Brynne

I’m numb as I sit in the small waiting area that slowly fills with players and some of their wives. We’ve been here for hours, and all I know at this point is that my father had a heart attack and he’s in surgery.

It’s late, or early, depending how you look at it, but as exhausted as I am, I can’t close my eyes. All I can think is that this is my fault.

Rationally, I know it isn’t. But the guilt is still there.

And then there’s the way the players and their wives keep looking at me. Most don’t make it obvious, but I keep catching their glances, and the way they quickly look away.

Kane crouches in front of me, holding Noah, who’s fast asleep in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go lie down? There’s a room-”

“I’m fine.”

He nods and places a hand on my knee, which causes more raised brows.

“Why are they all here?” I say with more frustration than I have a right to feel. But I can’t help it as I glance around the room, feeling the weight of their stares.

Kane watches me with the same concern in his eyes he’s had since he received the phone call.

He received the call. That’s another thing that pricks at my chest. That Kane, rather than his own daughter, was his emergency contact.

“Do you want me to ask them to leave?”

“No.” What right do I have to do that? If anything, they have more right to be here than I do. They’re my father’s real family. I’m just the prodigal daughter – or, at least, that’s what I see in their eyes.

Judgement.

Suspicion.

And maybe I deserve some of it. I can imagine what my relationship with my father must look like to them. They worship the man. And, in a way, I don’t blame them. Because I once did, too.

There was no one like my dad. He was the biggest and strongest man I knew. And I saw the way people looked at him. With awe and reverence. Like he was their hero. Even now, I can see it in the players’ eyes.

The man was like a god. Strong. Indestructible. Unbreakable. It was easy to think that nothing would ever happen to him. That I had all the time in the world to be angry at him. To work out my frustrations – alone.

But if he dies...

I swallow hard, blinking back the tears that burn my eyes.

There are still so many things left unresolved between us. So much that still needs to be forgiven. Between both of us. It took tonight for me to realize that I need his forgiveness just as much as he needs mine.

But now, I may never get it.

“He’s going to be all right,” Kane says, squeezing my hand, his words brimming with the confidence I don’t feel. He stands when Noah starts to fuss, then picks up the diaper bag. “I’m going to see if I can find somewhere to heat up a bottle.”

I watch him walk out of the room carrying our son. It’s odd to see him with Noah in front of all these people, and I wonder how many of them have figured out that Noah is his.

Other than Blake, who isn’t here, I’m not sure who else Kane has told.

“I thought you could use a coffee.” One of the wives sits down beside me and hands me a Styrofoam cup filled with tarry looking liquid. “It came out of one of those machines, so I’m not sure how good it will be.”

“Thank you,” I say, taking it, and trying not to grimace when I take a sip.

“I’m Sophie.” She gives me a small, concerned smile.

“Brynne.”

She nods. “I know. Your father showed me your pictures.”

I frown at her. “He did?”

“And some of your art as well. You’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, not sure how to handle the confession. It doesn’t seem like something he would do.

“How are you holding up?” she asks, her deep brown eyes filled with genuine concern.

“I just wish they’d tell us something.”

“Waiting is always the hardest.”

No. Death is, I want to say. But I just nod.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, but when Kane comes back into the room and sits in one of the far chairs holding Noah, feeding him his bottle, the whispering begins again.

“He’s yours?” she asks, nodding at Noah.

“Yes.” Immediately, my walls go up, waiting for the probing to start.

“I have three,” she says, her eyes filling with pride. “Lily is eight. Emma is five. And the baby, Thomas, is two.” She pulls out her phone to show me pictures. “They grow up so fast. But the first couple years, I wondered if I’d ever sleep again. I had Matt, but you know their schedule. Some days, I feel like a single parent.”

She’s not prying, but I can see all the questions in her eyes. The same questions that everyone wants to ask, but hasn’t. They just keep tiptoeing around me. Whispering.

“He’s Kane’s. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but I give her credit, because there’s no judgment there, just normal curiosity.

“He looks like him.”

“He does.” I’m sure everyone else in the room is thinking the same thing.

I doubt this is the way Kane wanted to tell people, but it’s out now. And, in a way, it’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. No more secrets.

“Are you two together?” she asks. Normally, I’d tell the woman to mind her own business, but I can tell that she’s interested not for the sake of gossip, but because she cares for Kane.

That’s one thing the Annihilators have always encouraged - a sense of family among the players. If only my father would have brought that same sense of responsibility home with him.

Kane looks over at me, as if he heard Sophie’s question, which I know he couldn’t, not with people talking around us. But he raises an eyebrow as if in expectation of an answer.

“Yeah.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and nod.

“Good.” She smiles, then squeezes my hand. “He’s one of the good ones. But then, I guess you already know that.”

I look at Kane, who’s still watching me while holding a conversation with a couple of the other players. Noah reaches out to grab at the dark scruff on his jaw. Kane pulls his tiny fist away, kissing it before saying something to him that makes him give a full out baby-laugh around the bottle.

Kane laughs with him, and I see the brows around the room raise again.

When Sophie gets up to leave, a dark-haired man with piercing green eyes, that I recognize as Sebastian Wilde, takes her seat. He stretches his long legs out in front of him, rubbing his palms over his jeans.

I’ve known the man almost as long as I’ve known Kane. But he was never friends with Sam, so except for team parties, or the occasional game that I went to, I didn’t speak to him much. He was always just another arrogant hockey player who thought too highly of himself and made way too much money at far too young of an age.

He sits in silence. Even though I can tell he wants to say something, he just keeps staring at Kane with a worried expression on his face.

“Kane told you?” I ask, knowing Sebastian is one of his close friends. “About us.”

He gives me a side glance, and I see the flicker of suspicion and hurt in his gaze. “No.”

“Oh.”

“Figured it out tonight, though. The kid’s his?”

I nod, and he grunts in response.

“I know you two have some fucked up history together,” he says, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “But you hurt him…”

There’s a look of warning in his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about Kane. He can take care of himself.”

Sebastian grunts. “He’s been a mess for the past year. Didn’t know why. Now I do.”

He holds my gaze.

“Everything okay?” Kane is hovering above us, his brows drawn down. I didn’t even see him get up.

“Yeah.” I stand and take Noah from him.

“I hope your dad is okay,” Sebastian says, standing as well, jaw tight, his expression still holding a look of accusation. “He’s a good guy. He didn’t deserve this.”

He turns, slaps Kane’s shoulder, then walks back to the group of men who keep casting guarded glances at me.

“He thinks this is my fault,” I say, fighting the emotion that keeps threatening to spill over.

Kane’s nostrils flare and he glares at Sebastian, who’s still watching us. “Did he say that?”

“No. But he warned me not to hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just pissed that I didn’t tell him about us.”

I place Noah over my shoulder and rub his back. “They all know now.”

“Yeah.” A small smile tugs at Kane’s lips, and he places his large palm over mine on Noah’s back, a look of pride in his eyes. “They do.”

God, this man. He undoes me. I spent so many years fighting him. Blaming him. And yet, the way he looks at me, like I’m the most precious thing in the world, makes my insides melt. Brick by brick, he’s torn down the fortress I’d built to protect my heart. The problem is, it’s left me vulnerable.

I lean into him, and he wraps his arms around me, creating a cocoon for Noah and I.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Jacobs?” he whispers in my ear.

“I could handle hearing it again,” I mumble against his chest.

“You’re my world, Brynne.” He cups my jaw, brushing his lips across mine. It’s gentle and sweet, and I swear I hear every woman in the room sigh at the same time. “You and Noah. And whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

I believe him. More than that, I trust him.

I place my hand on his cheek and prepare myself to say the words I’ve been holding back. “I love-”

“Miss Jacobs?” A nurse in scrubs stands at the door holding a chart.

A nervous tension vibrates through the room which grows eerily quiet, except for the shuffling of clothes as people stand.

“That’s me.” I pull out of Kane’s embrace and take a step towards her, shifting Noah in my arms. My whole body trembles as I wait for what she has to say.

“The surgery went well.”

Relieved sighs and murmurs fill the room.

“Your father is in recovery right now. You can see him if you’d like.”

I’m shaking.

“He’s all right?” I ask, needing the confirmation.

“He’s stable.”

“Can I go with her?” Kane asks, placing his large hand on my lower back.

Strength.

Warmth.

Love.

I feel it all in his touch.

“Are you family?” The nurse asks, glancing down at her chart.

Kane starts to say no, but I interrupt him. “Yes. He’s his son-in-law.”

It’s a small lie, but I hear the muffled whispers around the room. Kane gives me a sidelong glance, one that I don’t meet.

The nurse gives us a skeptical look before nodding, and looking pointedly at Noah. “All right. But only the two of you.”

“I’ll take him,” Sophie says as she approaches, lifting Noah from my arms before I have the chance to protest.

Kane takes my hand and we follow the nurse down a series of halls. I try not to glance into the open doors. The place smells like death mixed with antiseptic and bleach. There are sounds of constant chaotic beeping mixed with my own heartbeat that thumps wildly in my ears.

“He’s in here,” the woman says, nodding to a room with no door. “He should be waking up soon.”

I take a step into the room, and my knees give out slightly when I see my father’s hulking form spread out on the small bed, tubes and machines everywhere.

Kane is there holding my elbow, and I lean into him, using his body to keep me upright.

Time is something I’ve always thought I had a lot of. It plays tricks on us. Sometimes slowing down, making us think that we have eternity. Sometimes speeding up, making us wonder where we wasted all those precious minutes.

And then there are moments when time freezes altogether. Moments of clarity, moments that change us. That make us realize how short this life really is. How wrong we were to waste even a second in resentment and blame.

I suck in a shaky breath. “He looks…”

“I know.” Kane kisses the top of my head. “But you heard what the nurse said. He’s stable. He’s going to be fine. Sit with him, Brynne.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he wouldn’t want me here.”

“He wants you here.” Kane cups my chin, forcing me to look at him. “There’s no one else in this world he’d rather have at his side when he wakes up than you.”

The way he says it, I almost believe him. Maybe I want to believe him.

“Okay.” I chew on my bottom lip and sit down beside the bed, hesitating before reaching through the metal bars to take my father’s hand.

His lids flutter slightly, but they only partially open, and only for a brief moment before closing again. He makes a small, strangled sound, and the machines beep irregularly.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“B-” he murmurs incoherently. “Bry-”

“You’re going to be all right.” I squeeze his hand, and his fingers attempt to squeeze mine back, but there’s no strength in them. He opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head. “Just rest. We can talk when you’re better.”

He closes his eyes, but before he drifts back to sleep, he mutters three words I haven’t heard from him in a very long time. “I…love…you.”