Page 47 of Pucking Strong

And there it is. In the jumble of Swedish, I see a thin black line. Under that line is my name: Theodore Malik O’Connor. For the second time in as many days, I’m about to sign my life away. I press the papers flat between Henrik’s shoulders, the pen poised over the signature line. If I sign this now, I’m accepting shared temporary custody of a child. And not, like, a cat child, or a plant, or a bearded dragon. Ahumanchild. A person.

Karolina.

I’ve only known her for a less than a week, and now I’m gonna be her father? “What if she doesn’t like me?” I whisper, my fingers pinching tight to the pen.

Henrik glances over his shoulder. “What?”

“Karolina. What if she doesn’t even like me? I don’t know the first thing about being someone’s dad. What if I do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing? What if I hurt her feelings? What if I get it all wrong?”

Elin’s eyes narrow. “All questions that should have been askedbeforeI filed.”

Ignoring the papers, I round on her. “You know what, fuck you, Glacier Ice Barbie. We know we rushed into this, okay? This was arash decision. And you’ve made your opinion on it crystal fucking clear. But Henrik was out of options.”

Henrik’s arm bands across my chest, pinning me to the wall. “Don’t.”

“She fucking started it,” I growl, pointing at her with the pen.

“Not here.”

“Well, my god, Henrik. If not here, thenwhere?” I gesture around the hallway of this Swedish children’s hospital ward. “Where am I allowed to completely lose my shit? Point me in that direction, because I am officially losing it.”

“Hey,” he says again, his free hand cupping my face. “Look at me.”

“Your lawyer is a jerk—”

“Don’t look at her. Look at me.”

My chest heaves as I let myself look at him. Fuck, I could lose myself in the blue of his eyes.

“She doesn’t matter.” He turns us so my back is to her. “Nothing else matters. Not the lawyers or the coaches, the agents, the doctors. Let them all fade away. At the end of the day, this is about you, me, and Karolina. Together, wewillfind a way to make this work. I swear it to you, Teddy. I will not fail you in this. One step at a time, right? Those were your words.”

Leaning against the wall, I search his face. “How can you put so much faith in me? You hardly know me.”

Without hesitation, he splays his hand over my heart. “Rent hjärta, remember? I trust this.”

With his free hand, he grabs my wrist, the pen dropping to the floor, and presses my palm to his chest. I flex my fingers, feeling the beating of his heart. “Do you trust me, Teddy? Do you trust my heart as I trust yours?”

He’s asking the wrong question. This isn’t about whether I trust the strength ofhisheart. The question is whether I can trust him not to crushmyheart. Because he has it in his hands in more ways than one. As surely as it now pulses under his palm, I know it beats only for him. Can I really trust him not to break it?

God help me, I know the answer is no.

But I pick up the pen anyway.

And I sign the form.

It’s been a whirlwind three days. Karolina was discharged from the hospital, and we finalized our travel back to the States. I also had to arrange the packing and storage of Petra’s apartment. Teddy helped me collect items for Karro, including some toys and clothes. Everything else that wasn’t perishables went into boxes. When the season ends, I’ll go through it all properly. For now, it’s just too painful. And we’re out of time.

Karro is sad to be leaving Sweden, but she perked up when Teddy told her I live less than three hours away from Disney World. She sits with him now on the private jet’s long sofa, her casted leg stretched out. She slept for most of the flight. They’ve been watching movies together for the last two hours. Teddy laughs when she confuses the words in the songs, singing in a silly mix of English and Swedish.

Before we began our descent into Jacksonville, he had the flight attendant make us all smoothies with a mix of fruit and veggies. I think he had her add a shot of vodka to mine. I don’t mind. In fact, I think it’s relaxing me. I take another sip.

The wheels rattle down in a rough landing, and the pilot announces our arrival. Tension builds in my chest as I peer out the window. Over at the private hangar, a small crowd waits for us. I curse under my breath. “What are all those people doing here?”

Teddy peers out the window and smiles. “Looks like we’ve got a welcoming committee.”

“A what?” I look closer, and some of my tension eases. My mind immediately went to this being some kind of media scrum. We get those on game days, especially during the playoffs. I wasn’t about to bring Karolina down in a wheelchair to the flash of a bunch of sports reporters’ cameras.

But the people aren’t reporters; it’s my team. I see the Prices standing on the end, all four of them with their children. Mars holds the little blond child on his hip. Caleb squats next to them, helping their older boy hold up a sign that says “Welcome Home, Karolina” in bright colors. Langley is here too with his wife and daughter. Poppy St. James waits front and center. Like Rachel, she’s pregnant. She and her daughter hold hands, waving at us.

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