She quickly shoved the half-packed bag under her bed, wiping away tears she hadn’t realized were falling.
Liam’s heavy footsteps ascended the stairs, then paused outside her door. He knocked softly before entering, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions.
“You got the message about the benching,” he said, not a question.
Sunny nodded, struggling to maintain composure. “Are you okay?”
Liam’s bitter laugh held no humor. “Coach says I’m ‘distracted.’ That my ‘head isn’t in the game.’ And he’s right.” He stepped closer, hands hanging helplessly at his sides. “I can’t focus when everything we’ve built is being torn apart.”
“Because of me,” Sunny whispered.
“Because of their narrow-minded prejudice,” Liam corrected, though with less conviction than before. “Because they think they own me — my career, my personal life, my choices.”
“But they do, don’t they?” Sunny challenged gently. “At least professionally. You’ve given twenty years to hockey. It’s not just your career; it’s your identity, your financial security, the foundation you’ve built for the girls.”
Liam ran a hand through his hair in that familiar gesture of frustration. “We knew this would be complicated. We knew there would be pushback. But we agreed to face it together.”
“That was before Maddie started losing friends,” Sunny said, her voice breaking. “Before Hailey began asking if you’d lose your job because of me. Before Toronto started calling with trade offers.”
Liam’s head snapped up. “How did you—”
“I saw the email from Mike. I wasn’t snooping, I just—” She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is what this is doing to all of you.”
“So what are you suggesting?” There was an edge to Liam’s voice now, a wariness that told her he sensed what was coming.
Sunny couldn’t meet his eyes as she spoke the words she’d been dreading. “I think I should leave. For a while, at least. Until things calm down.”
The silence that followed was deafening. When she finally looked up, the pain in Liam’s expression nearly shattered her resolve.
“Are you serious?” he said, voice rough. “After… everything?”
“I’m trying to protect what matters most,” Sunny insisted, fighting to keep her voice steady. “The girls need stability. They need their father focused and present, not fighting a losing battle against team management or being traded across the country.”
“They needyou,” Liam countered, stepping closer. “Weneed you.”
A memory surfaced — her final day with the Martinez family, the only foster home where she’d felt truly welcome. Mrs Martinez weeping as she explained they couldn’t afford to keep Sunny after Mr Martinez lost his job. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, sweetheart,” she’d said, smoothing Sunny’s hair one last time. “Sometimes we have to make impossible choices.”
“I love you,” Sunny whispered, the words both a declaration and a lament. “I love you and the girls more than I ever thought possible. That’s why I can’t bear watching you all suffer because of me.”
“So you’d rather make us suffer by leaving?” Liam’s voice cracked on the final word. “How is that better?”
“Because itends the pressure,” Sunny explained, desperation rising as her throbbing headache intensified. “It gives you a chance to salvage your career, to keep the girls in their home and school, to return to some kind of normalcy.”
Liam turned away, pacing to the window. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft patter of rain against the glass. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him.
“Maybe you’re right.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. Sunny stared at his back, unable to process what she was hearing.
“What?” she managed to whisper.
Liam turned, his expression etched with a resignation that terrified her more than his anger had. “I said maybe you’re right. Maybe this is all too much, too soon.” He gestured vaguely, encompassing the world beyond the bedroom walls. “The team, the media, the girls…”
“Liam—” Sunny began, but faltered, unsure what she was even trying to say. Hadn’t this been what she wanted? His acknowledgment that leaving was the right choice?
“I look at what this is doing to the girls,” Liam continued, his voice hollow. “Maddie’s withdrawing. Hailey’s having nightmares again. My career—” He broke off, running a hand over his face. “Almost twenty years I’ve given to this team. It’s all I know, all I’m trained to do. If I lose that…”
He left the thought unfinished, but the implications hung heavy in the air. Without hockey, what was he? How would he provide for his daughters? The stability he’d fought so hard to maintain after Kate’s death would crumble to dust.
