“I can’t believe you,” I whisper, swatting away the tear running down my cheek.
“Your mom isn’t innocent in the whole situation,” he replies.
“If this is some sick way to try and make me feel sorry for you, then you don’t know me very well.” I turn and head toward the elevators, and I hear his shoes smacking the floor as he follows me.
“Declan Alexander Sanderson, this conversation isn’t finished,” he argues as I press the elevator button.
“Don’t bother coming tonight.” I laugh. “To my game, that is. I think you already got the other kind covered.”
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I step inside, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my face again. I try to shake the image of my dad screwing someone else out of my head because I don’t need this kind of distraction for tonight’s game. But for the first time, since I started playing hockey, it seems like my dad doesn’t care about me playing my best tonight because right as the elevator doors close, he gets in the last word—
“She knew.”
Ishould be on my way to the arena by now, getting ready for our opening game, but instead, I’m standing in front of my childhood home, trying to find the courage to knock. Because how can I play hockey after what I just witnessed? How can I see Brin and not fall apart? How can—
The door opens, and I realize I mindlessly rang the doorbell. The second my mom sees me, she looks just as confused as I feel.
“What are you doing here?” she asks. “You should be getting ready for your game.”
She moves out of the way to let me in.
“I should, but I couldn’t. I just, I needed to—”
“What’s going on, Declan?”
“I went to see Dad.” I turn back to her as she shuts the door, hoping for a reaction. Anything. But there’s none.
“Oh,” she begins, “you did? How did that go?”
“I wanted to convince him to let you go.”
“Declan, I told you it was okay.” She forces a smile, and I feel a tug in my heart.
She knows. I know she knows. I can see it on her face.
“I know, but I wanted you there,” I continue. “We never really got a chance to talk about the game, though, because—”
“Was he working on that big assignment?” She walks into the living room. “You know how he’s been working a lot? His company has this huge assignment and—”
“The only thing he was busy doing was screwing another woman,” I respond, and her breath hitches as she squeezes her eyes closed. It’s the same thing I did when trying to convince myself what was happening wasn’t real. And as her eyes slowly open, I don’t see sadness or shock; I just see disappointment and guilt. Because she knew… and now I do, and she can’t run from it. “Fuck.”
“Declan.”
“You knew?” I hesitate. “You knew he was fucking someone else, and you, youlet him?”
“It’s not that simple.” She sits on the couch like if she continues to stand, her legs will give out from under her. “Your father’s a grown man; I don’t really have a say—”
“The hell you don’t!”
I can’t even look at her right now, and I can’t hear her make excuses for him.
“When it doesn’t just affect you,” I begin, finally giving her the satisfaction of looking at her, “you have every say in the world.”
“But it shouldn’t be affecting the two of you,” she cries. “This thing is between your father and me. You guys shouldn’t be in the middle of it.”
“We’re already in the middle of it!” I yell, taking two large steps toward her. “Mom, don’t you get that? We’ve been in the middle of it formonths.”
“I’m sorry you’ve felt that way, but—”
