Maddie’s accusation echoed in his mind: “You were scared she’d leave like Mommy did, so you made her go away first.”
Out of the mouths of babes. His six-year-old had seen right through him, had understood his motivations better than he had himself.
Liam’s body shook with silent sobs as he pressed his forehead against his knees. He’d become the very thing he’d always despised in teammates — the coward who abandoned the fight when it got tough, who took the easy way out instead of standing his ground.
Kate would be ashamed of him. The thought emerged unbidden, but once it surfaced, he knew it to be true. His fierce, loyal wife would be devastated to see what he’d become — a man so afraid of being hurt again that he’d inflict pain on those he loved just to maintain the illusion of control.
A memory surfaced from the fog of grief — Kate, heavily pregnant with Hailey, looking up at him with serious eyes after a fight. “Your problem, Anderson,” she’d said, “is that you’d rather shut people out than risk letting them see you’re human. It’s easier for you to push people away than to admit you’re scared.”
He’d laughed it off then, changing the subject with a kiss to her forehead. But she’d been right. She’d always been right about him.
The realization brought a fresh wave of anguish, but beneath it, something else stirred — a clarity born of hitting absolute bottom. He couldn’t fall any further. There was nowhere to go but up.
He thought of his father’s parting words: “Even good men make very big mistakes sometimes. The measure is whether they have the courage to fix them.”
Did he have that courage? Or was he the coward Sunny deserved to believe he was?
Liam lifted his head, wiping roughly at his tear-streaked face. For too long, he’d lived in the shadow of loss, letting fear dictate his choices. He’d convinced himself he was protecting his daughters, but in truth, he’d been shielding himself from the possibility of pain.
And in doing so, he’d inflicted pain far worse than any he’d feared.
Slowly, Liam pulled himself up from the floor, legs unsteady beneath him. He moved to his desk, gripping the edge for support as he stared at the frozen image of Sunny on his screen, her joyful face a testament to everything he’d thrown away.
She deserved better. His daughters deserved better. Hell, he deserved better than to live half a life, too afraid to reach for true happiness when it was offered.
He’d made a catastrophic mistake. The question now was whether he had the courage to try to fix it. For the first time since Sunny’s departure, Liam felt something other than despair — a tiny flicker of determination kindling in the ashes of his self-destruction. He had no idea if he could undo the damage he’d caused. He didn’t know if Sunny would even speak to him, let alone give him a second chance.
But he knew, with bone-deep certainty, that he had to try. Not just for her, or even for the girls, but for himself — for the man he wanted to be, rather than the frightened shell he’d become.
Liam straightened, wiping the last traces of tears from his face. Whatever happened next, he was done living in fear. Done running from emotional risk. Done letting ghosts dictate his future.
It was time to fight for what mattered. And heaven help anyone who stood in his way.
Liam
Liam stared into the bathroom mirror, barely recognizing the haggard man staring back at him. Days’ worth of stubble darkened his jaw, highlighting the hollow shadows beneath his bloodshot eyes. His hair stuck up in unruly tufts where he’d raked his fingers through it in frustration. The man in the reflection wasn’t the confident hockey star who commanded respect on the ice. This was a broken shell, defeated not by opposing players but by his own fear.
“Enough,” he whispered, the word hanging in the steamy air. “Enough running.”
With steady hands that belied the tremor in his chest, Liam picked up his razor. Each deliberate stroke revealed another patch of skin, another layer of the mask he’d been hiding behind falling away. The methodical ritual grounded him, focusing his chaotic thoughts into a single, crystalline resolve.
I’m getting her back. Whatever it takes.
When he’d shaved the last patch of stubble, Liam splashed cold water on his face, the shock of it cementing his determination. He ran a towel over his smooth jaw, examining his handiwork. Better. Cleaner. Like wiping the slate.
In his walk-in closet, he bypassed his usual uniform of worn jeans and team hoodies, reaching instead for the charcoal suit he reserved for press conferences and formal team events. The crisp white shirt felt foreign against his skin after days in rumpled T-shirts. As he knotted his tie with practiced fingers, Liam caught himself rehearsing what he would say — to the girls, to management, to Sunny.
Words had never been his strong suit. On the ice, he communicated through action — a well-timed check, a perfectly executed pass, the satisfying thwack of puck against net. But this situation required more than physical prowess. It required courage of a different kind.
“You can do this,” he told his reflection as he slipped on the suit jacket. The man looking back at him now stood straighter, eyes clear and determined beneath furrowed brows.
Today, Liam Anderson was done hiding. Today, he would fight for what mattered.
The girls’ playroom was unnaturally quiet when Liam pushed open the door. No squeals of delight, no sisterly squabbles over toys — just the heavy silence that had blanketed the house since Sunny’s departure.
Maddie sat cross-legged on the floor, mechanically flipping through a picture book without seeming to see the pages. Hailey was curled in the window seat, her stuffed rabbit clutched to her chest as she stared listlessly out at the gray morning.
They both looked up at his entrance, their expressions guarded in a way that made Liam’s heart constrict painfully. Children shouldn’t have to armor themselves against their own father.
