Page 95 of Play Your Part

“She’s been a big part of my success this year.” Not only because she helped me turn the tide of public opinion, but she’d been there with me, every step of the way for the last three months.

“Why aren’t you together anymore?” The accusing set of Mom’s eyebrows told me all I needed to know. After one meal with Kennedy, she realized what I’d fought all along—how right she was for me. But it didn’t matter, not when I was fucking useless to her. Not when…

“I’m not sure she’s over her ex,” I said.

Justin fucking Ward showing up at the wedding doused our weekend with reality. We had kidded ourselves, pretending we could live in a bubble for one weekend, as if nothing else mattered. Not my reputation. Not her unresolved feelings for Ward. And not the fact that I couldn’t be what she deserved.

“And I am not cut out for a relationship.”

My mother’s eyes softened. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I’ve fucked up every relationship I’ve ever had. Always putting me and my goals first. Even with the woman I thought I would spend my life with, I couldn’t prioritize her over myself. I’m like him.” I nodded in my father’s direction. “In all of the good ways and in all of the fucking flawed ways—”

My father raised his voice over mine. “Hold on—”

But I plowed forward, needing to say what I’d danced around all these years. Ignoring how their relationship affected me allowed me to keep a close relationship with my father, but it also ate at me. “I don’t want to make someone I love feel like a second priority. To make them question their worth. To waste their time when someone else out there could give them the attention and support they deserve.”

My mother reached behind her, presumably to grab my father’s hand, communicating silently for him to let her handle this. By some miracle, he complied. Probably because this was the stage of their relationship where he was still on thin ice.

“For most of your life, you never said anything about your dad and me, but I always could see it, Alyosha. The disappointment each time he moved back into the house, not because you didn’t want him there, but because I kept allowing him to come back after we separated. It can take time to get it right. I don’t regret any of it.”

I let the words wash over me. She didn’t regret a single moment of their complicated relationship. She would do it again. That was how much she loved my father, enough to wait for him to figure it out. It should have filled me with something other than dread, because she thought the pain had all been worth it, but I could only think about the fear that I would inflict it on another person.

She continued, “Yes, you have big dreams, and dreams like those take dedication, but it doesn’t mean you have to go through life on your own. Neither has to be sacrificed. And if you’re worried you can’t see when you’ve got tunnel vision, find the person who won’t hesitate to call you on it.”

Kennedy would do that. She had no problem unloading her opinion on me or asking questions I never would’ve answered for anyone else. And I meant what I told her—Justin Ward wasn’t the right person for her. He wanted to stifle her growth, to keep her in the same place she’d been, which she said didn’t make her happy. She deserved more. When I pushed her on it, it wasn’t to give her a hard time, but to make her see that.

I was the kind of person she needed. Someone who wouldn’t let her shy away from something good in life because of her fear.

And she would never tolerate me pulling away from her, from becoming too focused on myself.

“It’s inevitable,” Mom continued, “you will hurt each other, sometimes when you don’t mean to, but you have to be willing to figure it out. That’s the secret to making it work.”

“I fucked up,” I whispered, my head in my hands.

“Then you need to fight for her. The same way you fought for your hockey dreams your entire life.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know that she feels the same way about me.”

“Feelings like that are hard to hide. They have a way of shining through.”

An image of Kennedy opening her eyes beside me in bed the morning of the wedding flashed in my mind. Sleep clouded her eyes as she turned toward me. She smiled, small and shy, and I wished—no, I knew—she liked me beside her. Liked it more than two strangers who reluctantly fake-dated and became friends. The night before, she’d kissed me, again and again, never letting our lips come out of contact, as if she couldn’t stand to part us. It was more than getting it out of our systems.

Still, it didn’t mean a relationship with me was something she wanted.

But I had to know. I had to fight for her and the life we could have together if she would allow it.

“I’ve retired,” Dad announced, pulling me back to the moment. A twinge of bitterness laced his words. Not at the retirement, but at me. He wasn’t used to me calling him out on anything, and he didn’t like it. Still, he looked me in the eyes, and I saw he cared. “That was what I needed to do to get the life I wanted with your mother, to prove to her I was serious. There’ssomethingyou can do to show Kennedy the same.”

“What does that mean, exactly? You retired?”

“I’m no longer coaching the junior Olympic team,” he replied. “I’m moving home. I’m thinking of private coaching. It’s not like we need the money, not with what you’ve given us. I only coached because I loved it. But I love your mama, and I’m choosing our life together going forward.”

I blew out a breath. This was… new and unexpected. He’d never said he would quit before. Could it be that after thirty years of screwing up, they’d finally gotten it right?

“I… don’t know what to say,” I stumbled, grasping for something to acknowledge what they shared. “I’m happy you’re both happy.”

I left outI hope it lastsbecause of the adoring way they stared at each other. The same shared look of adoration I’d seen between Matt and Gemma too many times to count. It hit me in the gut each time, because I wanted what they had.

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