It would be worth it, though. Every bit of it was worth it if it meant keeping him.
“Agreed,” I said.
“Fourth.” My father paused. “I was already planning to promote you to Director of Video Analysis, Haley. It would put you over Mark and the other analysts, reporting directly to me. I’m moving that timeline up.”
“Dad, you don’t have to?—”
“Yes, I do.” His tone left no room for argument. “You’ve earned it. And this way, your role is clearly defined as supervisory. It’ll be harder for anyone to question your work or your judgment when you’re senior staff.”
My father narrowed his gaze on Tolrek. “If you hurt her, I don’t care if you’re playing the best hockey of your career. I don’t care that this team needs you. I will make sure you never play in this league again.”
Tolrek held his eyes without flinching. “If I hurt her, I’ll deserve it.”
“Damn right you will.”
My tears came again.
My father handed me the tissue box from his desk.
I took it and tried to laugh through the crying. “I’m going to use all your tissues.”
“I’ve got more in the drawer.” For the first time since we’d walked in, he looked less like a coach laying down the law and more like a dad trying to figure out how to let his daughter go.
“This is going to be complicated,” he said.
I wiped my eyes with a tissue. “We can handle complicated.”
“We’ve been handling it for weeks,” Tolrek said.
I shot him a look that said it might be too soon for jokes.
But my father smiled. “Yeah. I think you can.” He cleared his throat. “Your mother would be proud of you for standing up to me.”
I broke all over again.
“She always said I needed someone to tell me when I was being an ass. I miss her doing it, but I’m glad you did it instead.”
My father stood slowly, like his joints hurt. He came around the desk and stopped in front of Tolrek.
He stood there, just looking at him. Measuring him. Deciding.
Then he extended his hand.
Tolrek took it without hesitation. Their grips locked, two men who understood what this cost, what it meant.
“Take care of her,” my father said, his voice rough. “Or I’ll end you.”
“I will.”
My father’s jaw worked. “She’s all I have.”
“I know.”
My father’s grip loosened, and he stepped back, his hand falling away like he was letting go of something he’d held too tight for too long.
“Keep playing the way you have been,” Dad said. “That wasn’t fake just because you two were together. That was real.”
We left the office together, finding the hallway empty. We walked side by side until we reached the turn that would take us to different parts of the building.
