“So…” My mom eyes me carefully. “Did she give you an explanation for all this? The lying, moving away, keepingyour sona secret?” she asks, trying to mask her emotions but her frustration surfaces anyways.
“It’s complicated, Mom. She was young, we both were. I had just been drafted and there is still a lot of stuff we need to figure out,” I respond, taking a large gulp of water.
“I’m sorry,” Amy interrupts. “I think it’s really cool you have a son but don’t we all think it’s a little fucked up she hid this from you?” she says while shoveling broccoli into her mouth. And while tact isn’t her strong suit, I know she said what everyone else at the table is thinking.
“Amy, language!” Mom chides but my sister just rolls her eyes in defiance.
“Yeah, it isn’t exactly ideal,” I admit. “But like I said, it’s complicated. We’re trying to work on things and we're going to couple’s therapy together.”
“Well, that’s good right? That’s a good thing,” My mom notes and I nod in agreement. “I just worry about you, Kai. I know how hard it was when you two broke up,” she says softly. And I can see the concern in her eyes, in the pinch of her brow and the hardness of her features. What she's really asking iswill you be okay if things don’t work out this time? Can you recover from that?And I know she’s right to be worried because I am too. About all the what ifs and the what nows, and the multiple balls Kendall and I are both trying to carefully juggle and keep in the air.
“I know, Mom. I think this time will be different.”
God I really fucking hope I’m right. I don’t think I can survive being wrong.
“So, when do we get to meet him, our grandson?” my mom inquires, excitement bleeding into her voice.
“We’re taking things very slow, so not just yet. But hopefully soon.”
“Okay. I can’t wait,” she replies, covering my hand with hers.
“Me either!” Amy chimes in.
My dad remains silent throughout the entire dinner, quietly moving food around his plate but never eating it. Which isn’t out of character for him. He’s quiet and reserved by nature. But his silence is suffocating and the complete lack of a verbal reaction makes me want to scream. As much as my relationship with my father is strained, I still crave his approval. Before we get up from the table, he excuses himself to his office.
Is he angry? Confused? Shocked?
I’m not sure what his fucking deal is but he needs to be on board with this.
“He’ll come around,” my mom says, reading the expression on my face. “He just needs a little time.” But some shred of awareness unfurling in my gut tells me this isn’t about time or patience or waiting for the shock to wear off.
A half hour later, Amy and I are supposed to be doing the dishes together. But like usual, she’s leaning against the kitchen island scrolling through her phone while I do all the work. She wanders into the den and leaves me alone with my thoughts. Which admittedly is dangerous. My mom’s soft voice and my dad’s authoritative one drift out to me from his office. I put down the dish I’m working on and creep closer to the door, trying not to let my heavy footsteps and lumbering frame give me away. I feel like I’m fucking 16 again, eavesdropping on my parents, instead of just entering the room like an adult.
“You don’t think this all seems a little strange, a little bizarre? She disappeared for years and now she returns at the heightof his career with a toddler she claims is his?” my dad asks viciously. His words slice deep and sharp.
“I mean strange, yes. But what are you suggesting exactly…that Akio isn’t his? That this is a ploy by her somehow? I find that highly unlikely,” she replies. And I can picture the skeptical irritated glare she’s giving him, in an attempt to reconcile the romantic she married with the harsh words and utter bullshit he’s spewing. Because of course Akio is mine and there is no way Kendall is using me. I’m certain of that. But if my dad believes that then maybe he’s more cynical than I thought.
“I know you’re probably right. I’m just worried about him. He was so devastated over her. It seems odd is all. I don’t think I’m wrong in wanting to be cautious. In wantinghimto be cautious.”
But his remark doesn’t feel honest or genuine. It seems forced, performative. And what I want to know iswhy the hell is he choosing to put on a performance now? When has he ever given one singular fuck about my happiness or what I want?
My career? He’s heavily invested in that. My stats? Definitely. My net worth? Sure. But the things that make me tick, the things that bring me pleasure outside of hockey—he never gave any indication that he cares about those. I’m not an idiot, I know my father loves me in his own unique fucked up way. Sometimes that looked like pushing me too hard, for too long as a kid. Sometimes that looks like freezing me out when I make a mistake. Cold indifference other times. It feels like love bordering on hate. So I should be grateful for this concern, his protectiveness. But I’m not. I can’t move past my knee jerk reaction to believe the worst in him. I can’t shake the nagging feeling that something is off.
Why does he suddenly care about my relationship or lack thereof with Kendall?He has seen me at my lowest. He has watched me fall apart over her and barely put myself backtogether. He witnessed me turn into a miserable, depressed husk of the person I once was. And he never said one fucking word to me about her or our breakup. I carefully tiptoe to the den, kiss Amy on the head, and grab my keys, heading to the door.
“Tell Mom and Dad I had to go, okay? Love you.”
“Okay. Love you,” she echoes.
I can’t stand outside that door any longer listening to them, knowing every word my father said makes my skin crawl with rage and distrust that I can’t exactly place.
Later when I roll over the situation in my brain, I realize my dad’s initial reaction, unlike my mom’s, wasn’t shock or surprise. It was pure unadulterated terror.
Chapter 55
Kendall
Ididn’twantKai’sparentslearning the truth about Akio, especially his dad. I nearly shit myself when he informed me that he had told them. I was even more worried about Kai learning things I’d kept hidden and buried for so long. But more than anything I’m scared of losing him. Again. And I know resolutely, like a bone deep ache, I can’t keep him and continue to withhold the truth.
