Page 61 of Ruthless Blade

He gave me a weak smile, “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. There’s other fish in the sea.”

I sometimes wondered if he regretted cheating on Mom. I didn’t think he realized it would be so hard to move on.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said.

I frowned, “About what?”

“Have I ever talked to you about my dad?”

“Kind of, you never really went into detail.”

He let out a slow breath, "You know my dad played football. He was semi-pro until an injury ended his career before it had a chance to begin. He never got over that. Spent the rest of his life convinced he'd have gone pro if things had been different. Because of that, he put all of his efforts into me being a football player, and it still didn’t work out the way he wanted."

"Wow,” I said, not sure exactly how to respond.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "When you were born, I made a decision. It was that whatever sport you had ended up loving, that I was going to make sure you had every opportunity to be successful. Every resource, camp and private coach I could find, we would use them. I threw you into hockey because I loved watching it, and you seemed to love playing it. I wanted you to experience what I never got the chance to. "I know that part, Dad. I know why you did it, even though I didn’t always agree.”

He shook his head, “That’s not everything. Dad pushed me hard, I eventually broke under the pressure. My grades, scholarships, and injuries kept me from moving on. I didn’t want to be overbearing like him, that’s why I wasn’t around for you. I turned into a ghost, completely absent from that part of your life, not wanting to put the pressure on you. I screwed up, and I’m sorry for that. I never thought that you would actually want me around.”

My brows rose. Dad was giving me an apology, and I didn’t know how to take it. Fuck, what do I say to that? I always thought he secretly hated me or something and that’s why he wasn’t present for that stuff. "Why didn't you ever tell me any of this?"

“In my own stupid way, I wanted to protect you, but instead I ended up putting you through more pain than I intended to. Admitting it to you was a way of admitting that I’d failed.”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, “Hell, your Mom and I did such a shit job raising you; we basically pushed you away. Even before the divorce.”

It’s sad that he had to admit that.

I licked my lips, “What exactly does this mean?”

He stood up taller, “It means that I don’t care what life you choose to give yourself as long as it makes you happy. If hockey, really and truly makes you happy, then I will be your number one supporter. If Alexis makes you happy, then I will back you up. I want to be there for you, through all your trials and your successes. If you end up getting married and having kids one day, I want to be able to be a good grandpa to them. I guess what this means is, the draft is coming. And it’s up to you to make the decision if you want to move forward, or start over in something new.”

This was a whole new version of Dad that I’d never seen before. I didn’t know exactly how to react, but I liked the idea of him actually being a father for once, instead of someone who coached me on everything and put me at arms length.

“Thank you,” was all I could manage to get out, but I hoped he knew how much his words and support meant.

"I'm proud of you," he said. "For everything you’ve accomplished so far, and everything you’ll accomplish in the future. Don’t worry about everyone else’s choices and what you can do for them; think about what they can do for you.”

There was a real, genuine smile on his face. “Want to order some pizza and watch football?”

It was a silly and simple request, and even though I was eager to get back to campus, I was more eager at the idea of spending time with him. “That sounds good to me.” I smiled, and he reached for his phone and started the ordering process. I stood up, went to the fridge and grabbed a water, and for the first time in years, I had actually felt at home.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Not once, but a few times which meant someone was calling. I pulled it out and frowned, seeing Dylan’s name flash across the screen.

My finger swiped left, and I placed the phone to my ear. “Hey man...”

I was getting ready to tell him that I would talk to him later, but he cut me off, his voice out of breath like he’d been running.

“We’ve got a problem.”

I frowned, “What?”

“Lexi was beat up, she’s in the hospital.”

My hand clenched around the phone, “Who?”

I couldn’t think of anyone who had issues with her, except for me, and I had my reasons. Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off.

“Ivy and her croonies.”