Then: "Damn."
"Patricia says fighting will destroy my career. The optics alone will be horrible."
"Screw the optics. You're innocent. We’ll prove it."
That's Rowan, his voice sharp through the phone. Riley must have put me on speaker.
"With what? He's been covering his tracks for years. Rowan, you know how thorough he is."
"Then we find something he missed. There's always something." But he sounds less certain than usual.
"What if there isn't?" My voice lowers in defeat. "What if he's finally beaten me?"
"Don't you dare give up." Riley's voice cracks. "We've survived worse than this. We survived losing Mom and Dad. We survived you raising us while building your career."
"This is different. It could destroy everything I've sacrificed for." I grip the counter hard. "And for what? So I can try to win back a woman who doesn’t want me?"
"Is that what this is about?" Riley asks quietly. "Ivy?"
I close my eyes. My last encounter with her plays on repeat: Ivy's face and the devastating finality in her voice when she told me we were done.
"She blocked my numbers. She wants nothing to do with me."
"Because you lied to her while letting Gregory control your life," Rowan says bluntly.
"I know that."
"If you know that, why are you doing the same thing? You’re letting Gregory win by protecting your image instead of fighting for what's real."
The words hit like a slap. "That's not fair."
"Dec, I love you. We both do,” he says voice softening. “But you've been letting Gregory dictate your life since you were nineteen. At first it was cool because we were teenagers and you needed to put a roof over our head and keep us together while building your career. But now, we’re adults, Dec. Yet you're so afraid of losing your career that you're willing to lose everything else that matters."
"My career is what keeps you in school. It's what paid for Mom and Dad's funeral."
"We don't care about the money." Riley's voice is fierce, angry. "We care about you. And watching you destroy yourself to protect some image that isn't even real is killing us."
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.
Because she's right.
Everything I've done has been about maintaining an image. The playboy persona Gregory crafted. The charity appearances. The staged relationships. Even the way I separated King from Declan with Ivy was about showing different versions of myself instead of being whole.
And it cost me the only woman I've ever loved.
"I have to go," I say. "We've got a game tonight."
"Declan…"
I hang up.
***
The locker room is too quiet.
We're tying 1-1 in the playoff series. The energy should be electric, everyone focused and ready to fight. Instead, it feels like a funeral because everyone knows I'm the reason we might lose.
I pull on my jersey, the fabric rough against my skin. My hands lace my skates. Around me, guys go through their pre-game rituals but nobody's talking to me. They’ve not looked at me directly since I arrived.
