She said it so faintly I couldn’t tell if it was meant for me or just slipped out by accident.
It wasn’t something she planned to confess.
And in that one moment, I saw exactly where the hurt lived.
She stared at me, but it was past me, eyes unfocused, voice barely hanging on.
“It’s been me for a long time,” she said. “And I’ll admit I haven’t been honest about how much I miss my dad. I love what I do… but I do it harder now because... I miss him so much. I thought by now I’d have his attention. And I know that’s childish, it's so stupid. I’m an adult, but I miss my daddy. I miss how it was. I often think about just packing up and going home because…”
As soon as she said it, my body reacted before my mind did. I crossed the space and lifted her into my lap, holding her close, kissing the side of her head like that slight touch could ease what she’d been carrying.
“When I think about it,” she whispered, voice shaking, “he went quiet after I left. Switched up. Stopped talking much. Stopped being my dad. And I just kept working. I thought… maybe if I did enough, if I pushed enough… he’d come back. But the truth is… he might actually resent me for leaving.”
She shook her head, angry at herself for saying too much.Her shoulders dropped, and the tears she’d been holding back flowed freely. I didn’t like seeing her in this state.
“That’s why I didn’t stop. At the fire. At work. Anywhere. I’m still trying to be enough. For him.”
That one cut me open.
Because I knew that feeling.
Knew exactly how it warped your insides when you loved somebody who didn’t know how to love you back at the right time.
Two minutes later, she was asleep again—deep and still, breathing soft and steady. I kept my arms around her, chin resting on her head, staring into the dark while my mind drifted to places, I didn’t want it to go. The longer I sat there, the harder it was to dodge what was sitting right in front of me. And I hated the truth that was starting to take shape.
Halo didn’t burn herself out because she needed adrenaline. She was trying to be seen. Trying to earn back the father who once watched her with pride in his eyes. She’d been chasing that man ever since he shut down.
She wasn’t battling flames. She was battling the silence he left her in. The ache of being invisible to the one person she thought would never stop showing up. And no matter how tough she was, no matter how hard she pushed, she was losing—because you can’t outwork a wound like that.
The restraint I used to have with her no longer existed. I wasn’t about to sit back and watch my woman burn herself alive trying to earn a hug she shouldn’t have to beg for. The fuck I look like.
That’s when I made up my mind. Before the playoffs started, before everything got busy, before she retreated, I was bringing her father back into her life.
Not to fix her and not to force anything, but because I loved her too damn much to watch her be in pain when I had the means to give her the world.
Huey Grant was going to see his daughter again, even if I had to walk that nigga to her myself.
Losing Devyn changed the shape of my entire life. People talk about grief like it’s an event, but really it’s a damn echo. It stretches. It shifts. It shows up on good days just to remind you it’s still somewhere in the corner. Halo didn’t understand that part yet. But I saw her dad drowning in it from miles away. And I saw her drowning too, in the silence between them.
A few days later, I called the Coupeville firehouse and got transferred to Huey Grant’s personal cell. I typically wasn’t nervous, but I hadn’t met or talked to anyone’s parents since Devyn, and even then, it was quick. I was about to go to the league; her people would’ve accepted me no matter what. It was who they were. Huey wasn’t with it, although he was a big fan; hesounded irritated as hell to hear from me, the man loving his daughter. I didn’t go into all that. I kept it G, man-to-man.
“Sir, I love your daughter,” I told him. “And she loves you. But she’s hurting. I’m overstepping in a way, but there’s one thing I can’t give her, and that’s your love. So I don’t really care about your attitude, real talk.”
“Son, this is family business. You have no idea what you involving yourself in. I can’t come. I can’t. Guilt has eaten me alive. It’s best I stay away.”
“Listen, I lost my wife too,” I said, “and Imma say this with as much respect as I can. It’s time to drop your nuts and come see about your daughter, who just got released from the hospital, by the way.”
“What? When?”
“Look, you can come willingly, or I can send someone for you. No disrespect, it’s my way or… my way when it comes to her. Everybody gotta fall in line, including you.”
Silence stretched long as hell.
Then softly all the fight seemed to have left him.
“When?”
“My final home game,” I said. “She’ll be there. I’ll send my plane for you. I’ll make sure you are well taken care of.”
