With a deep breath, she tapped her desk phone.
“Sasha? Can you come by for a minute?”
Sasha popped her head in a few minutes later, tablet in hand. “What’s up?”
Hillary hesitated, heart hammering. Then she gestured for Sasha to sit. “So there is something I have to tell you.” She said it so professionally, like she was about to tell Sasha about a work assignment. “I am dating Murphy. We have been for a while, and after the season, I’m going to let HR know. I just wanted you to know first.”
There she’d said it. She’d told someone.
There was a beat of silence. Then Sasha gasped, clapped a hand over her mouth, and broke into the widest grin. “Iknew it! I knew there was something going on between you two. God, Hillary, I should gloat, but—” she leaned across the desk, eyes sparkling, “—I’m just so happy for you.”
Hillary blinked, startled. “You’re happy?”
“Of course I’m happy! Murphy’s a golden retriever in hockey skates, and you . . . ” Sasha’s smile softened. “You deserve someone who looks at you the way he does. Honestly, it’s about time.”
Hillary let out a shaky laugh, the tension in her chest easing. She’d braced for judgment, for lectures about professionalism or their age gap. Instead, it was normal. Warm. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“So,” Sasha said, settling back in her chair with a grin, “tell me everything. How long? Where?”
Hillary couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. For the first time, it felt less like a secret and more like something real.
Sasha was still grinning, scrolling back on her tablet to pull up something when a knock sounded on the door.
Both women froze.
Hillary’s heart lurched, and then she heard the muffled, familiar voice:
“Hey, Boss, it’s me.”
Her pulse jumped. Murphy.
Sasha arched her brows and mouthedperfect timingbefore she scooted out of the chair and onto her feet. Hillary barely had a chance to answer before the door opened and Murphy stepped in.
He was dressed down in his team gear, hair a little damp, clearly freshly showered from lifting or drills. He had her coffee order in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. But his usual easy grin wasn’t quite there. It was more cautious, like he wasn’t sure how welcome he’d be.
“Got a few minutes before special teams,” he said, voice casual, but his eyes flicked between her and Sasha, wary. “Thought I’d stop by.”
Hillary stood, smoothing her skirt like that would help hide the way her cheeks were heating. “Of course.”
Sasha gave Murphy a once-over that was far too knowing and then, with a little clap of her hands, said, “Well, I’ll leave you two. Hillary and I were just finishing up.”
She breezed past him, tossing Hillary a conspiratorial smile.
That left Murphy standing there, shifting the bag to his other hand. “Did I… interrupt something?”
“No,” Hillary said quickly, stepping forward to take the coffee from him. “Not at all. Perfect timing, actually.”
He tilted his head, studying her, as though he could sense something had shifted but didn’t know what.
And maybe he was right. Because for the first time, she wasn’t carrying this secret alone.
Sasha was still hovering near the door, that grin plastered across her face. Murphy glanced between the two women, clearly confused.
Hillary sighed, deciding to just rip off the band-aid.
“I told her,” she said.
Murphy’s brow furrowed for half a second, then his whole face lit up. The grin spread wide, boyish and unrestrained. “You did?”
