“You don’t know what he’ll do.”
“I know what I’ll do. I’ll choose you every time. No matter what it costs.”
Some of the tension left her shoulders. “Okay.” Her voice shook but held. “Tonight.”
We sat for a few more minutes. Eventually she went to the bathroom to wash her face. When she came back, her eyes were still red but her expression had steadied.
I stood and held out my hand. “Whatever happens, we’re on the same side.”
She gave me a nod.
Her father’s house sat in a quiet neighborhood fifteen minutes from the rink. Tree-lined streets. Cars in driveways. Kids’ bikes abandoned on front lawns. The kind of area where people built lives instead of just passing through.
We’d driven here in my truck, Haley staring out the window the entire way. She hadn’t said a word since we’d left her apartment.
Now we stood on the sidewalk outside a two-story white colonial with dark blue shutters. A porch light glowed beside the front door even though it was barely evening.
“I used to love this house,” Haley said quietly. “We moved here when I was sixteen. This was the first place that ever felt permanent.”
Her hand found mine. Squeezed once.
We climbed the porch steps together.
She didn’t knock, just opened the door and called out, “Dad?”
“In the kitchen,” Jim shouted.
The entryway opened into a living room that looked like a shrine to hockey. Team photos covered one wall, dating back at least two decades. The other held images of Jim and Haley. Jim in different jerseys, different cities. Haley with him in most, growing from a kid to a teenager to the woman beside me now.
She’d followed him to every city. She’d made herself part of his world because she thought that’s what he needed.
The kitchen sat at the back of the house. Jim stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot. He glanced up when we entered, and I watched understanding hit him in stages.
First: surprise at seeing me here.
Second: confusion about why I’d come with his daughter.
Third: the moment where he put it together.
The wooden spoon clattered against the pot.
“Both of you,” he said. Not a question but an accusation.
He turned off the burner and moved past us into the living room. We followed.
He didn’t sit. Just stood near the empty fireplace with his arms crossed on his chest, looking between us. Waiting for someone to confirm what he already knew.
Haley spoke first. “We’re together.”
“How long?” His voice came out flat and carefully controlled.
“Since training camp started.”
I watched him count backward through the weeks. All the times we’d been in meetings together. All the moments he’d praised my improvement without knowing where it came from. The tape sessions where his daughter had helped me become the player he needed.
“Dammit, Haley.” He dropped onto the couch like his legs wouldn’t hold him anymore. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m in love with him.”
