He smiles at me and it’s the first one I’ve seen since I got here. Then he cups my face and we kiss, and it feels like coming home. Like everything that was broken suddenly clicking back into place.
"So what do we do?" I ask when we come up for air. "About your father?"
"We call his bluff. I support Maya with loans and work. We prove we don't need his money or his approval." Herests his forehead against mine. "And we stay together. No breaks. No running. Just us figuring it out."
"Your father isn't going to like that."
"Good. I'm done caring what he likes."
"What about the draft? The scouts who are questioning your judgment?"
"If they don't want me because I have a personal life, then I don't want them. I'm a good player. Someone will see that." He kisses me again. "And if they don't, I'll coach. Or work in sports psychology. Or find some other way to combine hockey and mental health work."
"You've really thought about this."
"I've had four days of hell to think about nothing else." He pulls me toward the bedroom. "Now stop talking and come to bed."
"It's three in the afternoon?—"
"I don't care. I haven't slept properly in days and I need you."
We fall into bed together, and it's different from before. Slower. More careful. Like we're both terrified this might be the last time even though we've just agreed it won't be.
"I missed you," he murmurs against my skin.
"It was four days."
"Longest four days of my life."
"Mine too."
We make love slowly, relearning each other, reconnecting in the most fundamental way. And when we both finally come, it's with whispered promises and tangled hands and the certainty that whatever happens next, we'll face it together.
After, wrapped in his sheets and his arms, I ask the question I've been avoiding.
"What if your father makes good on his threat? What if he actually cuts Maya off?"
"Then we deal with it. Together." He kisses my forehead. "But I think he's bluffing. He needs me more than I need him. His reputation is tied to my success. If I succeed despite him, it makes him look bad. If I fail because of his interference, it makes him look worse."
"So you're betting on his ego."
"I'm betting on the fact that he's predictable. He wants control and the best way to take that away is to stop caring whether he approves."
"That's very mature of you."
"I've been reading a lot of psychology texts." He grins. "Turns out understanding toxic family dynamics helps when you're living through one."
We stay in bed until evening, talking and kissing and occasionally dozing. It's domestic and comfortable and exactly what I need after days of misery.
My phone buzzes. Isla:Did you fix it?
Me:Yes. We're good.
Isla:Good. Sebastian and I want to have a couple's dinner. This weekend?
Me:I'll ask Carter.
I show him the text. He smiles.
