Conflict of interest.
Questions of power.
Speculation about our marriages and relationships and timelines from people who knew nothing but spoke anyway.
I served a short suspension during the review. Not long enough to become a martyr. Long enough to hurt. Long enough to remind everyone, including us, that truth did not eraseconsequences. When I returned, the oversight stayed. Some of it still existed now. It should.
Trust rebuilt slowly.
Not because anyone gave us permission to be happy, but because we showed up and did the work.
Jace played through it with his teeth clenched and his notes app full of reminders. He was late twice in the first month because stress shredded his routines, and both times he owned it before anyone else could. He had bad days. So did I. We learned that living honestly did not make everything simple. It only meant we stopped bleeding energy into secrecy.
Tiny lifted his head and barked directly in Jace’s ear.
Jace flinched. “I’m awake, you giant loaf.”
“He wants breakfast.”
“He wants custody of my entire body.”
Tiny barked again.
I patted Jace’s hip. “Come on. We’ve got people here at two.”
He rolled off me with a sigh that belonged to an old man, not a twenty-four-year-old NHL center. “If Owen touches the grill again, I’m calling the fire department on a firefighter.”
“He’s better now.”
“He set asparagus on fire last time.”
“He said it was the marinade.”
“It was charcoal, Dec.”
Downstairs, the house already looked like Jace had started four tasks and completed one and a half. There were burger patties in the fridge, three bags of ice in the sink because he had meant to put them in the cooler and gotten distracted by reorganizing condiments, and a handwritten list taped to the island.
He had checked off two items.
Then drawn a small angry face beside “slice onions.”
I kissed the back of his neck as he stood staring at it. “You okay?”
He leaned back into me. “Yeah. My head’s loud, but normal loud. People-coming-over loud. Not life-is-ending loud.”
“Want a timer?”
“Already set. Three of them.” He lifted his phone. “Also Harper texted me a threat about forgetting the veggie tray, so I’m emotionally supported.”
I smiled against his skin.
By two fifteen, the backyard was full.
The team came in waves, players and partners and kids and dogs and noise. Roman arrived first because he claimed early arrival was a symptom of maturity, then took over a cooler and complained about everyone’s beer preferences. Benny brought his girlfriend, Mia, and a cheesecake he tried to pass off as homemade until she said, “He carried it from the bakery to the car, and that was his contribution.”
Owen showed up with my parents and immediately hugged Jace hard enough to lift him off his feet.
“Favorite Reid,” Owen announced.
