Page 114 of From Maybe to Baby

And I’m okay with that.

18

JONAS

I spot them during warm-up.Three figures in the family section—two tiny ones in Aftershocks gear and one trying very hard to look professional while wearing my jersey number.

For a second, I think I'm seeing things. Wouldn't be the first time pre-game adrenaline played tricks on my focus. But then Lukas stands up, holding what has to be the world's largest "GO DAD!" sign, definitely made with his signature combination of hockey sticks and glitter.

Jace bounces next to him in her own tiny jersey, waving what appears to be a princess wand. And between them...

I miss my next warm-up shot completely.

"Eyes on the ice, Knight," Coach barks, but he's grinning. Because of course he knows. Everyone knows. Except me.

My teammates zoom past me, smirking and slapping me on the back. One of my buddies actually winks as he goes by. "Nice support section, man."

I glance up again. Alexa's trying to wrangle the kids back into their seats while simultaneously pretending this is all veryprofessional research. Her notepad's out, like she's actually here to write about hockey instead of making my heart stop in the middle of warm-ups.

Vince appears rinkside, tablet in hand. "PR's going to have a field day with this. The prodigal travel writer returns? Social media's blowing up."

"Focus, Knight!" Coach shouts as another shot goes wide.

But how do you focus when everything you've been missing is sitting in the family section, wearing your number and trying not to look like they never went missing to begin with?

The game starts rough. I'm distracted, off my rhythm, watching the stands instead of the puck. Coach is going to kill me if I don't get it together.

Then I hear it—Lukas's voice cutting through the crowd noise: "DAD! HOCKEY TIME!"

Just like he used to yell during practice. Before Paris. Before fear. Before running.

Something clicks.

The next play flows perfectly. The one after that even better. By third period, we're up by one and I'm playing like I've got something to prove.

Maybe I do.

Two minutes left. Tie game. The kind of moment that defines seasons.

I glance up one more time. Alexa's given up all pretense of professional distance, standing with the kids as they scream encouragement. She's even got Jace's princess wand.

The puck drops.

Time slows.

Everything narrows to this moment.

Perfect pass coming my way.

Clean breakaway.

Just me and the net and everything that matters.

The shot feels right before it even leaves my stick.

Top shelf.

Back of the net.

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