“She’s good.” I can’t help the faint smile that creeps in. “Keeps me honest.”
Mom chuckles. “Someone has to. We always liked her.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Me too.”
She doesn’t comment on the pause, just says, “Safe travels back home, okay?”
When the line clicks off, I stare at the boarding sign across the gate, thinking about the waiting. The work. The what-ifs.
By the time I land back in Colorado, I’ve answered half a dozen texts from coaches and trainers. Everyone’s buzzing about the win. Conference Final. Still sounds good every time I think it.
The drive is a blur of highway and replayed highlights in my head. I pull into Erin’s driveway to pick up Sophie. I barely make it to the door before she’s already there, backpack slung over one shoulder, grin wide enough to light the porch.
“Dad!”
I scoop her in carefully, keeping the weight off my knee. “Hey, Soph.”
“You won!” she says into my chest, pulling back with bright eyes. “I stayed up for the whole thing. You looked so serious.”
“Someone has to,” I tease. “Couldn’t let the coaches take all the credit.”
She laughs, and just like that, something in my chest loosens. I thank Erin for watching her while we were on the road, then Sophie and I head out.
She talks the entire drive home—school, her upcoming musical, weekend plans with her mom. Vanessa’s supposed to pick her up Friday. She’s been counting down. I nod along and listen, just hoping this time won’t fall apart.
About halfway home, my phone rings through the truck’s speakers.
I sigh when I see it’s my agent again.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Hey,” Eric starts, too cheerful. “Following up on that charity skate next weekend. Sponsor’s still hoping you’ll do it. Have you thought any more about it? If you’re interested, I’ll loop in team PR to get medical clearance.”
Sophie perks up immediately. “Charity skate?”
I shoot her a look, keeping my voice even. “Not happening, Eric.”
“It’s family-friendly,” he pushes. “Kids, cameras. No skating, just you in skates for optics and your PT there monitoring. Good optics while the team’s prepping for the Conference Final. We don’t even know your matchup yet. The other series is tied. Could take a while.”
Sophie turns in her seat. “That sounds cool. You could be on the ice again.”
Eric chuckles through the speaker. “Smart kid.”
“I’m driving,” I cut in. “Call me later.”
I end the call before he can say anything else.
“I think you should.” Sophie is grinning, undeterred. “It sounds fun.”
I shake my head, can’t help the smile tugging at my mouth.
She hums along with the radio, tapping a rhythm on her thigh. For a few miles, it’s just road and headlights and my kid beside me, the way it should be.
That night, after Sophie’s in bed, I’m half-watching highlights when my phone buzzes.
It’s a text from Vanessa.
I take a deep breath before opening it.
