I struggle with how to feel. Relieved. Confused. Uncertain. At a loss. I’d think one of them would stand out, but it’s been so long since I’ve been given a chance to have an emotion other than shame and anger when it comes to my dad, that I don’t know how to feel.
And then there’s the fact that he’s over there staring at me but can’t voice the word.
I should be angry at that. I should expect more . . . but I lost hope over that so very long ago.
So what now? How do I proceed?
While Jonah’s body bears physical scars, mine are within, unseen, and just as devastating.
Some scars may never heal, but for the first time, it seems I’ve accomplished what he never thought I could. I won the Cup. I lived up to his ridiculous standards.
And a part of me suddenly feels free.
While I shouldn’t give a fuck that I made my dad proud or happy because he stole or dominated so many years of my life, I have more to be thankful for than angry about right now.
I did this for Jonah.
I did this for me.
I did this for my team.
I’ve found Dekker.
Now I can really live.
A dream has been won. My heart is full because of the love of a woman I never thought I’d deserve.
I’m a winner in more ways than one.
And fuck . . . I’m thankful.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
DEKKER
1 week later
HE’S IGNORING ME.
Plain ignoring me.
Chase, Lennox, and Brexton are all out pursuing new clients, and I’m sitting here trying to figure out why he keeps getting up and shutting his door every time a phone call comes in.
Is it the doctor? Isn’t that how this all started to begin with? My dad asking me to accomplish something and all of us in a panic that something was wrong with him?
I glance at my dad through the glass window of the conference room, but his back is to me as he talks to whoever has called him this time.
And it’s not like phone calls are uncommon. That’s all we do in here—talk and talk and talk some more.
So why am I on the defensive without him saying a word? Why am I panicked to talk to him and desperate to as well?
It’s because he knows. It’s because I failed him and his request. Sure, the status reports were cute and my sisters and I went back and forth with our facetious comments, but I failed to bring Hunter to the firm and now he’s trying to figure out something else to keep this place afloat.
Overthink much, Dekk?
Jesus.
I blow out a breath and walk to the door, my hand ready to knock when he opens it.
“You got a sec?” I ask when he just stares at me. He looks frazzled. Hair mussed from his hands running through it, and cheeks flushed.
“What do you need? I’m kind of in the middle of something,” he says, striding back to his desk and shuffling through his papers.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?” he says, completely preoccupied. “I have an appointment. They should be here any moment.”
“Dad,” I say more firmly.
His head comes up and sees me for what I think is the first time. “Sorry. Yes.” He stops shuffling. “What is it?”
I shift my feet and stress over asking the question, a grown woman reduced to feeling like a little girl who’s about to disappoint her father. “It’s been a week since they won the Cup. Why haven’t you asked me about Hunter’s status on switching agents?”
Especially since you know I go home to him most nights.
He stares at me with an intensity that unnerves me. “I need you to sit down a moment.”
“It’s not a big deal. Forget I asked. I can see that you’re busy.”
I’m practically walking back toward my desk when he says, “Sit.”
So, of course, I do.
He takes his own seat, his eyes flicking over my shoulder to where our receptionist Marge is speaking to someone, presumably his client.
“How do you think the Jacks won the Cup?”
What?
“The best team won?” I sound uncertain, even though I know my statement is true. The Jacks were the best team in the Cup. They peaked at the right time and the distractions and outside noise faded away. “This isn’t about the Jacks. This is about Hunter and how I failed you.”
His laugh is a low chuckle. He knows more than I do. “I’ll ask you the question again. How did they win the Cup?”
I pause. I can see it in his eyes. This is one of his life-lessons moments. The last time we had one, he pushed me to find love—to give my whole heart. And I did. I let go of my fear, and I believed love was possible. I realized it was worth the risk.
And that’s when it hits me.
“They won because they believed they could. They won because they played as a team. They won because they trusted their captain and wanted those endless hours of pain and hard work to count for something. They let go of their fear of losing and believed in themselves.”
My dad’s smile isn’t something he gives quickly, but right now, I see my favorite one. Pride. He’s proud of me, and somehow I don’t think it’s simply about my answer.
“You’re right. They played as a team. Just like we do here. What you drop, another will pick up. What I drop, same goes. We’ll survive without Maddox . . . but you’re missing my point.”
“What is your point then?”
“His point is that he sent you to recruit me.”
I gasp at the sound and then the sight of Hunter standing in the doorway to my dad’s office. He’s leaning against the doorjamb, his thumb hooked in one belt loop of his jeans, and he has a sheepish smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
“Because he saw more in me than I could see in myself. He saw potential through my anger and skill through my antics. He saw something that most dismissed. He knew if I could get my head in the right place, that would be to my benefit. He knew that you’d see me as more than a hockey player when that’s all anyone had. He knew that you’d help me see through the pain because like me, you were fighting your way through it too.”
I stare at him as my jaw falls lax and my heart swells. And there are tears. For some reason, tears are welling when there’s nothing to be sad about.
Because I’m not sad.
No.
I’m so damn happy, so fulfilled, that I never knew this feeling was real or possible or something I wanted to feel.
“Is that right?” I finally ask.
“Yes. That’s right.” I turn to face my dad and shake my head as I try to process what he means. “I didn’t realize it at first.” He chuckles as he stands and leans his hips against the credenza at his back. “I thought you were the right one to go after Hunter because you were dogged, and I didn’t think you’d take any of his shit, but the more I talked to you, the more you questioned me, I realized everything Hunter just said was true. That you two were more alike than I’d ever thought. Funny how fate is that way.”
I eye my father. I see the moisture he blinks away in his own eyes and can feel his pride for both me and Hunter.
He nods his head and smiles softly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for my client.” He holds his hand out to shake Hunter’s when he approaches him. “Good to see you. Congratulations, again.”