“It was the first time in my life I’d felt blinding rage, and I didn’t know how to handle it. Like yeah,” her voice cracks a little, “I needed a dad. For the last twenty-seven years of my life.”
Damn.
She sighs heavily, her breath shuddering out of her as she turns down the music, like she needs the silence to focus.
“What did you say to him?” I ask her gently.
“I told him I needed to finish school,” she murmurs. “I only had one semester left of my clinical doctorate program and to be honest, I was struggling with being able to afford it and focus with my mom’s death. And he…” She clears her throat, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror before landing back on the road as she changes lanes. “He offered to pay for the rest of it so I wouldn’t have to take out loans.”
“Okay.” I nod slowly, waiting for the catch.
“But there was a caveat,” she says, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I had to intern with his hockey team and finish my program in New York.”
And there it is. That’s why she was in New York the night we met. She uprooted her entire life because her father gave her an ultimatum. Finish school in New York. Take the internship with the Mayhem. Work for his organization. And knowing Bri, she probably convinced herself it meant something more than that.
She probably hoped this was his way of reaching out. Of finally trying. Of building the relationship she’d spent years wishing she had. Because that’s who Bri is. She sees the good in people even when they haven’t earned it. She gives them the benefit of the doubt. She believes in second chances and happy endings, and all the things most people stop believing in after life disappoints them enough times.
She packed up her life. Left home. Rearranged her degree program. Took a job with his team. And then he barely acknowledged her existence. He gave her hope, and somehow, that bastard managed to let her down all over again.
“I see.”
“When I graduated in May…” Her voice trails off again, quieter now, like she’s ashamed. “I couldn’t find a permanent job. Sports PT is insanely competitive. People are desperate for PTs for kids and the elderly, but athletics is a whole different world. Even with all the rotations I’d done during school—baseball, football, soccer—I still couldn’t lock anything down by the time graduation hit and I desperately needed the money for housing and my mom’s bills.”
My jaw clenches. Her mother’s medical debt. She’s mentioned that before. I wonder how much debt she’s accumulated. It must be a lot if she was willingly to work for the Mayhem and as a nanny for me. “So, he offered you a job to keep you close but won’t talk to you?”
She nods, her lips pressed tight. “Yes. I didn’t really have a choice, and I knew I needed to be grateful. Some new graduates don’t have a rich dad who will hand them a job even if he won’t talk to her.”
“He didn’t hand you the job, Bri. You earned it. From everything I’ve heard, you’re an incredible addition to the medical staff on the Mayhem.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything. “Do you really mean that?”
Fuck, does she not see how much I mean that?
“Without a doubt.”
“I thought he’d bridge the gap eventually. The night of the team dinner at the hotel, Lochlan said he was looking for me but when I left the gym, I couldn’t find him which means he either chickened out or got me confused with someone else. I don’t know.” She sighs. “I can honestly say he’s the only person I’ve ever felt real, deep anger toward.”
She blows out a breath, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel like she’s trying to keep her emotions in check.
“Damn.”
She nods; her gaze fixed on the dark stretch of highway ahead. “It’s weird,” she finally says. “Like, I think he wants me to be close by, but he also doesn’t.”
I want to tell her that maybe he’s struggling with where to start. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say or how to fix things after spending her entire life apart. Maybe he’s afraid she won’t forgive him or want to be in his life, and he’s right. She doesn’t owe him that. She owes him nothing. Because fuck that. He could’ve shown up. He could’ve tried. He didn’t. And that’s on him. He deserves to not know how amazing Bri is. The kind,romantic soul that she is. He doesn’t deserve to be in her presence at all, regardless of whether he’s reconsidered.
The song changes, and a familiar riff echoes through the speakers.
“Avril?” I ask, raising a brow.
Her lips quirk up into a mischievous grin as she cranks the volume. And then she belts out the lyrics like she’s on stage at a sold-out show, her voice loud and carefree, filling the car with her energy as she air-guitars a riff.
Gone is the sad girl from a few moments ago talking about her late mother and her absent father. In its place is a girl who believes in love and laughter solve most wrongs. I feel the tug at the corner of my mouth, a smile creeping in despite myself. It’s like the smile’s been waiting and she’s the only one who can pull it out of me.
Because here she is, driving three and a half hours through the dead of night after working a full shift with my team. Loving my daughter like she’s her own. Sharing openly with me about the hidden parts of her past. Hyped up on energy drinks and sugar, running on fumes, and yet… she’s still smiling, belting out some emo lyrics to a sold-out crowd of one. Anyone else would be bitching. Hell, I want to bitch about the ache in my legs, feet, and back and I’m not even the one driving.
But not Bri. Nope. Not a single complaint has come out of her lips. She’s finding the adventure in all of this and truly enjoying it.
I let her. I let her sing. I let her listen to her music. And she keeps going for a full hour—throughThree Doors Down,The All-American Rejects,Green Day…and I just watch her, smiling like an idiot until I can feel my eyes starting to drift shut.
