Page 144 of Dirty Pucker

He handled it perfectly—honestly and on his terms.

I gaze down at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes. We ignore it, but it keeps buzzing with text after text. So does Del’s phone. I twist around and grab our phones from the coffee table and hand him his.

I skim my texts.

Maya: Have you seen the response to Del’s Instagram post? It’s so touching. People are being so kind <3

Sophie: Just saw Del’s Instagram post. I’m crying. He’s been through so much. I’m so glad he’s being open about it. I think a lot of people will be able to relate to what he’s been through. He’s really brave for sharing.

I tap my Instagram app and navigate to Del’s account. “Oh my gosh…”

Already his post has thousands of likes and comments. I swipe through the slides of text he wrote.

Hey. I’m sure you all heard what happened the other night. I just wanted to take a moment to clear the air.

I grew up watching my dad abuse my mom. As a little kid, my greatest wish was to be able to protect her, but I couldn’t.I was too small. I was helpless to do anything. He eventually left our family, and we were safe. When I grew up, I made a promise that I would take care of and protect my mom and my sister, no matter what.

After years of no contact with my dad, he inserted himself back into our lives. He started threatening my mom. And now that I’m old enough to do something about it, I did. That’s why I moved back to Denver and started playing for the Bashers. I wanted to be close to my mom and sister to protect them from my dad.

We tried every legal option to keep ourselves safe from him. I even helped my mom get a restraining order against him after he tried breaking into her house. But it wasn’t enough. Because as many of you sadly know, abusers don’t care about boundaries. They don’t care about your feelings or your sense of safety. They want what they want and they’ll do whatever it takes to get it, even if it means hurting you.

The other night, I got a call from my mom saying that my dad was chasing her down the freeway. I thought about all those times when I was a kid and I tried to stop my dad from hurting my mom and couldn’t. But now I could. I was old enough. I was big enough. I could protect her now. And that’s what I did. I protected my mom against my abusive dad. I hate that things got physical, but I don’t regret what I did. I’d do anything to protect my mom and sister. I know a lot of you would too.

I’m sorry if this post upsets any of you. I don’t mean for it to. I just wanted to tell people the truth about what actually happened. I know I’ve been a rough player on the ice. I know I fight a lot. But that’s only when I’m playing hockey. I would never, ever be like that in my personal life, except when I’m protecting the people I love.

Thank you for reading this and for giving me a chance to explain myself. I hope you understand where I’m coming from.

I skim through a handful of the comments.

Don’t apologize. You were protecting your mom. Any son would do what you did.

You’re a hero, man!

I’ll admit, I’m not a Bashers fan, but I’ll be cheering for you from now on. You’re a stand-up guy, Del.

I know what it’s like to grow up with an abusive parent. I’m so sorry you went through that. You’re an amazing son for what you did. I’m sure your mom and sister love you so much and are so proud of you.

No need to say sorry. Anyone who’s a decent person understands and supports what you did.

You don’t owe anyone an explanation, Del. Sending you and your family all the love <3

I blink, my eyes teary at the positive response Del’s post is getting.

When I look at him, I see tears in his eyes too, as he looks at his phone.

“Are you reading the comments on your post?” I ask.

He sniffles and nods. “I didn’t think people would be so supportive.”

I kiss his forehead. “They love you, Dirty Del.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. He sets his phone aside and rests his hands on my hips, pulling me closer. The doorbell rings and I slide off his lap.

“I’ll get it.” I walk over to the front door and see a half-dozen reusable grocery bags on his porch.

I grab a couple of the bags and bring them in as Del jogs over to help.

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