From across the table, Alex muttered something to the teammate beside him, eyes flicking derisively in Liam’s direction. Though the words were indistinct, the snide tone carried clearly.
“Got something to share with the whole team, Pasternak?” Liam challenged, his voice cutting through the room.
Alex straightened, adjusting his splint with exaggerated care. “Just wondering if you’re actually present for this meeting, or if you’re too busy thinking about your babysitter back home.”
A charged silence fell over the room. Several players shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Coach’s marker stilled against the whiteboard.
“You really want to go there again?” Liam’s voice was dangerously quiet. “After what happened this morning?”
“Enough,” Coach barked. “Both of you. This stops now.”
Alex smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Just saying what everyone’s thinking. Anderson’s checked out. His mind’s not on hockey anymore, not since he started screwing the help.”
Liam was halfway out of his seat before he felt a restraining hand on his shoulder. The team captain, Tyler Reynolds, shook his head slightly.
“Not worth it,” he murmured. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.”
With supreme effort, Liam sank back into his chair, fists clenched on the table before him.
The rest of the meeting passed in a tense blur. When Coach finally dismissed them, Liam was the first out the door, striding rapidly toward the exit. He’d nearly reached his car when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.
“Liam! Hold up.”
Tyler jogged to catch up with him, concern etched on his weathered face. At thirty-five, the captain was one of the few players older than Liam, a veteran presence respected throughout the league.
“What?” Liam snapped, not slowing his pace.
“Look, I know it’s none of my business—”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
“—but as someone who’s been where you are, I thought maybe you could use a friendly ear.”
That stopped Liam in his tracks. “What do you mean, ‘been where I am’?”
Tyler glanced around the parking lot, ensuring they were alone. “My wife and I… we lost a baby. Before Emma was born.”
The admission caught Liam off guard. Tyler Reynolds — steady, reliable Tyler, with his picture-perfect family featured on the team’s holiday card each year — had experienced the same devastating loss that was currently tearing Liam’s world apart.
“How did you…” Liam trailed off.
“Get through it?” Tyler supplied. “Not easily. And not alone.” He studied Liam’s face for a moment. “That’s what’s happening with you and the nanny, isn’t it? You lost a baby.”
“How did you know — that was what I was going to ask,” replied Liam.
“I recognized that look in your eyes. I’ve seen if before, in the mirror,” said Tyler. “It’s a special kind of hell.”
Liam swallowedhard against the sudden tightness in his throat. “Yeah. It is.”
“If you ever want to talk—”
“I don’t.” The words came out harsher than intended. “But… thanks.”
Tyler nodded, accepting the rejection without offense. “Just remember, whatever you’re going through, pushing everyone away only makes it worse. Trust me on that.”
As Tyler walked back toward the facility, Liam’s phone buzzed yet again. Sunny’s name flashed on the screen, accompanied by a text message:
The girls are asking about you. Will you be home for dinner?
