For a second, I didn’t understand the sentence.
Then it hit.
Not making a termination decision today.
Not pursuing a trade.
My vision blurred at the edges, and I locked my eyes on the table because if I looked at Declan I would lose whatever fragile hold I had on my face.
“There will be an internal review,” Elaine said. “Effective immediately, any disciplinary matter involving Mr. Holloway will be reviewed by the general manager and hockey operations. Performance evaluations concerning him will be documented with secondary oversight. Coach Reid, you will recuse yourself from contract-related recommendations regarding Mr. Holloway. You will both avoid one-on-one private interactions in team facilities without a third party present. HR will prepare acknowledgments regarding the consensual relationship and conflict management plan.”
Patel added, “These measures may evolve.”
“Understood,” Declan said.
I found my voice. “Understood.”
Elaine’s expression softened by maybe one degree. “This will not be easy. There may be consequences in the room, in the organization, and eventually outside it. But the club is willing to attempt management of the conflict because you disclosed, because both of you have been direct today, and because we believe there is a path that protects the team.”
A path.
Not a clean bill. Not approval. Not celebration.
A path.
My whole body went weak with relief so sudden it felt dangerous.
Marlene outlined next steps. Written statements by tomorrow. Counsel coordination. No public disclosure unless necessary. No locker room announcement yet. Tessa would be read into the communications side officially, which probably meant she would become even more terrifying.
Then it was over.
We stood. Shook hands. I managed not to say anything stupid. Declan’s voice stayed even. Mine almost did.
Tessa waited down the hall, arms folded, eyes moving over both of us fast.
“Well?” she asked.
“No trade,” I said.
Her shoulders dropped before she could stop them.
Declan said, “Review. Conflict plan. Oversight.”
Tessa nodded. “Good. Not painless. Good.”
Whitaker came out behind us and cleared his throat. Tessa stepped away, instantly professional.
The GM looked at me first. “Holloway.”
“Yeah?”
“You play tomorrow.”
I blinked. “I do?”
“You do. And you play like a man who understands that the privilege of being trusted does not mean the absence of consequences.”
I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
