So, small victories.
The next hour is a blur of handshakes, small talk, and me pretending I’m not cataloging every threat in the room like I’m preparing for a playoff game.
Chloe’s parents arrive—James and Patricia Dawson, normal people from a small town. Her dad’s wearing a casual polo, and her mom, a sweater over slacks.
“Brody Kane!” James pumps my hand enthusiastically, grinning like he just won the lottery. “This is incredible. My wife and I have been following your career for years. That defensive play you made in Game Six against Chicago last season? Unbelievable.”
He remembers a specific play from last year’s playoffs?
I relax slightly. “Thank you, sir. That was a good game.”
“Good game? You shut down their entire power play in the third period!” He turns to his wife. “Patty, remember? We were screaming at the TV.”
Patty laughs, squeezing Chloe’s shoulder affectionately. “James wouldn’t stop replaying it on his phone for a week. Our son Devon played hockey in high school—left wing.” She gestures across the room toward a man with dark curly hair and the petite blonde tucked under his arm. Devon and the wife, presumably. “Not professionally, of course, but we’ve been hockey people forever. Small-town Minnesota, you know. Friday nights at the rink.”
“Maple Lake, right?”
“That’s right! You been there?”
“The Blue Ox minor league team practices there.”
James lights up and claps me on the shoulder. “Come on up sometime. We’ll show you the real Maple Lake.”
Patty is beaming at Chloe. “Sweetheart, you didn’t tell us he was this Brody Kane. When Maya said you were bringing a hockey player, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought, but certainly not this!” She laughs. “We’re just so happy you found someone who?—”
She stops herself, but I catch the end of that sentence.
Someone who…?
“We’re just getting to know each other,” Chloe says softly, and I hear the careful hedge in her voice—protecting herself, managing expectations.
“Well, you picked a good one,” James says, winking at his daughter. “Anyone who can handle Derek’s ego in the locker room deserves a medal.”
I laugh. “Derek can be competitive.”
“That’s a polite way of putting it.” James leans in conspiratorially. “But he knows what he wants. Can’t fault him for that. Maya’s a catch.”
And just like that, I see it. The dynamic that’s shaped Chloe’s entire life.
Her parents aren’t the problem. They’re warm, genuine, excited to meet me—not because I’m famous but because they love hockey and they love their daughter.
But they’re also completely swooning over Maya’s world.
Maya’s wealthy fiancé. Maya’s destination wedding. Maya’s perfect life.
Chloe’s parents fit into that world the way I fit into a tuxedo—uncomfortable, out of place, trying their best.
And Chloe has spent her whole life watching her parents try to keep up with the life Maya built, while her own quieter dreams got overlooked in the chaos.
Not because they don’t love her.
Because Maya’s life is just…louder.
Chloe catches me watching her, and for a second, our eyes meet.
She sees that I see it.
Something changes between us.
