I shift closer, pressing my forehead against hers, our fingers still entwined, as the doctor sets the wand aside. Rina’s lashes are wet as her pulse races against my palm, and I know down to my marrow that this is the moment I’ll measure every other against.
I thought I’d felt pressure before—draft day, playoffs, the weight of millions watching me—but none of it compares to the sound of that heartbeat.
And yet, beneath the awe, a sharp edge of fear slices through me. What if I screw this up? What if I’m not the man she or our baby needs me to be? I’ve spent my whole career performing under pressure, but there’s no playbook for this kind of responsibility.
Rina is stronger than she knows. I see it in the way she holds everything together even when she’s breaking apart inside. She carries everyone else’s burdens while pretending she’s untouched by her own.
The doctor runs through the next steps—follow-up appointments, and what to expect over the coming months—before giving us a reassuring smile. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Don’t worry, Doc,” I say without missing a beat. “I won’t.”
Her mouth quirks, like she figured as much, before she slips out the door, leaving us alone.
I drag a hand down my face, still reeling. “I can’t believe we heard the heartbeat,” I murmur, almost to myself. “That was insane.”
Rina redresses, buttoning her pants and smoothing her blouse into place with careful precision, like she needs something to focus on besides me. “Definitely makes it more real, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does.” I close the gap between us and take her hand again, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. The simple contact steadies me, and I hope it does the same for her. “I meant everything I said last night. I’m in this for the long haul. You can count on me.”
Her gaze falters, some of the light dimming in her eyes as she bites her lower lip. “Please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
It doesn’t sound like an accusation, more like a plea she’s too proud to admit she’s making.
Her words slice right through me. How she still can’t see it—can’t believe a damn thing I’m showing her—doesn’t make sense.
I pull her closer, arms locking tight around her. “That isn’t a promise,” I whisper fiercely into her hair. “It’s a fact. I’m here. Always.”
Instead of answering, she just lets me hold her, leaning into me while my mind replays that tiny heartbeat on a loop.
Nothing compares to it.
Not even the day my name was called at the NHL draft.
That moment changed my life.
This one remade it.
But awe only gets you so far.
There’s a new kind of pressure settling over me now. A responsibility that doesn’t end when the buzzer sounds or the season ends. For the first time, what happens off the ice matters just as much as what transpires on it.
I can already feel her pulling away as we leave the medical building. The distance isn’t physical, but it’s there in the way her shoulders stiffen and her hand goes slack in mine. All the bricks I’ve been painstakingly tearing down are being stacked back up, one by one. Still, I lace our fingers together and refuse to let go as we cross the lobby to the exit.
Outside, the glare of the sun bounces off windshields in the crowded lot. That’s when I catch a flicker of movement a few rows over, and a man lifts his phone, snapping a quick series of photos before lowering it again. My jaw locks, fury sparking white-hot, but I don’t slow. Instead, I shift, sliding my arm around Rina’s shoulders and angling my body to shield her from view. If they want pictures, they can take them of me.
Not her.
By the time the first headline breaks, they’ll have written their own version of this story about a reckless player, the secret girlfriend, and a baby rumor no one saw coming.
I can take the hit.
But I don’t want them dragging Rina through it.
Once we reach the Porsche, I pop the door open and help her inside before leaning through the opening to stretch the belt protectively across her. The sound of it locking into place feels final.
For just a moment, I remain still. “I know you don’t believe me, but everything is going to be all right.”
Even though she forces a smile, the uncertainty in her eyes gives her away.
