"I understood why they did." The tears wouldn't stop now.
"I understood why they made the choice they did. They'd spent years trying to have a baby. Years." I dragged a hand across my face. "They wanted that child. Of course they did."
"Kieran, you were a child too."
I looked away. "They weren't bad people, Thane."
"I didn't say they were."
"They loved me." My voice cracked. "They really did."
"I know."
"I wanted them to have everything they'd been hoping for." I swallowed hard. "I was happy for them. I just wanted them to want me too."
"Kier, those two things shouldn't have cancelled each other out."
"But they did."
His expression twisted. "No. They made a choice. That's not the same thing."
For years, I'd carried that truth around inside me. Love wasn't always enough to make somebody stay.
"I spent months waiting for them to change their minds. I kept thinking if I was patient enough, if I was good enough, eventually everything would work out, but it didn't.” I exhaled a slow breath. "When I read those articles this morning, I wasn’t only thinking about hockey."
His forehead furrowed.
"I was thinking that I recognized the feeling that something or someone else is eventually going to matter more."
His expression went still. And finally, I knew he understood. The possibility of the choice. The waiting for the choice. The fear of the choice.
"I know you care about me." The admission hurt because it was true. "I know you're a good man. I know you would never hurt me on purpose."
"Kier—"
"No, let me finish." My voice shook. "I thought Janelle was staying, too. I thought she was forever. I can't spend months believing I'm part of somebody's future and then find out I was wrong."
Thane looked like I'd punched him.
"What destroyed me wasn't that they loved their baby. It was realizing that the future I thought I belonged in wasn't mine anymore." I drew in a shaky breath. "I thought I finally had a place where I mattered. I thought I was staying. Then one day I didn't." My voice broke. "I don't know how to survive being left twice."
TWENTY-EIGHT
THANE
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Kieran stood a few feet away from me, shoulders tense, tears still shining in his eyes. The sight hit harder than any loss I'd taken all season.
It wasn't because he was crying; it was because I finally understood why.
The articles. The comments. The losing streak. None of that had ever been the real problem. Kieran hadn't spent the day worrying about hockey. He'd spent the day reliving what happened when he was twelve years old.
My heart ached for him. Nine years. He'd been carrying this for nine years.
"Kier."
His gaze stayed fixed on the floor.
