"Good." He nods approvingly. "Fear keeps you sharp. Makes you pay attention. The guys who aren't scared are the ones who make the worst mistakes."
I sink back into my chair, run both hands through my hair. "The team therapist says I should just maintain my routines.Keep showing up for practice, focus on hockey." I gesture at the whiteboard. "Like I can just compartmentalize having a son I never knew about."
"She’s not wrong," Sully says. "Structure helps. Gives you solid ground when everything else is shifting. Trust me on this—it'll help you."
"And more therapy," I add. "They're setting me up with someone who specializes in 'family transitions.' That's what they're calling this circus."
Sully nods. "Smart. Use every resource. Pride has no place in parenting."
I take a long sip of coffee, and let the bitter warmth linger before I swallow. "What do I do about Reese?"
Sully's eyebrows lift slightly. "What do you mean?"
“Well, she left the gala when everything blew up because she assumed the worst. She thought I knew and ignored it. She wouldn’t respond to my calls and texts for hours. I was afraid I’d lost her. I’ve never been scared of losing a woman before. Never. But eventually she responded. She came to my place. We talked. She listened. She believed me.”
"That tells you something about her character."
"Yeah, but for how long? We were just starting something real, and now there's a child involved. Another woman who'll always be in my life."
"So talk to her. Ask her what she needs. What she's willing to take on."
"I can't ask her to sign up for the mess I’ve created. It's not fair to her."
Sully leans forward, elbows on knees. "Let me tell you what's not fair. Making decisions for someone else because you think you know what's best for them. Assuming you know what they can handle."
His words hit their mark. I exhale slowly. "You're right. But how do I balance all of this? Hockey, a son I'm just meeting, a relationship that was already making me nervous because of how much it matters?"
"One day at a time." Sully's voice softens. "You set priorities: Tyler, hockey, Reese. Everything else falls away for now. You show up where you're needed most each day, and you don't beat yourself up when you can't be everywhere at once."
I nod, trying to absorb his advice. "Tyler, hockey, Reese."
"And yourself," Sully adds. "Can't pour from an empty cup. Take care of your own head."
He stands, his knees cracking loud enough for me to hear them. The sound reminds me that this man has lived an entire lifetime I'm just starting—raised children, built a hockey career as a player and coach, found his way through loss and change and uncertainty.
"You can do this, Mac. It won't be easy, and it won't be perfect, but you can do it." He moves toward the door, pauses with his hand on the knob. "And for what it's worth, the way you talk about Reese makes me pretty sure you have something worth fighting for."
After Sully leaves, I sit in the quiet video room, thinking about what comes next. A meeting with a son I've never met. A team counting on me to lead them through the season. A woman who saw the worst possible revelation about me and somehow, she's still willing to listen.
I pull out my phone. Reese's last text from this morning sits on my screen:School ends early today. Let me know when you want to talk.
I type back:Ready now. Come over?
Three dots appear immediately, then:Be there ASAP.
I stare at those three words. Be there ASAP. Not "let me think about it." Not "I need more time." Just coming.
Three days until I meet Tyler. Thursday. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I know this much: I'm going to show up. One day at a time, just like Sully said.
Chapter 13
Reese
The elevator opens directly into Logan's penthouse. He's standing by the coffee table, still in dress pants and his white shirt from this morning's meeting. The shirt's untucked, wrinkled. There's a coffee stain near the third button.
"Hi," I say, stepping out before I lose my nerve.
"Hi."
