“Does Badaszek know?”
“I think so.” Grady lets out a long exhale.
“But the whole thing could easily be substantiated if you disclosed your medical history. Why didn’t they believe you?”
“I didn’t defend myself.”
“But you didn’t have to take the fall.”
He nods in a way that tells me he hasn’t even gotten to the hard part. “The guy on my team, Lucan, and my ex were having an affair. They plotted the whole thing to get me out of the picture.”
Hackles up, I practically growl. “Seriously? Was this before or after the two of you confronted him?”
“Before, during, after.”
“That’s awful. Never mind Mean Girls. Mean Couple. I’m sorry. But you could’ve exposed them, watched them burn.” But Grady isn’t like that.
“I could’ve, but Alivia knew about my medical condition and that I’d withheld it from the officials.”
“But would diabetes affect your play as a defenseman?” I ask with disbelief.
“Yes and no. Yes, because there are certain policies in place that would put me in a position where I’d be handled more carefully.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
He turns to me, expression plaintive. “When we were still in school, the nurse had to check my sugar levels until I was able to do it myself. Heidi, all I’ve ever wanted was to fit in.”
I can tell by the pain in his voice there’s more to that part of his story.
“And spoken or unspoken, if the diabetes diagnosis became common knowledge, not only would I potentially be treated differently but I might not be picked.”
“So you neither confirmed nor denied the accusation. You took the fall.”
He nods, then says, “And Lucan made sure I fell hard. They started rumors online. Mostly whispers at first, but it grew in certain circles. The coaches started asking me things about my personal life.”
“So that’s why you deleted yourself from social media.”
“More or less.”
“And now?”
“Now I see it was all for the best.”
“How do you factor that?”
The corner of his mouth lifts with a smile. “I’m here.”
Lady Justice in me is perturbed. Ready to run down to City Hall and strike . . . or something. But this isn’t a superhero movie. “Derek said Coach Badaszek hasn’t played you yet.”
“But he will . . . and I won’t let Lucan forget what he did,” Grady says.
I pull out my phone and search for that player only to find articles about him recently getting married, then after nine months, divorcing Alivia.
I have to admit the timing freaks me out, given gestation and my pregnancy, but I scour the internet and there is no interruption of her being photographed with Lucan while sporting a baby bump.
The two of them lived a high-profile, party life. That would never fly with Badaszek.
“They look like a match made in—” But before I finish that sentence, I say, “But they’re divorced now.”