“Basically, yeah.”
“Easton, what do you think your father would have done in this situation?”
The question made me flinch. “My father would have done whatever benefited him most. Which would have been signing the statement and moving on.”
“And what did that teach you?”
I knew where he was going with this. “That career always comes first. That image matters more than integrity.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No.” The answer came quickly, surprising me. “No, I don’t.”
“Then why are you even considering it?”
“Because it’s the smart play. I’ve worked my entire life for this career. And throwing it away feels insane.”
Dr. Reyes leaned forward. “Let me ask you something else. A year from now, five years from now, when Casey asks you about this moment, what do you want to tell her? That you chose your career over defending her? Or that you chose her, even when it cost you?”
My throat tightened. “Put that way…”
“There is no other way to put it, Easton. This isn’t about the statement or the captaincy. It’s about who you want to be as a father. And based on everything you’ve told me over the past months, I think you already know the answer.”
I sat with that for a long moment. He was right. I knew what I wanted to do. I was just terrified of the consequences.
“I’m still angry at Palisade,” I admitted. “For keeping Casey from me. For making choices that cost me years with my daughter. I haven’t forgiven her for that, and I don’t know if I ever fully will.”
“You can be angry at someone and still protect them,” Dr. Reyes said gently. “Those emotions aren’t mutually exclusive. You can hold Palisade accountable for her choices while also recognizing that she’s being unfairly attacked now. You can grieve the years you lost while also fighting for the years you have left.”
“What if I issue the statement and everything falls apart? What if I lose my career and she still doesn’t want me in her life the way I want to be?”
“Then you’ll still have done the right thing for Casey. You’ll have shown your daughter that family comes first, that love means sacrifice, that integrity matters more than image.” He paused. “What kind of man do you want Casey to see you be?”
I thought about Casey watching me on TV. Thought about her hearing the safe statement that apologized for defending her. Thought about what that would teach her about her worth, about whether she was someone worth fighting for.
Then I thought about the alternative. About her seeing me stand up and say publicly: Yes, she’s my daughter. Yes, I take responsibility. Yes, I’ll defend her and her mother no matter what it costs me. Because they’re worth it.
“I want her to see me be better than my father was,” I said.
“Then what kind of statement reflects that choice?”
I sat with the question for a long moment. The safest statement would protect everything I’d worked for professionally. The genuine statement would cost me everything.
But Casey would see it. Casey would see me choose them publicly, despite the cost. She’d learn that love meant sacrifice, that family came first, that her father would take a hit for her and her mother.
And Palisade… Palisade would see that I meant it. That, despite my anger, despite the hurt, I was choosing us.
“The real one,” I said. “I’m going to issue my statement. The one that tells the truth. That I take responsibility for the lost years, that Palisade isn’t a gold digger, that Casey is a privilege, not a problem. Even if it costs me.”
Dr. Reyes smiled. “That’s growth, Easton. Painful growth.”
“It might cost me everything.”
“Or it might give you everything that actually matters.”
We talked for another thirty minutes about how to manage the anger while choosing love, about how to set boundaries with the media, about how to talk to Casey about all of this. By the time I left Dr. Reyes’s office, I felt steadier. Not less scared, but more certain.
I sat in my truck and pulled out my phone. Typed out a message to Palisade.
