Page 52 of Pucking Secret

Work isbeyond busy throughout the next week. We’re in the thick of it now with a full game schedule on top of practices, which means minor injuries, old injuries causing new problems, stiff muscles, and sore joints. I haven’t been able to see much of Owen since our night together as a result of my packed workload. It also doesn’t help that Lilah has been busy with a college group project all this week. I’ve had to leave work early every day in order to pick Millie up from school.

Owen’s been busy too, of course. Conditioning, practice, and a demanding game schedule has been sucking up all his time. He’s also been working on securing permanent residency so he can play in the States without the need to constantly reapply for a work visa. We see each other around the stadium. I’ll sneak out to watch some of the practices, or he’ll come in for PT, though I’m not always his therapist since we’re so busy with other players.

He’s been making sure I know he’s thinking about me, though. Every night he texts me and his messages are pretty… explicit.

Owen: I can’t stop thinking about that pretty pussy of yours and how sweet it tastes.

Owen: Next time, I’m going to tie you down and spank that plump ass until it’s red and raw.

Owen: You’re all I can think about when I jerk my cock. I think I’m addicted to you, baby.

Owen: I didn’t know polo shirts could be sexy, but the way you wear them makes me so hard.

I’m often left hot and bothered by his texts, and more than once I’ve fingered myself while lying in bed as I’ve reread his dirty words. It only relieves the pressure for a little while, though, and isn’t nearly as satisfying as having his hands on me. Owen’s messages and my growing neediness is making it hard to think logically about my situation with him. I’m still struggling to decide whether to tell him the truth about Millie or not.

Part of me knows it’s the right thing to do. That Millie deserves to know her father, and that Owen deserves a chance to be a father to her. The other part of me is terrified — terrified of his family in Canada. Terrified of the trust that is still so tentative. Terrified of the heartbreak it could cause Millie if things don’t work out.

I need advice. I need someone who’s been there since the beginning and knows exactly what I went through raising Millie by myself.

On Friday, I’m able to leave work earlier than usual, so I decide to visit my Gram before I have to pick Millie up from school. I’m going to tell her what’s going on with Owen, eventhough it’s not going to be easy. I don’t know if Gram is going to approve of the two of us being… intimate.

Still, she’s the one person I can turn to in order to get some perspective right now.

Arriving at the facility, I check in and make my way to Gram’s room. Her door is open and she’s sitting in her rocking chair by the window, just like when I brought Millie to visit her before.

I knock on the door. She looks up from her current knitting project and her softly lined face lights up when she spots me. Setting down her needles, Gram pushes to her feet. She’s wearing an adorable knit sweater with a black and white cat on the front, and her gray hair is pulled back into a neat bun.

“Oh, Stacey! Hello dear. What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in!”

Smiling, I step into the room and give her a tight hug.

“Hey, Gram,” I say. “Sorry for coming by unannounced.”

“No need to apologize,” she assures me, lowering herself back into her chair. “I’m always happy to see you. No Millie today?”

I shake my head as I sit on the footrest to her rocking chair, clasping my hands in my lap.

Gazing up at her, I say, “Millie’s still in school. I wanted to visit you alone… I need to talk to you.”

Gram frowns, her eyes flashing with concern. “What is it, dear? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I sigh. “Mostly. I told you before that I ran into Owen, right? He’s playing for the Night Hawks now.”

Gram nods. “Yes, I remember. How has that been going?”

“It’s… complicated,” I admit. “Owen and I have been spending time together, and… and he doesn’t know about Millie. He never did, apparently.”

Gram’s eyes go wide. “What? How do you know that? You said you left him a voicemail when you first found out you were pregnant.”

“I don’t think he got the message. I’m not sure… maybe his phone wasn’t working or something? I remember no one could get a hold of him the day he left. All I know is that he’s interacted with Millie a few times now, and he’sneverbrought up the possibility of being her father. It’s not even crossing his mind as a possibility. It doesn’t seem like he knew she existed in the first place.”

“My, my,” Gram murmurs, shaking her head in shock. “That changes things, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” I drop my head in my hands and groan. “He still left. He still sent that letter to me. Does not knowing about Millie really make that much of a difference?”

Gram reaches out and grabs one of my hands, gently pulling it from my face.

“It does,” she insists. “You know it does. You need to talk to him, Stacey. Tell him that Millie is his daughter. It’s the right thing to do.”

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