Page 110 of Pucking Forbidden

“None of my business?” Liam scoffs. “You moved out of your apartment without a word. You don’t come home for Thanksgiving. Is this why? To chase after a hockey player? Look at him, Hadley! He’s too old for you. He’s a twenty-seven-year-old defenseman. I know what hockey players are like. Constantly on the road, surrounded by puck bunnies. He has nothing to offer a girl with your potential. This is not the kind of man I want for your future.”

The words hit me square in the chest, and they press against the old wounds I’ve been trying to heal deep inside me. My fists clench so hard at my sides that my knuckles turn white. I take a step forward, but Hadley snaps before I can even open my mouth.

“You don’t get to choose who I’m with!” she declares. “I am tired of you acting like my life belongs to you, Dad!”

Liam looks momentarily stunned, but then his eyes narrow. He glances at me, his nostrils flaring, before looking back down at her.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Hadley,” he murmurs. “Why would you throw away your future for a man who’s leaving you anyway?”

The hallway goes dead silent. The blood in my veins freezes.

Hadley turns her head to look at me, frowning in confusion.

“What?” she shakes her head. “What are you talking about? Julian’s not leaving me.”

Liam arches a brow. “Oh, he isn’t, huh?”

She blinks up at me. “Julian…what is he talking about?”

My throat goes dry. I try to swallow, but it feels like swallowing glass. “Hadley, let me explain…”

“Explain what?” Liam cuts in, crossing his arms. “Ask him, Hadley. Ask him about the contract discussions with Chicago. Ask him why he called me a few weeks ago for help to look over an offer they were preparing for him. He’s been planning to leave Denver since the start of the season.”

Hadley looks like she’s just been struck in the face with a slap shot. She steps back from me. The confusion on her expression morphs into a deep hurt that hits me harder than any physical blow I’ve ever taken in my life.

“Chicago?” she whimpers, her eyes searching mine. “You…you’re leaving?”

“Hadley, listen to me.” The panic is a wild, clawing animal in my chest. “I was considering it because of Mrs. Clay. She’s sick, and I thought I needed to be closer to home to take care of her. I asked your dad to look over the legalities.”

“And?” Her brow is furrowed as she stares up at me. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I didn't want to worry you,” I explain, my voice cracking. “I didn't want to tell you about a problem that hadn't even happened yet. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I turned them down. The day after Thanksgiving, I met with their coach, and I told him no. I don’t want to leave Denver. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Thanksgiving?” she gasps, her face draining of color as her eyes widen with realization. “That’s where you went that morning…you were meeting with the coach when I was there with you, and you still didn’t say anything to me.”

I swallow, my heart hammering painfully against my chest. “I…I know. I should’ve said something, but no one else knew apart from your dad and Coach. I didn’t even tell Mrs. Clay, but she figured it out…”

“So my dad and grandfather knew, but not me?” A tear slips down her cheek. “I’m just the idiot waiting for you, thinking we were building something together, when the whole time you were planning on leaving anyway.”

“Hadley…”

“How long were you planning on hiding it from me?” she demands, her voice breaking, her shoulders shaking beneath my massive hoodie. “Were you just going to put it behind you and pretend it never happened? Were you ever going to tell me the truth?”

I don't have a good answer, because the truth is that she’s right. I thought since I decided to stay, I could just lock that door, bury the key, and protect her from the uncertainty of my messy life. Now, looking at the hurt on her face, I realize how stupid I was. I’ve just been a coward, hiding behind my old habits of isolation.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Hadley, I’m so sorry.”

She looks between me and her father, and then lets out a ragged breath.

“I need space,” she mutters. “I can’t do this right now. Don't follow me, Julian. You too, Dad. Just…leave me alone…both of you.”

She turns on her heel and marches down the hallway, her boots clicking against the concrete until she disappears through the exit doors.

The silence she leaves behind is suffocating.

Her father shakes his head and lets out a huff of air before turning to follow her, despite her insistence that she wants to be alone.

“Hold on,” I blurt, stepping in front of him.