Murphy nodded immediately. “Okay. Whatever you need. I’ll do it.”
The ease with which he said it, the trust shown, made her chest tighten painfully.
This was her fault.
Every anxious thought, every whisper of scandal, every headline dissecting his expression, it all traced back to her letting her guard down. Letting herself want something she knew better than to touch.
Sasha stood. “I’ll coordinate with comms and legal. Murphy, you’re clear for the day. No socials. No statements.”
He rose, hesitating. “Hillary?”
She still couldn’t look at him.
“We’ll fix it,” she said quietly. “I promise.”
The door closed behind him, and Hillary finally let herself exhale.
She’d lost control of the narrative.
And worse, she’d dragged him down with her.
—
In the stillness of her quiet office, Hillary closed her eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. She should know exactly what to do. She always knew what to do. She had gotten too close to this situation. Distance was what she needed.
And yet, hours later, Hillary found herself standing in front of a tall condo downtown, staring at the door she’d sworn she wouldn’t knock on.
Her hand lifted anyway, and the soft rap of her knuckles carried all the weight of her confusion, her guilt, and the piece of her heart she’d tried so hard to bury.
Murphy answered the door with a wriggling golden retriever puppy held against his chest. For a second, Hillary forgot how to breathe.
“Hey,” he said, surprise flickering across his face. “Uh—do you want to come in?”
“Yeah,” she managed.
He stepped aside and she walked into the condo.
This was the first time she’d been here. All of their summer fun had been spent at her place. She’d expected a bare-bones bachelor pad, maybe sports gear tossed around, video game controllers on the floor. Instead, it was neat. Warm. Lived in.
The puppy wriggled free, padded over, and licked her hand. Hillary let out an involuntary laugh—the first one all day—and scratched behind his ears.
“Finn likes you,” Murphy said, soft, watching her.
Her chest tightened. “He’s adorable.”
“What do you need?” Murphy asked after a beat, his voice cautious but kind.
She straightened, forcing herself back into work mode. “I wanted to talk about the situation. And check in on you.”
“I’m okay. I just don’t want to make more work for you guys. If it weren’t for this ‘good boy’ image, it would be nothing but a blip.”
She blinked, startled by how steady he sounded, and how much calmer than she felt. “You’re taking this better than I am,” she admitted.
He shrugged. “I don’t mind laying low. I’m not here for media spots. I’m here to play hockey. As long as it’s not hurting the team or my deals, I’d rather just let it blow over.”
“You should probably talk to your agent. Your band deals that aren’t through the team might be upset.”
“I already talked to him,” he said with a small nod.
