Once, this reversal would have filled Liam with relief. His career salvaged, his future with the team secure. Now, he found himself oddly detached from the news.
“That’s… good,” he said finally, when Mike’s expectant silence demanded a response.
“Good? It’s fantastic! We were looking at a potential career-ending situation, and now they’re practically begging you to stay.”
“I appreciate you handling it, Mike,” Liam replied, unable to muster the enthusiasm his agent clearly expected. “Keep me posted on next steps.”
After ending the call, Liam leaned back in his chair, trying to understand his own muted reaction. The thing he’d feared losing most — his identity as a hockey player, the career he’d built over two decades — suddenly seemed secondary to what truly mattered: his daughters’ happiness and the woman who had brought light back into their home.
His gaze fell on a flash of color draped over his desk chair. Sunny’s scarf — the soft blue one she’d wrapped around his neck one frigid morning when he’d been rushing out to practice without proper winter gear.“Your body is your livelihood,”she’d scolded, tucking the ends neatly into his coat.“Take care of it.”
He reached for it now, the soft fabric sliding between his fingers, still carrying the faint scent of her vanilla shampoo. Something so simple, yet itembodied the countless ways she had quietly cared for all of them.
Liam
Time slipped away as Liam losthimself in work, the clock on his desk finally alerting him it was time for school pickup. He arrived early, parking in the designated area and settling on a nearby bench to wait. Other parents gradually filtered in, some giving him a wide berth, others nodding politely.
From his position, he could see into the kindergarten playground where Maddie’s class was having their final recess of the day. She stood slightly apart from a group of girls, her stance protective around a smaller child he didn’t recognize. Her expression — serious, determined — was so like Kate’s when she’d taken a moral stand that it made his heart clench.
Two teachers supervised nearby, their conversation drifting over on the light breeze.
“…never seen Maddie so assertive,” one was saying. “Usually such a quiet child.”
“Well, when Jenna started saying those things about her nanny, I thought we might have to intervene,” the other replied. “But Maddie handled it remarkably well for a six-year-old.”
Liam’s attention sharpened, his protective instincts flaring.
“What did she say exactly?” the first teacher asked.
“Something along the lines of, ‘Sunny chose to come back to us even when it was hard. That’s real love.’ Quite profound for a kindergartner.”
“She’s had to grow up fast, that one,” the teacher sighed. “After losing her mother, then all this drama with the nanny leaving and coming back…”
Their voices faded as they moved away, but Liam remained frozen, his daughter’s words echoing in his mind.
Sunny chose to come back to us even when it was hard. That’s real love.
His six-year-old understood love and commitment better than he had — the willingness to choose someone every day, especially when it was difficult.
The dismissal bell rang, and moments later the playground filled with children pouring from classrooms. Maddie spotted him first, her serious expression blooming into a smile as she grabbed Hailey’s hand and pulled her through the crowd.
“Daddy!” Hailey launched herself at him, her backpack bouncing. “Is Sunny at home? She didn’t leave again, did she?”
The question, so innocent yet revealing of her lingering fear, pierced Liam’s heart.
“She’s waiting for you at home,” he assured her, gathering both girls close. “Probably planning your after-school snack right now.”
The relief on their faces was palpable, another reminder of how deeply Sunny’s departure had affected them — and how tentative their sense of security remained.
On the drive home, the girls chattered about their day, the morning’s tension seemingly forgotten in their excitement to return to Sunny. Liam listened, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror at their animated faces, marveling at children’s resilience and capacity for joy even after heartbreak.
At home, the scene that greeted them confirmed Liam’s prediction. Sunny had arranged the girls’ favorite snacks — apple slices with caramel dip for Maddie, cheese cubes and crackers for Hailey — on the kitchen island.
“There’s my girls!” she exclaimed as they burst through the door. Her smile, while genuine, held a guarded quality around the edges, her eyes darting briefly to Liam before focusing fully on the children.
What struck Liam most as he observed from the doorway was the contrast between Sunny’s natural ease with the girls and her careful, measured interactions with him. With Maddie and Hailey, her movements were fluid and intuitive, anticipating their needs, responding to their stories with genuine interest. But when Liam entered her space, she became hyperaware, her posture stiffening slightly, her smile becoming more deliberate.
He also didn’t miss how often her gaze drifted to the collection of family photos on the wall — particularly those featuring Kate. There was something contemplative in her expression during these moments, not jealousy or discomfort, but something more thoughtful, almost reverent.
