"And now?" I ask before I can stop myself.
Jamie's expression softens.
"Now he looks like he's breathing again."
I look away.
Because that’s too much.
Too close to something tender.
Too close to something I am not ready to name.
On the ice, Jillie laughs.
Colby looks over at the sound and smiles. Not for cameras. Not for the team.
For her.
Then his eyes find mine through the glass. For me.
My heart forgets how to behave.
Jamie watches the exchange. Then, still in that quiet captain’s voice, he asks, "How serious is this?"
I freeze.
The answer should be simple.
It isn't real.
It is temporary.
It started because of a photograph.
It started because the internet decided a sad little girl on a hockey player's shoulders looked like a secret family.
It started because my daughter cried in front of cameras.
It started for all the wrong reasons.
Before I can decide which lie sounds safest, Jamie looks back toward the ice.
Colby is helping Jillie balance in the oversized helmet while Toby pretends to announce her debut like she is entering a championship game. Liam is filming on someone's phone. Jillie is laughing so hard she can barely stand.
Colby laughs too.
Openly.
Easily.
Like a man who forgot anyone might be watching.
Jamie nods once, as if answering his own question.
"Because he looks pretty serious to me."
Then he walks away.
