“You don’t—” He stopped. Started again. “You can’t possibly understand what you’re risking here.”
“I understand perfectly.” Her voice shook but held steady. “I know what people will say. I know how it looks. I don’t care.”
“You should care.” He looked at me now, and I found pain under the anger. “You came to this team when nobody else wanted you. I gave you a chance. I put you on the first line. I trusted you.”
“I know.” The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had. “I didn’t plan this.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Both of you did.” He shook his head. “Sneaking around behind my back for weeks.”
“We weren’t sneaking,” Haley said. “We were being private. There’s a difference.”
“Is there? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you yet.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not.” She walked over to stand in front of him, forcing him to look up at her. “I was going to tell you tonight. We both were. We agreed on it days ago.”
“Very considerate.”
The sarcasm made her flinch.
I stood and joined her. “This isn’t her fault.”
“No?” Suddenly, the room felt too small for the three of us. “Because it seems to me like you took advantage of?—”
“Don’t.” Haley’s voice cracked through the air. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Her chin lifted. “I’m not some helpless victim who got seduced by a player. I made a choice. I chose to be with Tolrek knowing exactly what it could cost.”
“Including your job?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Haley—”
“I’ve spent my whole life following you around.” The words spilled out of her now. “Every city you coached in. Every team you joined. I followed because I thought that’s what you needed. I thought if I stayed close and worked hard and never caused problems, you’d finally see me.”
“I always saw you.”
“No, you didn’t. You saw the work I did. You saw the analyst who made you look good. You saw the daughter who never asked for anything.” Tears streamed down her face, but her voice held strong. “I made myself invisible because I thought that’s what love looked like. Sacrificing everything to be what someone else needed.”
Jim’s face crumpled. “I never asked you to do that.”
“You didn’t have to ask. It’s what I thought a good daughter did. What Mom would have wanted.” She wiped at her face. “But I’m not doing it anymore. I’m not giving up the first real thing I’ve had in years because you’re afraid of what other people might think.”
Silence filled the room.
Jim slumped, looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with the season.
“This sport destroys relationships,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen it happen over and over. The trades, the travel, the pressure. It tears people apart.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“You don’t know that.”
