And he'd done it without hesitation or asking for anything in return.
The scrimmage continued below, and I watched Easton more than the game. His movements on the ice were simultaneously powerful and graceful. The way he'd check our box between plays, that small smile appearing when he saw Casey's animated face. The protective intensity in his eyes when they found mine.
"You know what I think?" Brenna said quietly, following my gaze. "I think that man is falling in love with both of you.” She cleared her throat. “I know it's none of my business, but maybe he already has."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "It's complicated," I managed.
"The best things usually are," Brenna said with a knowing smile. Then stood, apparently sensing I needed space to process. "I'll be outside if you need anything. Enjoy the show."
After she left, I sat there in the dimming afternoon light filtering through the arena windows, watching my daughter and the man who'd saved her life, and let myself acknowledge the truth I'd been avoiding.
Easton was falling for Casey.
That much was obvious in every glance he stole toward our box between plays, every protective gesture, every time he smiled at her like she hung every star in the sky.
And the feeling was mutual. Casey adored him. Trusted him. Looked to him for approval and guidance in a way she'd never looked to anyone except my parents and me.
But there was more.
When had I started checking the clinic schedule every morning to see which days he'd be there? When had I started wearing the blue scrubs because he'd mentioned once, almost absently, that the color looked good on me? When had his opinion of Casey's science project become more important than her teacher's?
The answer was revealed slowly, building anticipation, and then it exploded into clarity all at once.
This wasn't just attraction. This wasn't gratitude for the father he was becoming to Casey. This wasn't a ghost from seven years ago haunting me.
This was the feeling I'd run from when I'd discovered I was pregnant. The one that had terrified me so much I'd convinced myself one night couldn't mean anything real. The one I'd been holding at arm's length since the day he walked back into the clinic.
But it was real. It had always been real.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
I was falling for him.
Again.
Maybe I'd never stopped.
But we'd built this on a foundation of lies.
Casey didn't know Easton was her father.
Easton didn't know Casey was his daughter.
And I was the architect of that deception, the keeper of secrets that grew heavier with each passing day.
Every Wednesday dinner. Every hockey lesson in the driveway. Every gentle moment between them. Every time Casey called him "Uncle Easton" instead of "Dad." Every time he looked at her with such obvious affection, not knowing the truth.
It was all borrowed time.
And when the truth came out, I didn't know if any of us would survive the fallout.
Would Easton forgive me for keeping Casey from him? Would Casey forgive me for lying about her father? Would I forgive myself for creating this beautiful, terrible situation?
"Mom?" Casey's voice pulled me back. "Are you okay? You look sad."
I blinked back the tears that had been threatening and pulled her close. "I'm not sad, baby. I'm happy. So, so happy that you're safe and brave and here with me."
"And with Uncle Easton," Casey added, snuggling into my side. "I'm glad we have him now. He makes things better, doesn't he?"
