressed my forehead to his collarbone, letting the words settle.
“That’s what you did for me,” I whispered. “Reminding me to live, not just survive.”
His hand slid up my back, slow and steady. “I didn’t do anything you weren’t ready for. You already had that fight in you. You only didn’t realize you were allowed to take up space. You needed someone to blow the whistle and say, ‘you’re your own person’.”
I blinked hard. “I can’t believe it took me twenty-eight years to finally pull free from my mom’s hold.” I shook my head, still amazed. “It was as if fog had settled over my head, and now it’s finally cleared. I stayed compliant, thinking confidence meant I was crossing the line.”
“You were conditioned without knowing,” he said. “They twist the rules. Different methods, same result—taking up your space so they appeared bigger.”
I nodded against him.
“You’re not only beside me, Mel. You’re with me.” He lowered his voice. “It goes beyond closeness. You’re mine.”
I tightened my arms around him. “This helps me understand the inside stuff… but how did you make your dad see it? I don’t want to cut my mom out of my life—if I can help it.”
“That makes sense.” He paused, thoughtful. “More than anything, it’s about figuring out what you can live with.”
He glanced down at me. “The mentor convinced my dad to keep his drinking out of the public eye, and pointed out how my career was at risk.”
