She nods. “I’m back to online lectures. It’s like early lockdown days.”
“But better, because there will be babies,” I offer, reaching out for the churning belly where I can see the babies’ little limbs poking out.
We lie in comfortable silence. I can feel the babies moving under my hand on her belly. Strong, healthy movements that make my chest tight.
Sloane moans appreciatively at my touch. “You’re always so warm.”
“Yeah.”
She places her hand over mine. “What are we going to name them?"
I smile. "I don't know. What do you want to name them?"
"Something strong. Something that means they can handle whatever life throws at them."
"Like their mother."
"And their father." She tilts her head to look at me. "I think you're the best man I've ever known. And I think I'm really lucky. And I think I'm still terrified but less terrified than I was yesterday."
"That's progress."
"Yeah." She yawns. "It is."
"Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She falls asleep within minutes, her breathing evening out, her body relaxing completely against mine. I stay awake, watching her, feeling the babies move, thinking about how close I came to losing this.
I won't make that mistake again.
I only leave the apartment for work. There’s a small cluster of photographers outside my building and the arena, but that’s nothing new, and I avoid them all. I don’t need my face in the news right now. I have shit to take care of.
Sloane is acing her classes and planning to take the spring semester off. My uncle said everything was handled with my contract. Literally, my entire focus can be the hockey I’m able to play and my little family tucked away in my loft.
So I’m a little surprised to find my agent waiting outside the locker room when I show up for morning skate.
“We need to talk, T-Stag.” Brian tips his head toward a meeting room down the hall. I arch a brow but follow him, as he never waits around for stuff like small talk or typical greetings.He tosses a folder on the desk in the room. “Do you have any idea what's been happening?"
"I've been taking care of Sloane."
"Right. Which is why you haven't been on social media or watching the news or answering any calls." Brian turns a tablet to show me. "This is what's been happening."
I look at the screen. It's a news article. The headline reads: “Enforcer Walks Out Mid-Game for Family Emergency—Team Threatens His Job."
"What the hell?"
"Keep reading," Uncle Tim says.
I scroll. The article details everything—me leaving the Boston game, Coach's threats, Sloane in the hospital. There are quotes from anonymous teammates supporting me. References to the lack of family leave policies.
"Who leaked this?" I ask.
"Several people, apparently," Brian says. "Teammates, arena staff, hospital workers. The story went viral."
He swipes to show me more articles. Pictures. Reels. Videos. All of them supporting me, criticizing the team, calling out the league for punishing players who prioritize family.
