“Since Jaylynn and I aren’t together anymore, I figured I should probably go back to calling you Coach. Especially since I’m pretty sure you’re here to kick my ass.”
To my surprise, he chuckles—low, genuine—and shakes his head.
“No?” I ask, confused.
“Have a seat, son.”
Son.
The word detonates in my chest.
It should be comforting, but it feels like someone tearing the bandage off a wound I’ve been trying to ignore. All I can think about is never earning that word again. Never being his son-in-law. Never sitting at their table with Jaylynn at my side, pretending I belong in their world. The ache scrapes me raw, leaves me hollow.
My legs give out and I stumble back, dropping into the couch. My apartment looks like a disaster zone—takeout boxes, empty bottles, the kind of mess that screams loser. I can practically feel his disappointment crawling over the walls. Some role model for his daughter. Some catch.
The first words tumble out before I can stop them. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes soften. “I know you are.”
“I never meant to hurt her,” I rush on, the words thick with guilt. “God, that’s the last thing I ever wanted. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I blew it. I humiliated her. I’m sure she hates me.”
Will leans forward slightly, his voice steady but sure. “No, son. She doesn’t hate you.”
The word son again. My throat closes around it.
“In fact…” He lets a slow smile creep over his face, then deliberately lets the sentence dangle, unfinished.
“In fact, what?” My heart’s hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears.
“I’ll let her tell you that herself.”
“Tell me what?” My voice cracks.
“Why don’t you come back to Snowberry with me and find out.” He glances at his watch. “If we leave now, and I speed just a little, we can be there in time to watch the Grinch before bed. It’s Christmas Eve tradition.”
I shoot to my feet so fast I nearly trip over a pizza box. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” My laugh is almost hysterical. “After what I did? I ruined everything. I traumatized a crowd of kids. Ruined Jay’s career.” I can barely force the next words out; they taste so bitter. “She deserves better than me.”
Will doesn’t flinch. He just arches a brow. “You think she’s better off with Dylan?”
“Fuck no.” The answer tears out of me before I can stop it. The thought alone makes bile rise in my throat. Will tilts his head, the tiniest flicker of a smile tugging at his mouth, and I cringe, running a hand through my hair. “Sorry,” I mutter, heat crawling up my neck. “Didn’t mean to swear.” But the truth is, every ounce of me meant it. Jaylynn with Dylan? Over my dead body.
“I need to tell you something, Penn. Can you please sit?”
The seriousness in his tone knocks the wind out of me, and I sink back onto the couch, my chest tight. “What?”
“Jaylynn always came to the rink with me. She loved watching practices.”
I swallow hard, already feeling where this is going. “Yeah. I saw her there sometimes.”
“She liked watching you.”
The words sting with disbelief. “Me? Really? Why?”
“Because she saw something in you. Skills you didn’t think anyone noticed. When you were out there alone, running drills, pushing yourself after everyone else left, she quietly watched. She told me to give you a chance, told me that once you got your shot at the big league, you’d show the world what you were really made of.” He folds his hands together, his voice steady, certain. “Penn, she’s the reason you were called up. She’s the one who always believed in you.”
Tears burn hot behind my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, pressing my palms into my face. She believed in me. Not because she wanted bragging rights or because she needed me to be some star for her benefit. She believed in me for me. She saw value in me when I couldn’t find any myself.
Jesus.