And I think about the way I’ve handled the hard stuff in the past. And lately.
I take a short nap.
When I wake, I change into the suit I brought with me, swing by Charlotte’s school to pick her up, and say, “Want to help me with something, Miss Helpful?”
Always circumspect, she quirks a brow and asks, “What is it exactly?”
As she buckles up, I tell her.
In the rearview mirror, I can see her eyes widen. “That’s a good idea. I’d been meaning to have a chat with you, Dad.”
“I know, sweetheart. And I appreciate that.”
“I hope this cheers you up.”
“Me too, kiddo. Me too.”
We run a few quick errands on the way, then arrive at the arena. She heads straight to the kids’ lounge. Since we’re playing our cross-town rivals again, some of her friends are here as well. Tyler’s daughter is camped out in a big comfy chair, watching something on her laptop, his son is doing a puzzle and Rowan’s daughter is reading a book.
“Bye, Dad,” Charlotte says, practically pushing me out the door.
I’m glad she’s happy. It’s such a relief to know your kid is doing more than okay.
Now it’s time for me to fix my own shit. In the locker room, I march up to Lake, Riggs, and Miller, and say the hard thing. “I need help.”
“You take off your pants one leg at a time. Try it,” Miller says, nodding to me. “Go ahead.”
I roll my eyes. “No, seriously. I need to tell Mabel I love her. I need to tell her she’s the one. And I need to tell her something else too.”
It pains me to admit this, but I tell the guys how I’m feeling about it. “I have this plan. And I can’t do it alone. I think I need Remy’s help.”
Lake raises his hand so fast. “I’ll find her.”
I leave, march upstairs, and knock on Theo’s door. I haven’t spoken to him since the flight.
His jaw is clenched. He barely looks up from his computer screen. He’s pissed at me. Of course he is.
I square my shoulders. Speak clearly. “You were right. About everything.”
That piques his interest. He raises his face. “I know. What are you going to do about it?”
“Will you help me?” I ask, feeling horribly vulnerable.
“Depends.”
I tell him the plan.
He nods. “And you love her?”
“So much.”
“You’ll do right by her?”
“If she’ll have me.”
He blows out a breath. Leans back in his chair, sets his wingtip shoes on the desk. Parks his hands behind his head. “Guess you did need my blessing after all.”
For fuck’s sake. This guy. But I smile. “Fine. I did.”
