Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

THIERRY

“That’s her?”

Gerry chuckled nervously, shutting the door behind him as he cast a glance toward his mother, who was perched on the corner of her desk, her neatly crossed ankles swaying ever so slightly as she studied him. Her expression, a mix of apprehension and warmth, softened just a touch as she heard the uncertainty in his tone. “You didn’t tell me she was so petite and adorable.”

“You can be a little intimidating when you have the whole ‘I’m the boss’ persona going.

“She looks nice.”

A shy smile crept across Gerry’s face, his heart skipping a beat as he heard his mother say the words out loud. It felt surreal, hearing her speak about Molly like that. He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to love, but Molly had embraced him, all of him, scars and all.

“I love her, too,” he admitted, his voice soft but full of certainty. There was no hesitating this time, no doubt. The words came from somewhere deep inside, a place that knew without question that Molly was the one. H e felt like he needed to convince his mother about his choices when she turned to sit down behind her desk. The minutes ticked by and it felt like forever, but he knew in his gut it was only seconds.

His mother’s expression shifted—more caution, more wariness. She didn’t answer him right away but instead stood up, the creak of her chair echoing in the room. She looked at him with an almost maternal seriousness, her hands resting on her hips as she moved toward him, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

“You’re young,” she said, her voice steady but laced with concern. “Don’t rush into things.” She paused, studying him, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “And stand still so I can look at you.”

“Mom…” Gerry’s voice cracked just a little, as if he hadn’t expected to feel the weight of her scrutiny again. Her eyes bore into him, as they always had. He felt like a child again, under the weight of her gaze, but he wasn’t a child anymore. He was a man who knew what he wanted—and what he wanted was Molly.

“Don’t ‘mom’ me, Gerard,” she interrupted with a sigh, her tone affectionate but firm. She stepped forward, walking around him with a quiet grace, her fingers grazing his shoulders as she circled him. Then, with a practiced flick of her hand, she tugged at his hair, a gesture that was both loving and exasperated. “I thought I told you to get that cut short?”

“I’m an adult,” Gerry said, his voice quiet but unshaken. His fingers curled into his palms, but he held his ground. “It’s hiding a nasty scar, remember? Besides, the fans love my long hair. They call me ‘Thor’ on the ice. It’s pretty flattering, actually.” He met her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction, but he could see the familiar glint in her gaze—the one that told him she wasn’t giving in just yet.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, exasperation in her voice, though it was laced with fondness. She patted his cheek gently as if the small act could reassure both of them. “You look wonderful,” she said, her voice softening.

Gerry felt a warmth spread through him at her words, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her approval, how much he craved her acceptance. His smile widened, and he found himself stepping closer to her, his hand reaching out to grasp hers.

“I’m really and truly happy,” he confessed, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability he rarely showed. It wasn’t just the smile on his face—it was the certainty in his heart, the way everything felt right when he was with Molly.

His mother met his eyes, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, she sighed, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “It shows,” she replied easily, her voice filled with both relief and a little sadness. “I’m hoping you are happy in your life and not putting all your happiness in that girl. People always tend to let you down and…”

She trailed off, her words laced with a quiet bitterness that Gerry had heard many times before. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him—she did. It was just that, sometimes, she couldn’t help but be cautious, wary of the way life could surprise them both.

“Mom,” Gerry said softly, pulling her hands away from his face where she had begun smoothing back his hair again as though trying to protect him from the weight of his choices. He held her hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle, a silent promise in the way his fingers wrapped around hers. “Mom, I’m an adult. I’m grown up. I’m not getting my hair cut, and I’m going to do what makes me happy, and…” He paused, searching her eyes for understanding, hoping she could see the truth in his words. “You should know t hat Molly makes me happy. She’s everything I need, everything I want. And I want you both to get along. She’s the woman I am choosing for my partner in this life, and I know, if you give her half a chance, you’ll love her.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the silence thick with unspoken emotions. Then, finally, his mother let out a soft sigh, a resigned acceptance in her gaze. “We’ll see,” she murmured, but the hardness had softened, and that was enough for Gerry. He knew it would take time, but he was willing to give it.

His mother would have to welcome Molly into her life – whether she liked it or not. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where he'd have to choose between the two of them, but if it came to that, he knew where his heart would lie. It would shatter him to be torn between the woman who gave him life and the one who gave his life meaning.

Molly wasn’t just someone he loved; she was the heartbeat of his world, the constant warmth that kept the cold at bay. She was his light, the radiance that pierced through the darkest moments. She was his joy, the laughter he could count on in the loneliest days. She was his happiness, the reason he smiled even when life tried to drag him down. And most importantly, she was his rock, the unwavering strength he leaned on when everything else felt fragile.

He meant it when he told her they would decide on Calgary together. It wasn’t a negotiation; it was a promise. He wasn’t willing to make that decision without her by his side. If she wasn’t interested in that life, if she wasn’t ready to make that leap, then he wouldn’t go either. He would turn down every opportunity, every temptation, because no amount of money, no career advancement, nothing in the world would pull him away from the woman he loved. Not if it meant losing her. He would follow her wherever she wanted to go because his heart belonged to her – and nothing, not even the brightest future, would ever change that.

D inner was a thing of beauty, a lavish spread that looked like it belonged on the cover of one of those high-end lifestyle magazines. His mother, ever the perfectionist, spared no expense in creating a meal that could only be described as decadent. The table was set with immaculate precision: delicate china gleamed under the soft glow of the crystal chandelier, and a centerpiece of fresh flowers emerged from a bed of rich greenery, their petals bursting in vibrant colors that seemed to defy the quiet elegance of the room.

Aldonard sat beside Molly, who, despite the opulence surrounding them, seemed almost... fragile. There was tension in her posture, her shoulders were stiff, her movements too deliberate. She looked beautiful, of course, but there was something about her that felt distant, like a part of her was holding herself back from the moment. And it broke his heart just a little. He could see she was trying. She really was. But the nerves still had a firm grip on her.

When he’d packed for their weekend getaway, he’d chosen each item of clothing with care. He’d picked a gown for her—one that would make her feel elegant and cherished—and a pair of comfy sweats in case the temperature dipped. He also tucked a cozy sweater into the bag, along with a pair of jeans, knowing how much she liked to feel at ease. The intent behind each piece was to make her feel special, to show her that he thought of her. He’d even asked his mother to make sure the bathroom was stocked with all the little luxuries Molly loved, anticipating a weekend of relaxation and connection. But none of that seemed to have worked. She looked anything but at ease. She looked stressed.

And her st ress?

It was contagious.

Molly’s tension was like an invisible thread that tethered itself to him, pulling him into the same nervous energy. He tried his best to keep the mood light, to keep her engaged, asking her questions, teasing her, hoping to make her laugh. But nothing seemed to break through. Each attempt felt more futile than the last, and it gnawed at him. He could see how hard she was trying to hold it together, but the cracks were showing, and it made him feel powerless.

“Molly,” Gerry said softly, his smile warm yet tinged with effort, hoping to lift the invisible weight pressing down on the table. “Why don’t you tell Mom about the day you surprised me with the ‘Frownies’?” He chuckled, the sound was genuine but a touch nervous as if laughter could dissolve the tension thickening the air. His gaze flickered between Sandy and his mother, searching their faces for any hint of ease before landing on Molly.

Her expression, however, was like a storm cloud waiting to break—pinched, distant, and unreadable.

“You hated those,” Molly muttered, her voice a fragile thread barely audible over the clink of silverware. Her fingers curled into her lap, twisting the hem of her sweater as if trying to anchor herself. “Are you trying to make me look bad?”

The room seemed to hold its breath.

Gerry’s chuckle faltered, his smile slipping into something strained, almost apologetic. “Oh…” The single syllable carried the weight of his regret. His heart sank like a stone in water, heavy with the realization that he’d misstepped.

Molly shifted in her chair, her shoulders curling inward as though bracing against unseen scrutiny. The discomfort she radiated was palpable, seeping into every corner of the room. Gerry felt helpless, desperate to mend the moment, to erase the awkwardness that now loomed b etween them like a wall.

“Molly,” he tried again, his voice gentler now, almost pleading. He reached across the table, his hand brushing hers in a small, reassuring gesture. Her fingers were cold to the touch, stiff with tension. “It’s okay,” he murmured, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

But before she could respond, Aldonard, ever the inquisitive mother, leaned forward, her smile too tight to feel comforting. “Do you have any brothers or sisters? What are your goals in life? Do you see yourself getting married someday? Having kids? Where do you see yourself in five years?” The questions tumbled out in rapid succession, her gaze sharp and expectant.

Molly froze. Her wide eyes darted from Aldonard to Sandy and back to Gerry, her vulnerability laid bare in the flickering uncertainty on her face. It was as if she’d been thrust under a spotlight, every insecurity she carried now on glaring display.

Sandy, sensing the growing unease, softened her tone. “Molly?” she coaxed gently. “Honey, it’s just conversation.”

But Molly’s gaze locked onto Gerry’s, her eyes pleading silently for him to intervene. He could see the hesitation in her trembling lips, the struggle in her furrowed brow. She looked lost—adrift in a sea of expectations she hadn’t anticipated and wasn’t prepared to navigate.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered, leaning toward her, his voice low and urgent. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

For a brief moment, she clung to his reassurance, her fingers tightening around his like a lifeline. Then, with a shaky breath, she spoke, her words trembling yet determined. “I thought we’d talk first about Calgary,” she said, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

The table fell into stunned silence.

“Calgary ?” Aldonard’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade, her sharp gaze snapping to Gerry. “Marriage? Children? What is going on?”

Sandy looked equally alarmed, her brows shooting upward. “Molly, what’s in Calgary?”

Gerry’s stomach twisted painfully. He hadn’t wanted to go here—not now, not like this. His hands tightened into fists under the table as he forced himself to stay calm. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice a careful thread of control. “We are going to talk about Calgary. I promise. But this is just small talk, okay? It’s my mother trying to get to know you. It’s not serious. Just... small talk.” He met her eyes, silently willing her to trust him. “Okay?”

But the silence at the table wasn’t just heavy; it was suffocating. He could feel the judgment hanging in the air, the unspoken questions and conclusions brewing behind their eyes.

“Molly, what’s in Calgary?” Sandy echoed, her confusion laced with a rising edge of alarm.

Gerry hesitated, his pulse roaring in his ears. His throat felt dry as he searched for the right words, knowing he was on the precipice of an unraveling he couldn’t control. “Yes,” he finally said, his voice strained, “but I suppose we can share that secret with everyone else since it’s out in the open.”

The clatter of Aldonard’s fork against her plate was deafening. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared between them. “Oh my gosh…” she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. “Is that why you came?”

Sandy’s voice rose, a mixture of shock and incredulity. “You’re… with child?” The words hung in the air, their weight pressing down on all of them as the room seemed to tilt on its axis.

Gerry’s gaze shot to Molly, her cheeks flushing crimson as she stared at the table, her lips tremblin g with words she couldn’t bring herself to say.

And just like that, the careful threads of control he’d tried to weave slipped through his fingers, leaving him staring at the pieces of a moment shattered beyond repair. Gerry and Molly stared at each other, both unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

Their mouths opened in perfect unison.

“WHAT?” they exclaimed, their voices colliding in a symphony of disbelief, their faces painted with vivid confusion. Eyes wide, breaths held, they turned to look at each other as if searching for reassurance, expecting the other to either confirm or deny what had just been said. Neither found the answers they sought.

Molly was the first to speak, her voice sharp with incredulity, her cheeks blazing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “No, I’m not with child,” she said firmly, her words hanging in the charged air like an accusation.

“Mom, I respect her too much to…” Gerry began, his voice faltering, words tripping over themselves as he struggled to clear the growing misunderstanding. His hands clenched and unclenched, an unconscious plea for the moment to rewind.

“And I respect myself too much to just… fling myself into someone’s bed!” Molly interjected, her voice rising slightly, her tone edged with both anger and humiliation. Her flushed face mirrored her frustration, her expression daring anyone to challenge her integrity.

“We’re not?—”

“I’m not?—”

“Nobody is pregnant!” they blurted out in unison, the words practically hurled across the room as if to obliterate the absurdity of the accusation. Their voices echoed in the stunned silence that followed, the tension between them a palpable force.

Molly straightened in her chair, hands gripping the edge of the table. “I’m not pregnant,” she repeated firmly, her eyes flicking between the two mothers who sat frozen in shock. “We’ve never even slept together.”

“I’m not going to Calgary unless it’s someplace Molly wants us to set up a household together—as my wife,” Gerry added, his voice low but determined, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, chaos.

“You’re engaged?”

“Wait… you two are moving to Calgary and getting married?” The questions came rapid-fire, layering over each other, their voices a crescendo of astonishment and excitement.

Gerry could barely hear over the roaring in his ears. His heart pounded like a war drum, drowning out the clamor around him as his gaze fixed on Molly. She stared at him as if he’d grown a second head, her mouth slightly agape, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

His secret. His deepest, most private wish had just been catapulted into the open, laid bare for all to see. And he hadn’t even had a chance to talk to her yet, let alone propose. He felt the room closing in, the walls pressing against him, his thoughts spiraling in every direction.

Molly’s stunned gaze didn’t waver, and in that instant, something inside Gerry snapped. Without a word, he shot up from his chair, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. Before anyone could react, he reached for Molly, scooping her up like she weighed nothing, her startled gasp cutting through the din.

“Gerry!” she protested, her hands gripping his shoulders in alarm as he lifted her effortlessly, ho lding her against his side like a child.

He didn’t stop. He stormed out of the dining room, his strides purposeful, his jaw set. “We’re going to talk,” he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument.

Behind them, the room erupted into a flurry of shocked whispers, but Gerry didn’t care. All that mattered was Molly and the conversation they needed to have—away from prying eyes, intrusive questions, and the chaos that had just upended their world.

Gerry gently guided Molly through the arched doorway leading into the solarium, a tranquil space bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the tall, glass-paned walls. The faint scent of blooming flowers filled the air, mingling with the crisp night breeze seeping through the slightly open windows. This place was meant to be a haven, a private retreat where he could whisk her away from the bustle of life to indulge in whispered promises and shared dreams under the stars.

But tonight wasn’t about romance. Not this time.

Anything but this.

“ Pregnant ?!” Molly heaved dramatically, flinging her hands up into the air. “Your mother thinks I’m pregnant? Where would she get that thought? Huh?”

Her wide, stormy eyes darted around the room, searching for answers in the sprawling greenery or the heavens beyond.

Gerry stood rooted in place, his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching her with a mixture of guilt and amusement. “What’s so wrong with having my kid one day?” he asked softly, a teasing lilt in his voice. He couldn’t help himself—it was hard to resist when she got so riled up, so alive. “I love you, Molly. And kids are a normal result of that kind of love.”

Her gaze whipped back to him, incredulous. “Besides the fact that it would come out of my body the size of a toddler?!” she demanded, her voice climbing an octave.

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth despite the tension between them. “I’d love to have a child with your beautiful eyes,” he murmured, his tone growing tender. “And dark hair, just like you…”

“Gerry!” she interjected, her voice cracking under the weight of emotion. She pressed her hands to her temples as if trying to physically push her swirling thoughts into order. “We need to talk about Calgary!”

Her words were sharp and desperate, slicing through the fragrant air. Gerry’s stomach tightened as the mood shifted again.

“I don’t want to go to Calgary because I don’t know anyone there,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “And… I’m scared.”

The admission hit him harder than he expected, but he masked his guilt with a brusque tone. “Then we won’t go,” he snapped, the words coming out harsher than intended.

For a moment, silence enveloped them. They stood staring at each other, their gazes locked, both their chests heaving from the unspoken tension that filled the room. Slowly, the fight drained out of them, leaving behind only weary vulnerability.

“If you don’t want to go,” Gerry said, his voice softer now, “all you had to do was say so.”

Molly’s expression faltered, her eyes glistening as she looked down at her hands. “I like being a part of the Coyotes team,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching in a bittersweet smile.

“Then why even consider it?”

“Because of the money,” he admitted, a shadow passing over his face, “and… you.”

The weight of those final words hung heavy in the air, unspoken questions and emotions simmering beneath the surface. Gerry reached for her hand, gently intertwining their fingers, silently hoping that the connection between them would be enough to steady her trembling resolve.

“Me?” Molly whispered, looking at him as he held her hand and slowly knelt before her. Her eyes widened slightly as he stared up into her beloved gaze, speechless.

Gerry took Molly’s hands in his, his thumbs brushing softly over her knuckles as he looked into her eyes with a vulnerability she’d rarely seen before. His voice trembled slightly, heavy with sincerity and raw emotion.

“Molly, I love you more than you will ever know or imagine – and can’t picture living this life without you by my side.” He paused, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his confession. “You bring me joy and hope and make me feel like I could move mountains… and that is what matters.” His voice softened, as though each word was being pulled directly from his heart. “I don’t care about Calgary unless it’s something that you want. If something ever happened, I could find a place on another team – but those guys are my family, you know? I want to see my friend Batiste marry his girl, to celebrate their happiness, just like I would prefer those we care about to share in ours.”

Molly blinked back the tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh, Gerry…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Gerry’s grip tightened ever so slightly, as if anchoring himself to her in that moment. His breath hitched, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to find the courage to continue.

“I’m not the greatest guy,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “Not some hotshot fancy hockey player. I don’t go out and party, I’m probably too dumb to stand up for myself sometimes, but if you want someone to love you, to cherish every smile casually tossed in his direction…” He paused, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting hers again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And someone who would lay down their life to make you happy… well, I’m your guy.”

The raw emotion in his voice cut through her like a blade, sharp and undeniable, making her throat tighten and her chest ache. Gerry’s lips trembled as he continued, his voice now barely above a whisper, thick with feeling and edged with vulnerability. “Molly, I want to marry you and spend the next fifty years making you smile as much as you have made me, sweetheart.”

The words hung in the air like a delicate melody, wrapping around her heart. She just stood there, rooted in place, her mind spinning in a chaotic swirl of fear, disbelief, excitement, and joy. Her breath hitched as she tried to process what he’d just said. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined meeting someone like him—someone who didn’t just tolerate her quirks but seemed to treasure them. She’d always known she could be bossy, even infuriating at times, with her relentless need to plan and organize, her fixation on the little details of life. Yet here he was, looking at her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

To have someone as sweet, tender, and utterly wonderful as Gerry love her? It felt like a miracle she didn’t deserve. And because of that, she was terrified. Terrified that one day, the pedestal he’d put her on would crumble. Terrified that she’d somehow fail him, that the cracks in her would eventually drive him away.

“Say something…” he urged softly, his dark eyes searching hers with a nervous smile that didn’t quite reach his lips. “You’re scaring me, Molly.”

His quiet plea snapped her from her spiraling thoughts, and she blinked rapidly, realizing how long she’d left him hanging. Her pulse thundered in her ears a s she opened her mouth, then closed it again, words tumbling over each other in a rush.

“What if I let you down?” she stammered, her voice trembling as she stared into his earnest gaze. “I mean, what if you change your mind? What if you want to trade to another team because you get tired of my nagging? Or my constant attempts to make us eat healthy? What if…” She laughed nervously, shaking her head. “What if I come up with something even worse than ‘frownies’?”

A crooked smile softened the tension in his expression. “I don’t think there is anything worse—and why would you even want to do that?”

Her shoulders sagged as the floodgates opened, emotion pouring out in waves. “Because I never want you to leave my side,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears brimmed in her eyes, spilling over as she took a shaky step toward him. “I don’t think a lifetime would ever be long enough to love you the way I want to, and the thought of being without you? Gerry, it hurts just to imagine it. I want you with me until the end of eternity—if you can put up with me.”

He chuckled, the sound thick with his own emotion, and his mock frown was so endearing it made her heart squeeze. “I think I can handle that. And what did I tell you about making decisions for me?”

“That I’m gonna do it repeatedly as your wife?” she shot back, a hint of a smile breaking through her tears.

“Fair enough,” he said with a grin that lit up his whole face. Rising to his feet, he reached for the small chain hidden beneath his shirt, tugging it free with a flourish. A delicate box dangled from the chain, and he winked at her. “Figured my surprise would be ruined if you found this early.”

Her jaw dropped, her hand flying to her mouth as laughter bubbled up through her tears. “I’ll ad mit—I was looking for it.”

“How’d I know,” he laughed glibly, sliding the ring onto her finger a moment later as he met her eyes. “Marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh man,” he breathed, his voice trembling with a mix of overwhelming emotion and nervous energy as he pulled her into his arms. His hold was firm yet tender, his heart pounding so loudly she could feel it through his chest. Leaning down, he tilted his head to press his lips to hers, his breath brushing her skin and igniting a spark that made her heart race.

Just as their lips were about to meet, the unmistakable pop of a cork echoed through the air. The sound startled them both, breaking the spell as they flinched in unison, their near-kiss interrupted. They froze for a moment, wide-eyed, staring at each other in disbelief. The corners of his mouth twitched, caught between amusement and exasperation, before their gazes instinctively swung toward the source of the sound.

Standing in the doorway were their mothers, side by side like an unexpected yet perfectly timed comedic duo. Both women were grinning, and next to them stood the butler, Peter, holding a freshly opened bottle of champagne. The room suddenly felt alive with an energy that was both chaotic and oddly heartwarming.

“Welcome to the family, sweetheart,” his mother said, her voice warm and tinged with emotion. The look she gave them was a surprising contrast to the composed, almost aloof demeanor she’d shown earlier. Her eyes shone with a rare openness, a glimmer of approval that caught Molly off guard. For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice, overwhelmed by the unexpected acceptance.

Before Molly could respond, his mother clapped her hands together with a burst of enthusiasm. “How about we ditch this stuffy scenery and head into th e basement where the game room is? Sandy,” she turned to Molly’s mother, her tone light and teasing, “you want to play table hockey with me? I despise playing with Gerry because he starts quoting rules and regulations every two minutes…”

“Because you cheat , Mom,” Gerry interrupted with a laugh, his hand sliding protectively to Molly’s waist as he pulled her closer. His grin was boyish and affectionate, his laugh rich with the kind of joy Molly hadn’t seen in him in a long time.

“I don’t cheat,” his mother retorted, eyes narrowing in playful defiance. “It’s called strategic improvisation .”

“You broke the rules,” he countered, shaking his head.

“Subtly sidestepped them,” she corrected, lifting her chin with mock pride as Peter, ever the picture of composure, raised an eyebrow. The subtle quirk of his expression, coupled with a soft, almost imperceptible noise of disapproval, sent them all into peals of laughter.

Molly found herself laughing along with them, the tension in her shoulders melting away. She leaned into Gerry, feeling the strength and warmth of his embrace, and for the first time that evening, she realized something she hadn’t dared to hope for: she was home. Not just in a place but with people who were messy, complicated, and beautifully imperfect—just like her.