“I’m not avoiding anything,” Liam replied, his voice tight. “My performance on the ice—”
“Has been abysmal,” Parker cut in sharply. “Your stats are down across the board. Two crucial missed shots in the Denver game, that ridiculous penalty against Phoenix… this isn’t the Anderson the Coyotes signed.”
“Every player has rough patches,” Liam countered, though Sunny could hear the strain in his voice.
Parker’s laugh held no humor. “This is more than a rough patch, and we both know why. Your little domestic experiment is distracting you from what should be your primary focus. The board’s patience has run out.”
Sunny flinched at the phrase “domestic experiment,” the casual cruelty making herhand tremble. Coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug, scalding her fingers. She set it down on the edge of Liam’s desk, intending to slip away unnoticed, but Liam’s eyes met hers, a silent apology in their depths.
“I’ll need to call you back,” Liam said into the phone, not waiting for a response before disconnecting.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Sunny wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the early autumn morning.
“How much did you hear?” Liam asked finally.
“Enough.” She attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. “He has a real gift for making people feel worthless, doesn’t he?”
Liam ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Parker’s an ass, but he’s not wrong about my performance. I’ve been… distracted.”
Sunny noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. This wasn’t just about one phone call; it was the culmination of weeks of mounting pressure.
“The ultimatum from last month wasn’t enough?” she asked. “They’re still pressing this issue?”
“It’s gotten worse.” Liam’s voice was hollow. “It’s become clear they’re not just threatening my contract — they’re actively moving to trade me.”
The revelation hit Sunny like a physical blow. Trading Liam would mean uprooting the entire family — new city, new school for the girls, new home. Everything they had built would be dismantled in one cruel corporate decision.
“Can they really do that?”
“It’s part of the business.” Liam’s bitterness was palpable. “Coach Hendricks warned me last week. Said management was having ‘serious discussions’ about my future with the team. This call just confirmed it’s no longer a threat — it’s a plan in motion unless I ‘correct the situation.’”
The clinical phrasing made Sunny’s stomach turn. “Correct the situation,” she repeated numbly. “Meaning me.”
“This isn’t on you,” Liam insisted, rising from his desk to take her hands in his. “This is about narrow-minded executives protecting their brand at all costs — even throwing away nearly twenty years of loyalty.”
But the guilt had already taken root, twisting like a knife in her chest. Every tabloid headline, every whispered comment from other parents at school, every troubled look on the girls’ faces when they noticed the tension — it all led back to her presence in their lives.
“I should go,” she murmured, pulling her hands from his. “You’ll be late for practice.”
His fingers caught her wrist. “Sunny—”
“We’ll talk later,” she promised, not meeting his eyes.
Later never came. The morning dissolved into a blur of lunch-packing and permission slip-signing, of Maddie’s silent brooding and Hailey’s forced cheerfulness. As Sunny shepherded them toward the car, Beth appeared with a basket of folded laundry.
“Don’t forget Maddie has her dentist appointment at three,” the housekeeper reminded her. “I’ve left the insurance card on the counter.”
Sunny nodded, grateful for Beth’s steady presence. The older woman had become a quiet ally in the weeks since the scandal broke, deftly deflecting nosy questions from delivery people and neighbors, shielding the girls from whispered gossip when possible.
“Thanks, Beth. I’ll get her there on time.”
Beth cast a critical eye over Sunny’s thin frame. “And perhaps stop for lunch yourself afterward? You’re fading away before our eyes.”
The gentle concern nearly broke Sunny’s composure. She managed a tight smile andherded the girls toward the car before emotion could overwhelm her.
School drop-off was an exercise in avoidance. Sunny kept her head high as she guided Maddie and Hailey toward the entrance, painfully aware of the stares from other parents, the hushed conversations that abruptly halted as she passed.
“Bye, sweetie,” she said, kissing Hailey’s forehead. “Have a wonderful day.”
