The words were not new.
He had said them to me in the dark. Against my mouth. Half asleep once, like the truth had slipped through before his guard could catch it. I had said them back with my hand over his racing heart and meant them so much it had scared me quiet afterward.
But hearing him say it to his father did something different.
It took the private thing between us and gave it air. Weight. Consequence. It was not a confession whispered into my skin when no one else could hear. It was Jace standing in front of the man who had raised him and telling the truth even though the truth came with damage attached.
My throat went tight.
Jace knew exactly what he had done. His eyes stayed on mine.
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t dress it up.
Cal said something, and Jace blinked fast, pulled back into the call.
“I know love doesn’t erase the rest,” he said. “I know. That’s why I called.”
He went quiet for almost a full minute.
When he spoke again, his voice was low. “What would you do?”
Whatever Cal told him, Jace absorbed it like instruction. Not easy instruction. Necessary.
He nodded once.
“Tell the truth early,” he repeated. “Don’t make people chase it and then ask them to trust me.”
A pause.
“Don’t let guilt make every decision.”
Another.
“Make sure I’m not letting him take all the damage because I’m scared.”
My chest hurt.
Jace’s eyes lowered to his bare feet. “Yeah. He would. That’s kind of his thing.”
Cal said something that made Jace snort.
“I’m standing right here, so if you’re calling me an idiot, at least commit.”
Another murmur.
Jace’s mouth twitched. “He is big, yes. Bigger than me. Why is that your follow-up question?”
Cal apparently had his reasons.
Jace rubbed his forehead again. “Please don’t threaten an NHL head coach over the phone.”
A pause.
“No, I’m not putting him on so you can use your disappointed dad voice.”
Despite myself, I almost smiled.
Then Jace sobered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
