Page 153 of Slapshot Bride

My dad takes me down the hall to Preston’s study, because it’s the only door on this floor nobody will open, and he closes it behind us and stands with his back against it.

“Sit down.”

“Dad…”

“Sit, Riley.”

I sit down.

He pulls the other chair around so he’s facing me, close, knees almost touching, and he takes both of my hands in his.

“Are you fine?”

A weak smile spreads across my face, and I merely nod. His eyes stare intently into mine, and I can tell he doesn’t believe it.

“Riley... just two weeks ago, you came to the house and told your mother and me you didn't want to be with Preston anymore. You made it clear you'd finally gotten your life back. You'd even met someone new.”

He smiles faintly. “You showed us your work.”

His hands tighten gently around mine. “And I've been watching, Riley. I know I didn't handle that conversation well. I wasn't ready to accept this new path you were choosing.”

He lets out a quiet breath. “But I've been paying attention. I followed your socials. I saw the photos from your latest gig, and, Riley...” His eyes soften. “I was so proud of you.”

His smile fades. “But this...”

He slowly shakes his head. “This isn't like you. You don't make impulsive decisions. Suddenly your social media is gone. Now you're back with Preston, you've accepted his proposal again, and none of us heard a word beforehand.”

He searches my face. “I need to hear it from you, honey. I need to know this is what you want.”

His voice is gentle now. “Not because you think it'll make me happy.”

He squeezes my hands once more. “But because you truly believe it'll make you happy in the long run.”

My throat closes. “Dad—”

My eyes water.

“The last time, I sat there, and I let you go. I said nothing, and I have not slept properly since.” His voice doesn’t rise. It doesn’t have to. “But now, I need you to be honest with me. Trust me again, Riley.”

I hold out for about thirty seconds. That's all it takes.

The tears come fast, and with my head bowed, unable to meet his eyes, I tell him everything.

From the moment I climbed into Easton's car at the traffic light, to the camera he bought me after I finally admitted how much I loved photography. The trip to Chicago. The video.

Everything.

Everything except the biggest truth. That I’m in love with Easton, but I’d lied that it was all fake.

“He was waiting in the living room when I got home,” I say. My voice has gone flat because it’s the only way I can get through it. “He knew Easton’s flight. He had it timed. And he gave me no other option.”

My father has gone very still.

“He’d have released it during the game. He said so. And I couldn’t let him do that. Easton’s help to me has already cost him enough. His sponsors… his career would be gone.” I press my palms to my face.

“You left to protect him.”

I nod.