34. Braxton

After I was showered and changed, Dakota and I returned to my hotel room, where we stayed up all night talking.

We had months of catching up to do and were both slightly skittish around the other, so jumping right back into our physical relationship would have been a huge mistake. Honestly, I was happy to take it slow. It wouldn't be easy to rebuild the trust between us, but I knew it was worth the effort.

Dakota dozed off sometime before dawn, and I nudged her awake half an hour before checkout. She rolled over, mumbling into her pillow something about five more minutes.

Yeah, I'd definitely missed her.

I brushed my lips against her temple. "Babe, I've gotta go."

Sighing, she turned enough to give me a sleepy pout. "Already? I just got you back."

"I have to go back to Indy with the team. It's gonna take a few days to tie up loose ends from the season ending." I smoothed the hair away from her face.

"Are you coming back up here after that? For the summer? I can stay and wait for you."

Shaking my head, I replied, "Probably not. There's nothing up here for me. I don't want to crash Natalie and Jaxon's summer with the kids, and there's no way I'm walking into whatever shit storm is waiting for me at my parents' after losing last night."

"Where will you go?" Her brows drew down, creating a tiny wrinkle between them.

I shrugged. "Maybe stick around Indy. Maddox, our captain, is recuperating from his ACL tear, and I've been staying at his place since the trade."

"Oh." Dakota sat up, staring down at the sheets. "I see."

Tipping her chin up, I searched her eyes. "I don't want to put too much pressure on our second chance."

She nodded. "I know."

Leaning in, I captured her lips in a soft kiss, the first once since we'd reconciled. When I pulled back, she was finally smiling.

"Doesn't mean we can't visit each other." I gave her thigh a squeeze beneath the sheets.

Dakota chewed on her lower lip. "I'm gonna spend a few days up here."

My eyebrows raised. "You are?"

"Yeah. Natalie invited me to the lake when the Speed lost since they wouldn't be heading to Indy for Game 7."

I winced. The wound was still raw.

"You and Natalie have been talking?" I asked, surprised.

Sheepishly, she smiled. "When I couldn't reach you and found out you'd moved out of Nix's place, I went to her. She's the one who told me you were traded. She's also the one who urged me to sort out my own baggage before coming to you. It was good advice. She's a smart lady, and her kids are lucky to have her as a mom."

"Nat's the best," I agreed.

"She told me to let her know if I needed anything. So, once I took care of some unfinished business, I asked if there was any way I could bum a ride with them to the Finals."

"Wait." I halted her story. "You were there the whole time?"

Her cheeks turned pink. "Yeah, but I didn't want to be a distraction. You needed to focus."

"You are something else," I mused.

"I think if you can, you should come back up here. Just for a few days." She smiled. "Spend some time with the kids. Have you seen Max? He's so big!"

My heart ached thinking of those kids growing up without me. "Yeah, Nat held him up to the glass pre-game last night."

"There's something else I need to tell you."

I tensed, not sure what to expect. "Okay . . ."

"I went to see my dad."

That was the absolute last thing I expected to hear from her mouth. "You did what?!" I ran my hands up and down her arms. "Are you okay?"

Dakota nodded. "Yeah. Better than okay, actually."

"Why?" I didn't understand.

"Natalie was right. I wasn't going to be able to move forward with my life until I confronted my past. I looked that man dead in the eye and told him exactly how I felt about the type of person he was and condemned his mistreatment of my mom and me. And then I walked away without a backward glance. I'm done looking back. Only forward motion from here on out."

I huffed out a disbelieving laugh, cupping her face with both hands. "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you." Black eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks before she trained her eyes on me. "I think you need to sit down and talk to your dad."

Dropping my hold on her face, I stood from the bed. "No." I shook my head for emphasis, repeating, "No."

Scooching to the side of the bed, she reached for my hand. "The expectations placed on you were far too high. No child—no adult—should have to fight so hard to feel worthy in their parents' eyes, let alone on such a public stage."

"You don't know what you're asking of me. I don't have the option to walk away and not look back, like you did."

"I would never ask that of you," she vowed. "But if we want this fresh start, we both need to come into it without any past burdens."

I was reeling, and she could sense it. Standing, she looped her arms around my neck, effectively grounding me. I buried my face in her neck, needing the comfort of her touch, her smell.

"I know it's not easy. Fuck, it's terrifying. But you have no idea how liberating it is. You'll never be free to move on with your life, to be happy, until you have an honest conversation with your father. And it's not so much about fixing what's broken but more about laying out how he made you feel. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner."

"He's not an easy man to talk to." I sighed.

"It doesn't have to be a conversation. You can make it clear at the start that you wish to be the only one talking. This is about your healing, not his. And if you want, I'll be right by your side."

Stunned, I pulled back to peek at her. "Really? You would do that for me?"

"Of course." A smile curved on her lips, and she toyed with the hair at the nape of my neck.

"I love you." The words slipped out. I knew we were moving slowly, but that didn't change my feelings for her.

Blinking furiously, Dakota's eyes grew glassy. "I love you too. I never thought I'd hear you say those words again."

"Me neither," I confessed. "But they never stopped being true. Even when we were apart, I couldn't shut off my feelings. It was painful as hell, but I couldn't stop loving you."

"I'm never going to mess this up again. I promise," she whispered, voice thick.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." I nuzzled my nose against hers.

"No." She shook her head. "Prepare yourself for a lifetime of grand gestures because I'm never letting you go, no matter what."

"Hey." I smiled. "That's my line."

"It's our line now."

Then she pulled me down for a kiss, and we had to make a call down to the front desk to beg for a late check-out.

Returning to Minnesota after exit interviews and locker cleanout in Indy, I had the chance to sit down and talk to Jaxon. If we were really going for a fresh start, it wasn't only my dad that I needed to share my feelings with.

As expected, Jaxon felt terrible about being the root cause of my pain. It also provided a bonding opportunity for us, as he shared that Dad had been harsh on him growing up as well. I'd missed most of that because he was out of the house so young. Jaxon explained it was different for him. He wasn't held to an unreasonable expectation. Instead, he was expected to be the standard, not just on the ice but off it. He wasn't allowed to make mistakes.

He told me how Dad completely lost it on him when he found out Jaxon had gotten Natalie pregnant, dictating how he was going to handle that situation. Not before telling him that he'd made a colossal mistake and should have known better than to knock up some random woman who was going to take him for all he was worth.

We both knew how very wrong that assumption had been. Natalie was wealthy on her own and spent the better part of her pregnancy with Charlie, pushing Jaxon away. She wasn't looking to hook a hockey player. Honestly, after a messy divorce, she wasn't looking to tie herself to any man.

Dakota was right. Getting how I felt off my chest had me standing a little taller. And it allowed me to connect with my brother in a way I never thought we would. It was a shame we wouldn't get to spend much time together anymore, being on separate teams.

On our last day in Minnesota, we stopped at my parents' house before I returned to Indianapolis and Dakota went home to Hartford.

Dragging my feet—literally—Dakota had to tug me toward the front door, knocking on it when I refused. I had zero expectations that I would leave this house with the closure she was so hopeful for.

Mom opened the door, and her eyes widened. "Braxton!"

When she stood there, unsure of how to react, I pulled her into a hug. "Hey, Mom."

Her arms tightened around me. We'd always been close, and I knew I would have to apologize for keeping her at arm's length because I couldn't stand to be near Dad recently.

Tears swam in her whiskey eyes when we separated, and her gaze slid to Dakota. "I see you've brought your friend."

It was just like Mom to pretend that Natalie hadn't told her all about my relationship with Dakota or that Dakota hadn't already given her a piece of her mind at Christmas. Looping my arm around the waist of the woman I loved, I said, "Much more than a friend, but I think you already know that." Mom cracked a tiny smile, confirming that she did. "Mom, this is Dakota, my girlfriend."

Nothing if not polite, Mom reached out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Dakota."

Dakota let out a tiny huff but shook Mom's hand. "Nice to see you again, Shannon."

"Yes, well." Mom smoothed both hands along her thighs nervously. "Hopefully, today is more of a relaxed social visit."

"Wouldn't count on it," Dakota muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Mom looked at her curiously.

Clearing my throat, I drew her attention back to me. "I came to talk to Dad."

"Oh dear." Mom placed a hand to the side of her face. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but I need to do it anyway." Dakota gave me a reassuring squeeze from the side.

"Well, come on in. Can I get you anything to drink first?" She moved aside to allow us entry.

"No, thank you," Dakota said.

"Not sure you have anything strong enough," I mused.

"Your father is in the basement," Mom explained. "Dakota, if you'd like to wait up here with me, maybe we can get to know each other a little better."

"I'm staying with Braxton," Dakota declared, daring my mom to challenge her.

Instead, Mom gave a little nod, a silent show of respect. It piqued my curiosity about how their chat at Christmas had gone down. Mom was a strong woman herself, so for her to openly accept that my girl could hold her own against Michael Slate himself spoke volumes.

"I'll be up here if you need anything." Mom opened the fridge, grabbed a pitcher of iced tea, and poured a glass for herself.

"This way." I led the way to the basement door. The moment I opened it, the unmistakable sound of game film floated up the stairs. I knew exactly what Dad was doing down there. This was already off to a bad start.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, I rounded the corner to find my father watching a replay of Game 6 of the championship.

"Dad," I called out, alerting him of our presence.

Spinning in his recliner, he huffed out, "Good. You're here. We need to go over what you did wrong that cost your team the game."

"No." I hated that the word came out so softly that he either didn't hear me or chose to ignore it.

Standing, he pointed to the screen. "Here. Right here, you should have cut to the outside instead of going through the middle. I taught you better than that."

Frustrated after years of verbal abuse, I screamed, "I said NO!"

Dakota jumped at my side, startled by my sudden outburst, but I gave her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance, which she returned.

My father stood there, stunned, his face turning redder with each passing minute.

When he finally found his voice, he boomed, "Excuse me? You think you can waltz into my house after embarrassing me in front of an international audience and not have to own up to your failures?"

Through gritted teeth, I spoke, "I am acutely aware of my failures, Dad. I don't need you to point them out."

His eyes slid to Dakota. "Maybe if you weren't distracted, you could have poured all your focus into your career. You had so much potential. It's a shame to see you wasting it."

That was where I drew the line. Stepping in front of Dakota, I roared, "You don't fucking talk about her! Do you understand?"

"Whatever," he scoffed, taking his seat and turning away from us. "You just proved where your priorities lie."

"Stay here," I murmured over my shoulder to Dakota before stepping in front of the TV. Staring down my father, I said, "I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen. Understood?"

Eyes narrowing, he nodded, so I took a deep breath. This moment had been decades in the making.

"You've been nothing but critical of my game since the day you laced up my first pair of skates. Do you have any idea what that does to a child? To be pushed past the limit, to be told they're never good enough? What kind of psychological damage that does? You practically killed my love of the game before it even had a chance to grow. And you almost ruined the relationship I had with my brother as a result. I resented him for far too long and without reason because you put it in my head that it was a competition between us. I know I will never measure up to Jaxon. No one will. He's special, and I can respect that. But that doesn't mean I can't be great in my own right."

I tilted my head toward Dakota, standing behind him. "And you wanna talk about distractions? Let's do that. You have always been my greatest distraction. Growing up, anytime I had a game, I gripped my stick too tight, knowing that if I made even the tiniest mistake, I would hear about it for days. My eyes were always searching to find where you were in the stands so I could gauge your reactions. Let me tell you, it was your voice I always tracked first. It's a wonder the other parents didn't tell you to go to hell because you were so obnoxious. When I got to Hartford, my worst games were always the ones when I knew you were in attendance, watching and criticizing. Ironically, the first time you came to see me play for the Comets, I had the best game of my professional career, and it still wasn't enough for you. Every time I think I'm getting close to reaching the bar you've set, you move it. It's an impossible task."

"Braxton—" Dad began, but I cut him off.

"And I won't hear you say a bad word about the woman I love being a distraction. She makes me better in all facets of my life. Haven't you seen how falling in love and building a family has spurred Jaxon on? He's playing better in his thirties than he did in his twenties. And the father he is? He is the one I will look to as an example when I become a dad someday. Not just the love he gives those kids, but the support to chase their dreams, no matter what they are. Have you seen Beau play? He has the biggest smile on his face every second he's out on the ice. That's what it should look like for a child. Not debilitating fear that they've disappointed their parent by not scoring enough goals or not winning the game."

Damn, that felt good to get it all off my chest. Point for Dakota for knowing what I needed better than I did.

Stepping around where my father sat stunned, I linked my arm with hers, leading her to the staircase.

"Feel better?" she asked in hushed tones.

"Yeah. You were right." I sighed.

Before we reached the first step, my dad called out behind us, "Braxton, wait!"

Looking skyward, I didn't bother turning around. I hadn't come here for an argument.

"You're right." The words said quietly behind me had me whipping around to face my father, who was now standing.

Was I hearing things? There was no way in hell Michael Slate was admitting fault.

"Come again?" I asked in a daze.

Dad blew out a heavy breath. "You're right. I've been too hard on both of you boys."

Dakota's wide eyes volleyed between the two of us. She was as surprised as I was.

I shrugged. "So, what? You think that can erase my childhood? I will have to live with what you did to me for the rest of my life."

"I just . . ." Dad ran a hand through his short, graying hair. "I only got two shots."

Shots? What the hell does that mean?

He hung his head. "It was wrong to place my burdens on you boys. I thought if you both became these incredible champions that people would remember forever, it would compensate for the ones that never were. But nothing can ease that ache, I'm sad to say. It never leaves you. And I'm sorry. It wasn't fair to either of you."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined an apology from my father after laying out all the ways he'd failed me as a parent.

"Uh . . ." I peeked at Dakota, but the look in her eyes told me it was my choice in how to respond. "Thanks?" I didn't know what to say.

Dad nodded solemnly. "I know I can't ask your forgiveness. But know that I'll try to do better." He spoke to Dakota next. "I only know what I've heard from my wife about you, but I can see you're good for my son. Take care of him, okay?"

"You have my word," Dakota replied.

I tilted my head toward the stairs. "We're gonna go."

"I know I don't say it enough, Braxton," Dad said. "But I am proud of you."

Seriously, what kind of alternate dimension is this basement?

Not having the words, I ducked my head, turning with Dakota and ascending the staircase. Bidding my mom farewell, I waited until we reached the car before asking, "Do you have any clue what that last part was about?"

Dakota gave me a sad smile. "Your parents have dealt with a lot of loss. More than any couple should have to bear."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The age gap between you and Jaxon wasn't by choice." Her blue eyes held so much meaning, but I still didn't understand.

"Can we try not speaking in riddles? What happened in that basement left me confused enough."

Reaching forward, she took my hand. "You were their miracle, Braxton. They lost so many babies between you and your brother." She sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I would have survived it. Your mom kept pushing on, but I guess your dad took it really hard."

"The ones that never were," I repeated my father's words.

Dakota nodded. "Yeah."

"I never knew," I breathed out. "I figured they poured so much energy into Jaxon being a hockey phenom that they didn't have time to have another kid for a while. I never imagined . . ."

"It's a difficult thing for people to talk about," she explained. "Even harder for them to live with the pain."

While it didn't excuse my father's actions, I understood better the source of his own pain.

"I'm sorry they had to go through all of that, but I'm not sorry it's what led to you," she said softly. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"Guess we both had rocky starts that were completely out of our control." A wry laugh fell from my lips.

She smiled up at me. "I have to believe that's what makes us perfect for each other. We understand the pain of disappointing parental figures, and it bonded us."

Stroking a thumb over her cheek, I promised, "Our kids will be so loved."

Dakota smirked. "Oh, are we back to the kids conversation? What happened to going slow?"

"Can't help myself. You make me want the future to happen right now."

She shoved off my chest, putting space between us. "Oh, no. Don't be getting any crazy ideas. I have a lot I want to accomplish before settling down. But it's nice to know it's there when we're ready."

"Speaking of accomplished," I hedged. When she raised an eyebrow, I said, "I want you to put the book back up for sale."

Her mouth dropped open. "What?"

"I am a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong. If my story can help someone out there feel less alone, feel seen, then I can't in good conscience keep it off the shelves."

"You're sure?"

"The only thing I'm more certain of is my love for you." I pulled her into my arms.

"You are something else, you know that?" Dakota mused, breathless.

A smirk teased at the corner of my lips. "Not your stereotypical jock?" I teased.

At the reminder of one of our first verbal sparring sessions, she laughed—the most beautiful sound in the world. "No. You're so much more."

Standing outside my childhood home, I stared down at the woman in my arms. It hadn't been easy, but we'd found our way together not once, but twice. She was worth the fight, and so long as we both kept our promise to never let the other go, I knew our future would be even better than those happily ever afters she wrote. Because ours would be real.