Page 18 of Play Your Part

He was the only parent I had left.

My father waited for me to join the video call, his expression unreadable. When he glanced up from his phone and saw me, his face broke into a smile. Never had I been more grateful for a father who could simultaneously be disappointed in me and love the shit out of me. Not hearing from him this last week had set me on edge. We didn’t talk or text every day, especially with his near-constant travel, but after something this high profile, I didn’t understand why he hadn’t saidanything.

Maybe he was too disappointed for words.

Or maybe he needed us to see each other to talk.

“Hey, Dad,” I said as I leaned against the wall. I wished we were together in person so I could lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder, the one I leaned on in the immediate aftermath of Mom’s death. It was him and me in a self-imposed grief bubble only we could understand.

His eyes narrowed, assessing my face, looking for signs I wasn’t okay. “How’s my girl?”

“Okay…” I said, unsure how to answer that question. Before that stupid photo, my dad had no idea about my relationship with Justin. And now, I would have to tell him I was dating his newly acquired black sheep of the NHL. The thought made my stomach sink to the floor. Having only each other, we tended not to beat around the bush. “I’m sorry, Dad. About the party. And the news. I didn’t —”

My father held up a hand. “What were you thinking?”

The question didn’t seem rhetorical, but I didn’t know what, exactly, he referred to, so I remained quiet.

“Justin Ward, Kennedy? Of all the men in the world, of all the men onmy team,you pickhim?”

Maybe this was the real reason I’d waited so long to tell my dad about Justin. Justin wanted to wait, and I never pushed it. Partially because I didn’t think I could convince Justin, and I didn’t want the disappointment. But… maybe I knew my dad wouldn’t approve, and I couldn’t stand to have that confirmed. Justin had been my tether to a life; I didn’t want that broken, even if some part of me knew I wasn’t truly happy.

“He made you hide your relationship,” Dad went on. “That tells me everything I need to know.”

I blinked. Who told him Justin made me keep this secret?

As if reading my mind, he added, “You think I don’t know why you didn’t tell me?”

“Dad—”

He frowned. “I hate that you didn’t think you could talk to me.”

“I agreed not to.” An agreement I quickly regretted, but I didn’t want to rock the boat between Justin and me. Waiting to tell people until the time was right felt like a small sacrifice.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Dad asked, “You hear how problematic that is, right?”

“Dad—”

“Kennedy, I don’t care who he is,” he continued, undeterred, voice still low but growing in conviction. “All I’m going to say is, he’s lucky he’s multiple states away.”

I huffed a sigh of relief that his disappointment stemmed from concern rather than disapproval. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Where have you been staying?” He sipped from his water bottle.

“Gemma’s.”

He nodded a quick bob of approval. “Good. I don’t want you shacking up with a guy you just met because you think you can’t come home.”

“I-I’m not…” Even with a lifetime of his directness, I shrunk beneath it and fumbled my way through a response.

“Because you can come home,” he said, looking at me pointedly. “Any time.”

His words brought a sting of heat to my eyes. The words weren’t new, but I hadn’t ever embarrassed him this way before. Disappointed him, sure. He made it clear he disapproved of how I’d never re-enrolled into college and quit working for the Wolves. It wasn’t that he expected me to work for the team, but he expectedmore.Leeching child of a billionaire was a played-out cliché, one he never thought he would have to deal with. Since I was young, I’d had a plan, one of academic success before following his footsteps into business.

But after a heart attack nearly took him down and my mother died, I found it hard to care. What was the point of a plan when it could be demolished by something out of our control?

“I know,” I said with a swift nod. “Thank you.”

The gratitude was real, but this level of support had been my crutch. I thought about the list I found—the list with items I thought might make me happy. And one of them was moving out. Not to get away from my father, but to stand on my own.

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