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“I heard a rumor that she broke some kid’s nose at the rink at a friends-and-family day.”

Kodie drops the menu on the table and drags his hand down his face.

“Adrian fucking Scott,” he groans. “I swear to God, that kid has a death wish. His life would be so much easier if he just left her alone, but he’s always fucking there, taunting her, driving her fucking crazy.”

“Well, you know what they say…this kid is obviously utterly in love with Sutton.”

He laughs, but there isn’t any amusement in it. “Fair fucking play if he is, because Sutton spends her days planning how to make his life a living hell. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a little voodoo doll of him when I clean her bedroom one day.”

“What’s their deal?”

“They’re hockey kids, and the competitive streak is strong. Adrian wants to prove himself, and Sutton? Well, she’s better than him. Just like I am his dad,” he tags on, making me smirk. Arrogant fucker.

“What was his surname again?”

“Scott,” Kodie tells me, giving me a minute to think.

There have been a few Scotts over the years, but none of them really stand out.

“Theodore,” he finally adds. “Blew his knee out while he was playing in the AHL.”

“A couple of years older than us at college,” I muse.

“That’s the one,” Kodie confirms. “Adrian has a chip on his shoulder. Not only because Sutton is a better player than him, but her dad made it and his didn’t.”

“Ouch.”

“We can’t all be legends.” He chuckles, resting back against the cushion behind him.

“I guess not.”

Silence falls, but thankfully, our server comes over and breaks it.

But once she’s retreated, it quickly returns.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry. I was an asshole.”

“Understatement much?” Kodie mutters.

“Yeah, I was a lot of an asshole.”

“Yeah. I have been, too, and I’m sorry as well. I should have realized you were struggling and fought harder for you, for us. I let you down, and for that, I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself.” Honesty flickers through his eyes.

“I forgive you enough for both of us. This isn’t your burden to carry. I was fucked up back then. Hell, I was fucked up a long time before I imploded. I was just better at hiding it.”

He frowns, watching me closely, waiting for me to finally explain.

“My dad…” I start, swallowing hard and shaking my head. “No matter what I did, it was never good enough for him. It started small, but as the years went on, his criticism got worse, the way he’d analyze my performance and tell me that I’d never be as good as him, that I’d never manage to achieve a career anywhere close to what he had⁠—”

“That’s bullshit,” Kodie snaps.

I shrug.

“If I were to ask him, he’d probably tell me he was encouraging me to be better. I guess on some level, he was. I pushed so hard to try and make him happy, to try and make him proud. But it was never enough.

“If we got an L, he’d find a way to put the blame on me. If I had defended better, if I’d have made that shot, if I didn’t give away a penalty…the list goes on.”

“Shit, man. I always knew he was hard on you, but I didn’t know how bad it was.”