Chapter 17

The one personI didn't expect at the breakfast table was Dad, but there he was, in all his glory, perched on a stool, Mom sitting opposite.

"Morning, Shaun" he said, his hands laced on the counter, an unfinished mug of coffee to one side.

"Dad," I acknowledged, then chose a stool next to Mom, my elbow touching hers. I couldn"t help but notice the weary look on my dad"s face; his eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles beneath them. "What are you doing here?"

He hesitated for a moment, but it was clear he had something important to say, and my stomach twisted with apprehension.

"What is he even doing here?" I asked Mom instead.

She reached for my hand and squeezed it. "He wants to talk," she said.

I faced Dad. He winced at whatever he saw in my expression, and I braced myself for whatever was about to come.

"Shaun," he began, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I"ve… been doing a lot of thinking since I left," he said, his gaze fixed on the table.

"Since Mom kicked you out, you mean."

His eyes brightened. "I love your mom."

"Funny way of showing it," I groused, and Mom squeezed my hand again.

Dad cleared his throat. "I messed things up. Not just with you, but with your mom too. Too much anger, too much…" He scrubbed his eyes. "All I could see were the things I'd lost, instead of what I had. I love you both so much, and the pressure in my head overshadowed everything. I'm sorry. I've been stupid."

I listened in stunned silence as my dad opened up about his own insecurities and failures. He spoke of the pressure he"d put on me to succeed, his own dreams of making it to the NHL. He admitted to being pushy, even bullying at times, and how he"d driven a wedge between us with his anger and aggression.

"When your mom told me to leave, she insisted I go to therapy," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, then he let out a soft laugh. "‘For anger management', she said to me. Only that just made me angry, for God's sake. I told myself I didn't need therapy, that I needed to get back some of the pride I'd lost and that you were the stop on that journey. But I went, and I was ready to argue my way out of a paper bag, only that was the point wasn't it. I was lost in it, and I'm not saying I'm fixed, or that I'm moving home. It"s just one step, but I"m trying, Shaun. I want to do better. For you, for your mom, for our family."

I felt a lump form in my throat as I listened to my dad"s heartfelt apology. It was clear he was showing remorse for the pain he"d caused, and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to feel a glimmer of hope that maybe he could just be my dad?

"Mom?" I asked.

She leaned her shoulder against mine. "Go on, Ed," she encouraged Dad.

"I want to apologize to you, Shaun," Dad said, meeting my gaze head-on. "For everything. I know I"ve let you down, but I want to make things right. And I understand if you don"t forgive me, but I"m willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll support you whatever you want to do—NHL, college, or even not playing at all. It was my dream to lift the cup, get the money, the plaudits, not yours, and I pushed you too much."

I could see the sincerity in his eyes, and despite everything, a part of me wanted to believe he meant what he said. I knew it wouldn"t be easy to rebuild our relationship, but perhaps it was worth a shot.

"Thank you, Dad," I said, feeling some of the weight of resentment and hurt lift from my shoulders. "I appreciate you saying that, and I'm trying to see that you mean it. One thing though; I'm bisexual, do you understand that? If I ever have any kind of career, in hockey or not, that is who I will be forever, and I won't hide it. It's never going to change. I have a boyfriend, Kenji…"

"I know."

"And?"

"I know I'm wrong. I love you. All of you, all the little bits, the hockey, the history nerd bits, the jokes we used to tell each other, the way you trusted me when I taught you how to ride a bike. Please, Shaun, tell me I haven't completely fucked up?"

"And you won't quit the group, and you won't make Mom cry?" Or me.

"I will never stop going to group. I will try my hardest to never make your mom cry again, and one day… maybe we'll be together again?" He was talking to my mom, but he had a long road to prove he was a good man, and I would defend my mom to my dying breath. Hashtag dramatic.

"If Mom is willing to give you a chance, then I am too."

A flicker of relief crossed my dad"s face, and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for us yet. When he left, it was after we'd hugged, and after he'd held my mom's hand and thanked her over and over.

"You think he's changed? Just like that?" I asked her as we watched him leave.

She sighed. "Not yet, but maybe, one day he will. He's still the man I love, still your dad. So, I want to try. Do you?"

I pulled her close and hugged her.

"Yeah."

I leanedback against the wall outside the biology lab waiting for Kenji so I could tell him about the talk with Dad, and then, walk him to lunch and, yes, that was me, wanting a glimpse of my boyfriend and maybe to steal a kiss.

"What are you doing out here?" Kenji asked as he and Tyler exited the classroom.

I tugged him to me and kissed him, then hugged him.

"Missed you," I murmured, and he snuggled into me, and I never wanted to move.

"Laters," Tyler smirked and ducked around him into the crowd of students heading to the cafeteria. We'd stopped going there for food, making our own picnic anywhere we could find space, where it was okay for Kenji to relax, then try his hardest to eat. He never minded that I wolfed down the equivalent of two people's food, and today would be no different. We found a space under the back stairs, laying out my coat and sitting cross-legged next to each other as I polished off my lunch, and he picked at some grapes.

"Dad was at our house this morning."

Kenji shot me a glance. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, yeah, he's going to a group, anger management or something."

"He's not a bad guy," Kenji said.

I snorted a laugh. "If you'd heard some of the things he said about you?—"

"I did. I heard a lot, but you know, he was scared you'd end up like him, and I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean that he's so poisoned with disappointment, and he was angry all the time, for himself and for you maybe ending up as disappointed as he was. God, does that make any sense?"

"Strangely, it does."

"And he's not naturally evil like Ilya."

I shuddered at that thought. He'd gone back to wherever he was from, but he wouldn't be coaching in the US, or indeed, a whole slew of countries, any time soon.

"We need to go on a date," I blurted. "A real one, just me and you."

"Not the noodle place," Kenji said, then dipped his head, focusing on the last remaining grape in the bowl.

"No, better than that," I decided and went through my list of places to eat where I could take Kenji. In fact, my mind raced so hard with ideas for our date, I never realized how quiet he was.

"Can we not just do this?" he asked after a while. "I like it here, just you and me, with no one watching.

"Of course, but… I want to romance you."

He leaned against my shoulder, and I wrapped an arm around him. "This is romance for me. Just us." He repeated that last bit, and something in his words pierced my stupid heart. Kenji had been through so much, and I wanted a date that would show the world how much I liked him, wanted to make sure things were perfect for him, but every date idea I had revolved around food in some way, and what Kenji was saying was that he just wanted it to be us, but also saying no eating in public.

Movies? No, popcorn and candy are staples, and I didn"t want to trigger any discomfort for Kenji. Dinner out? Definitely not, too much focus on food, and I knew how stressful that could be for him. Maybe a picnic? No, that was even worse, with all the snacks and sandwiches.

I sighed in frustration. Kenji deserved a great date, something that showed him how much I cared and supported him in his recovery journey.

"Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" Kenji asked.

"God no, I was just… it's a pop quiz thing," I lied, and thankfully, he didn't push me for any more. What kind of date could I do that didn't mean we'd be putting eating at the middle of things?

Then, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Our shared love of history? Maybe we could spend the day exploring a museum or visiting a historical site. That way, we could focus on learning and experiencing something new together, without any pressure around food. Perfect!

A smile spread across my face as I envisioned us walking hand in hand through the exhibits, sharing interesting facts and stories with each other. It wasn't about the food; it was about the connection we shared and the memories we"d create together.

"And now you're grinning like an idiot."

"We're going into Harrisburg on Saturday. I'll pick you up at eight. We're not eating anywhere, food isn't an issue, but wear sneakers and a smile. And clothes of course."

He closed the lid on the empty grape container. "Shaun?"

"Yep?" I was lost in planning the perfect historical day, the Civil War Museum was first on my list, and maybe, when we were out there, we could talk about what was next for both of us. Leo's suggestions about possible futures were still playing on my mind. Did I want what Dad wanted for me? What he'd sacrificed so much for me to do? Or did I follow the college path? Did I want to leave Mom now? Or Kenji? Or did I want to stay and be a normal kid for once? Would I miss hockey more than anything if I didn't push to get out there?

"Is it too soon to think maybe, possibly, I could be going past best friends again and straight on to love?"

My brain froze. What? I never expected it to be him to say it first! I've wanted to tell him that for so long but didn't want to push. He took my hesitation as an answer, tugged himself away, forcing the grape box into his backpack.

"It's okay," he said, in a small voice. "Maybe, one day, if I'm fixed, I can?—"

I grasped his arm and tugged him onto my lap, so he was straddling me, and then, cradled his face.

"You don't need fixing. It's you, me, us. Always," I said, my words tripping over themselves. "And I don't think I love you; I know I do."

He ducked his head, a flush of scarlet on his cheeks, as he stared into my eyes. "That's good," he said.

"So good."

* * *

As Kenjiand I walked through the National Civil War Museum, I couldn"t help but feel a sense of awe at the history surrounding us, and I knew Kenji felt the same way. The exhibits were filled with artifacts and information about one of the most pivotal periods in American history.

Kenji, ever the history buff, was practically bouncing with excitement as we discussed various artifacts and shared interesting facts about the Civil War. His passion for history matched mine, but the way he talked about things was contagious, and I found myself hanging onto his every word as we wandered through the museum, hand in hand.

"I can't believe the Battle of Gettysburg lasted for only three days?!" Kenji asked, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "It was the turning point of the war, and it seems like it should have lasted forever."

We paused in front of a display of Civil War-era weapons, and Kenji launched into an animated explanation of their uses and significance, which was an area of history I didn't know much about. I listened intently, soaking up every detail and feeling grateful to be sharing this experience with him, and all the time that I was listening, I was falling more in love.

As we moved through the museum, stealing kisses whenever we thought no one could see us, I couldn"t shake the feeling of contentment that washed over me. Being with Kenji felt right, like we were meant to be together, and every smile he threw my way was this gift I wanted to hold close.

Eventually, we made our way back to the entrance, both exhausted, but happy. Before heading home, we decided to take a detour to a nearby overlook to enjoy the view of the city lights below. Or rather, I decided, because I didn't want the day to end.

Sitting in my car, the warmth of Kenji"s hand in mine, I couldn"t resist pulling him closer for a kiss. Our lips met in a sweet, lingering touch, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away, and then, one kiss turned to two, which became more.

I could kiss Kenji forever.

Each time we parted, breathless and smiling, it was to share a secret in the dark. Kenji's fear of what he'd done, and how he was going to be, and what his future could be; me with my fears of my own future and all the decisions I had to make.

He glanced up at me with a glint of excitement in his eyes. "I"ve actually been thinking," he said. "I don't want figure skating anymore, not where I let it hurt me."

"I get that."

"I want to go to college to study history. My sobo has money put aside, and I know I won't have the scholarship chances, but it could be enough if I get a job and stay close so I can live at home."

I felt a surge of pride and admiration for him. "That"s amazing, Kenji," I said, squeezing his hand.

"What about you?"

Me? I had no idea.

No wait, I did have an idea, or at least a vague hope.

"I'm not going in for the draft. I want to go to college, and if the NHL happens, it happens."

Wow—I hadn't said that out loud to anyone. As soon as the words left my mouth, I began to spin impossible dreams. What if we went to the same college? What if we could get a place together—me on a scholarship studying history, him being with me—sharing classes, sharing a life. Probably impossible, and I was sure there would be a ton of rules about where a student lived in the first year, but…

"What if I tried for a scholarship to Penn State? It's a D1 college, and I'm sure it has an amazing history program."

"I know it does," Kenji murmured. "It's on my list."

My heart leaped. "I could study history, you know I love that, and I can play hockey, and we could end up living together and have this whole life ahead of us."

"It's good to dream," Kenji said, but he didn't sound sad—if anything his voice held excitement at the potential.

"If…" I didn't want to voice the possibilities, and he seemed to get that.

"If is a very powerful word."

"Something to work toward?" I asked with hope.

He leaned over and kissed me. "Definitely."