Page 75 of Hockey Nanny

“Yes,” I said. “And you’re still part of this house. Of this family. You don’t just disappear because it’s easier.”

He turned fully away from me then, picking up his watch from the dresser, fastening it with care. The ticking sounded loud in the quiet room.

“I’m trying not to hurt you,” he said.

I stared at his back, disbelief curdling into something heavier. “You already are.”

That made him pause. Just a fraction. His hands stilled at his wrist.

“I’m not built for this,” he said finally. “I never was.”

“For what?” I demanded. “For wanting something?”

“For wanting too much,” he said. He turned back to me then, eyes dark, guarded. “You deserve someone who won’t disappoint you.”

The words landed like a door slamming shut.

Something in me cracked.

“I didn’t ask you to decide what I deserve,” I said, my voice breaking despite myself. “I asked you to talk to me. To stop pretending I’m some mistake you need to manage.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“I can’t,” he said. “Not right now.”

The room felt too small. Too full of everything we weren’t saying.

“Then maybe I need to leave,” I said.

The words escaped before I could soften them.

His eyes snapped to mine. “What?”

“I can’t keep living like this,” I said, emotion rushing up, hot and relentless. “Walking on eggshells. Wondering what I did wrong. If this is how it’s going to be, maybe I should resign. Find somewhere else to work. Somewhere I’m not constantly reminded of what I’m not allowed to have.”

Silence swallowed the room.

For a moment, I thought he might argue. Might tell me I was being dramatic. Might reach for me.

Instead, the door behind me creaked.

A small sound followed. Not loud. Not dramatic.

A sniffle.

I turned just as Henry appeared in the doorway, eyes red, lower lip trembling. He took in the room in one sweeping glance, confusion and fear battling it out on his face.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, voice breaking.

My heart dropped straight through the floor.

“Oh, buddy,” I breathed, moving toward him immediately. “No. No, that’s not what I meant.”

He backed up a step, shoulders hunching like he was bracing for impact. “You said you were going to leave. Is it because of me?”

Dawson swore under his breath.

I crouched in front of Henry, reaching for him. He let me pull him into my arms, his small body shaking as he pressed his face into my shoulder.