Then he and Ralph Wagner, the scout from Boston, peppered me with questions about my training regimen, my academics, my plans for the future. I answered as best I could, hyperaware of Nils’s presence even though I didn’t look at him directly. His quiet strength helped me stay calm and focused.
The door opened and my dad entered, looking slightly uncomfortable. Coach Brennan had told him he could sit in, and the pride on his face nearly undid me.
“Mr. Rivera,” Ralph Wagner said, standing to shake his hand. “You must be proud of your son.”
“Every day,” Dad said simply, taking a seat.
The questions continued, now including family support, my background, how I’d developed my work ethic. My dad answered some, talking about the rink where I’d learned to skate, the coaches who’d believed in me early on.
“And Coach Anders,” Jay Dunn said, turning to Nils. “Your work with Adan has been exceptional. The improvement in his tactical awareness is remarkable.”
“Adan deserves the credit,” Nils said. “He’s been an exceptional student.”
They wrapped up with promises to be in touch, to watch our playoff games, to have further discussions as the season progressed. Handshakes all around, business cards exchanged, the future feeling tangible in ways it never had before.
After the scouts left, the four of us remained: me, Nils, my dad, and Coach Brennan. The silence felt heavy with unspoken things. Coach Brennan rose. “I’ll leave you to talk. I’m sure you have some things to discuss.”
He walked out with a knowing look that made me wonder how much he’d figured out.
When the door closed, my dad turned to face us fully. “You two need to be more careful.”
“What do you m?—?”
“You think I don’t notice?” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “The way you two look at each other when you think no one sees?”
My heart stopped. Beside me, I felt Nils go rigid.
“Dad—”
“I’m not blind, Adan. And I’m not angry. And I’ll admit it’s different because I know what happened between you.” He looked between us. “But you must be more careful. Three teams are watching now, and more scouts will be coming to playoffs. Everything you’ve worked for is so close.”
“We’ve been maintaining distance,” Nils said quietly. “Professional boundaries.”
“I know. I can see how much it costs you both.” My dad’s expression softened. “But a few more months. That’s all. Don’t risk everything now.” He turned to Nils fully. “You care for my son. I see that. I saw it when you cared for him after that fight. But if you truly care, you wait. You let him achieve his dreams first.”
“You have my word, Mr. Rivera,” Nils said solemnly. “Adan’s future comes first. Always.”
“After this is over,” Dad said. “After he signs. Then you figure out what you are to each other. But not before.”
I wanted to protest, to say I was an adult who could make his own choices. But he was right. Everything I’d worked for, everything my family had sacrificed for, was within reach. A few more months of distance was a small price to pay.
They shook hands, an understanding passing between them that made my throat tight. My dad was protecting me the only way he knew how, and Nils was agreeing to continue the torture because it was right.
“Come, let’s find your mom,” my dad said. “I know she wants to meet Coach Anders.”
Mom was waiting outside, her face lighting up when she saw us.“Jugaste muy bien, mijo.”
“Thanks, Mom. Mom, this is Coach Anders from Sweden.”
“Ah, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, reaching for Nils’s hand with both of hers. “You work so hard with him.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Rivera. Adan is a joy to coach.”
“We are very proud of him.” She lowered her voice. “And thank you for taking such good care of him…”
Nils’s eyes met mine for a moment. “That, too, is my pleasure.”
A bittersweet pleasure, for sure.
