I hold his stare another second.
“From here on out, every shift, every practice, every hit gets measured against it.”
Silence.
“You good with that?”
He looks at me for a moment, and I can see the moment a muscle jumps in his jaw.
"You think you have leverage," he says finally. "Because your girlfriend embarrassed me."
"No. I think I have leverage because I have eight months ofdocumentation. She just made me realize I was sitting on it for the wrong reason."
"Which is?"
"I thought I deserved it."
The honest answer surprises him. I see it on his face. It surprises me too—I didn't know I was going to say it. But it's true, and it's the only piece of this entire situation that he was ever going to understand.
"Why didn't you? Why didn't you take a swing at me, West? Before. You had cause."
"Because I came here trying to be a better man than I was, and taking a swing at the captain was a thing the man I used to be would do." I stand up. "Yesterday, my girlfriend did the thing she should never have had to do. So now I'm doing the thing I should have done ages ago. We clear?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, he picks up the wrap and goes back to his hands.
"Reaper."
"We're clear, West."
I walk out.
I drive home with my hands shaking on the wheel and a strange light feeling in my chest that I don't have a name for yet.
Nora's at the kitchen counter when I walk in. Harper's in the bouncer at her feet. The kitchen smells like garlic and onions and something good in the oven.
She looks up, reading my face.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"How did the meeting go?"
"You're barred indefinitely. Statement goes out this afternoon. The relationship is public by tomorrow."
"Okay."
"And I talked to Reaper after practice."
She pauses. "Talked?"
"With words. No slapping. He listened."
A small, dry smile starts at the corner of her mouth.
"And?"
"And I told him what I should've told him months ago." I lean against the counter, suddenly tired in a way that has nothing to do with the day. "I think it's going to be okay. Not easy. But okay."