“I can’t say I’m surprised to see you, Brinley. I was wondering when you might come by.”
My spine stiffens when I hear him say my name again.
“You… knew,” I say.
He nods once, like it’s obvious. “Yes.”
“You knew I was in town?” I stare at him. “So you just…” My voice wobbles despite my effort to steady it. “Watched?”
“I was aware of you,” he says evenly. “I saw you sitting in on our practice.”
The room tilts.
I stop myself, swallowing hard. “You knew I was here. You saw me, and you chose not to reach out? You couldn’t even say anything?”
He leans back in his chair. “I figured you would reach out when you were ready.”
His words sting. My hands curl in my lap, nails biting into my palms.
“Because,” he says calmly, “you enrolling here and suddenly appearing around my program creates complications. Our season just started, and I have a lot on my mind and on my plate, a lot that needs my focus and attention.”
The word lands heavy.
“Complications,” I repeat.
“You’re an adult,” he continues. “You made a choice to come here. I wasn’t going to assume that choice was about me.”
“It was,” I snap. “At least partly.”
A flicker of what looks like annoyance crosses his face.
“That’s exactly the issue,” he says.
I still. “Excuse me?”
“If people start drawing lines,” he says carefully, “if it becomes known that you’re my daughter, that brings attention I don’t want or need on my program.”
There it is.
He doesn’t care about getting to know me. All he cares about is protecting himself and his image.
He holds my gaze for a beat too long. “I’m here to coach hockey. I have a lot riding on that, a lot of responsibilities on my shoulders. I can’t afford distractions.”
“So that’s all I am to you. A distraction?”
“I didn’t reach out to you because I didn’t want this,” he says, gesturing between us. “Not here and not now.”
“So when?” My voice cracks. “When would it have been convenient for you?”
He doesn’t answer that.
Instead, he says, “You’ve been showing up at my practices. Sitting in the stands. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide.”
“I know,” he says. “That’s the problem.”
Silence fills the room.
