“Drakos, what’re you going to do about this?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you don’t mind a little unsolicited advice, I suggest you get an attorney.”
I shake my head. “I need to go. This is a lot to take in. Thanks.”
She hands over a folder full of the information she uncovered. I take it and hustle my ass out of there. I’m confused and conflicted and have never felt so helpless in my entire life. We don’t play again for three days, for which I’m grateful. I need time to sort this revelation out in my head and develop a plan.
* * *
A few hours later, I’m in the weight room, taking my frustrations out a stationary bike. My head hurts, my heart aches for the little boy I never knew as a baby, and my life is forever changed.
I’m a dad. A fucking dad. I have a son, and I desperately need to be a part of his life. I have to make up for lost time.
Yet I don’t know how to proceed in a manner that’ll do the least amount of damage to Noah.
“You’re looking unusually distressed for a guy who’s made it to round two of the playoffs.” Kirby stands in front of me. I’d been concentrating so hard on not thinking, I didn’t see him enter the room.
“I thought I was alone in here.” I swing my leg over the bike seat and grab a towel to wipe the sweat from my face.
“You were in your own little world. What’s going on?” Kirby’s gaze penetrates to my very soul, seeing things I don’t want him to see.
I shake my head, unable to articulate in words how I feel.
“Does this have to do with Michella’s news?”
“Yeah.”
Kirby cocks his head and regards me carefully. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Maybe later.” I throw the towel in a basket and leave the room. I feel Kirby’s eyes burning into my back long after I shut the door behind me.
I shower and change, then check the time. My feet carry me to Rink Three where the little kids are just starting practice. Thankfully, I don’t see Aria anywhere, but I do see Gardenia. She shoots a scathing glare in my direction, and I wonder what I’ve done to her. Does she know and blame me?
Ignoring the animosity radiating off Banger’s fiancée. I make my way down the bleachers until I’m in the first row. I ignore the curious stares from the parents. I only have eyes for Noah.
My son.
The son I never knew I had.
Aria and her sister kept this secret from me. But why? Why deny a son the right to know his father? Why all the hatred directed at me when no one gave me a chance to prove myself as a dad? I can be a dad. I know I can.
I’ll do the right thing. I want to be part of my boy’s life in the worst way.
I take in my kid as if seeing him for the first time. My conscious mind now understands what my subconscious knew all along. He’s the spitting image of me when I was his age, right down the blond hair and blue eyes. He even has some of my hockey moves, though not as refined, which is to be expected of a young boy.
I’m bursting with pride yet filled with deep regret for the time we’ve lost together. He looks like me, acts like me, is a part of me I never knew about. I’m angry at Aria, resentful of her secrecy, yet I know alienating her further limits my time with my son until I get things straightened out legally. First things first, I’ll demand a paternity test. Aria’s gonna love that.
When the kids finish practice, I escape through a side door in order to avoid Aria, who’ll be in the facility to pick up Noah. I don’t want to talk to her until I have a plan.
I walk toward the player lounge, but no one’s inside. I don’t want to be alone right now. I need company and distractions, not sitting at home fretting about what my next moves are. I’ll do enough of that later.
I sit down in one of the cushy theater seats and queue up our last game. I analyze myself. I’m playing well, having gotten the earlier monkey off my back about the same time Aria stopped criticizing me. Her replacement doesn’t have her clout or social media presence, and I couldn’t care less what he says.
The door opens to the lounge, and Wild enters. Talk about fate. He’s just the guy I need to talk to and might be the only one who’ll understand my current dilemma.
He grins and plops down next to me. “We’re peaking at just the right time.” He indicates the game on the big screen.
