CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Between the three of them, they went through the better part of three bottles of wine and Dom's head swam as he stood after dinner to help Shea clear the table.

Kurt regaled them with stories as they worked and when they were done, he slid a case out of his pocket.

"How would you feel about some cigars and whiskey?"

Shea smiled but shook his head. "No thank you. I appreciate the offer though."

"Dom?"

"Sure, why not?" Dom was going to regret it in the morning but fuck it. It was as good of an opportunity as any to talk one-on-one with his dad. "Let's go out on the balcony."

He gestured for his father to precede him, then walked over to Shea, who was putting food away.

"Thank you," he murmured, pressing his lips to Shea's cheek.

"For what?"

"For understanding."

Dom retrieved whiskey stones from the freezer, then popped them into rocks glasses and carried them out, along with a bowl to use as an ashtray.

The sun was low on the horizon as Dom settled into a chair overlooking Lake Ontario, remembering the first cigar he'd ever smoked with his father, after his draft day.

Dom had choked and sputtered on it and his father had slapped him on the back and told him it would make a man out of him. And if that didn't say everything about their relationship, what did?

But he was here and he was trying and maybe, just maybe, they could clean up some of the mess their relationship had turned into.

Dom poured a few fingers of the whiskey his father had brought and they were both silent as they went through the ritual of cutting the cap off the cigar, warming the tobacco, then lighting it.

For a few minutes, they puffed in silence.

They were good cigars, of course. Cuban, because that was what his father preferred. Dom had a sudden flash of memories of his dad and his teammates smoking them in the basement rec room, playing poker and drinking.

They'd taught Dom how to gamble and smoke and drink and Jesus Christ, they'd bought him his first—and, thankfully, last—lap dance from a woman he'd wanted nothing to do with.

Eventually, when Dom couldn't stand another second of silence, he cleared his throat. "You said you had things you wanted to tell me."

"Yes." Kurt sighed, looking out at the lake. "Just trying to work up to it."

"Okay." Dom watched the wind ruffle the water, sending up white sprays, the mellow scent of tobacco, leather, and spice clinging to his tongue.

Something appeared on the horizon, and it took Dom a minute to realize it was a large sailboat, heading back toward the harbor.

"Your mother knew," Kurt finally said.

"Did she?" Dom lifted his brows, still staring at the sailboat, oddly mesmerized by the way it glided across the waves.

"Yes. It was part of the plan."

"The plan?" Dom echoed blankly. He set down his cigar and glanced over at his father.

"I wanted a child and that wasn't going to happen if I only slept with men."

"Wait," Dom said, his head spinning, feeling dazed and not sure if it was the smoke or the drinks that caused it. "Start at the beginning."

"Your mother and I met at the Olympics. Simone Moreau was a beautiful woman and a hell of a skater. I was intrigued by her because there weren't many women I found appealing."

"Okay."

Kurt shrugged. "Besides, you know what it's like, there's sex everywhere there."

"Sure," Dom said slowly. Though he hadn't exactly partaken in the hookups everyone else seemed to enjoy in the Olympic Village.

He was sure he could have, if he'd been willing to risk it. But he hadn't been, so he'd watched his teammates flirt with women, feeling resentful of their freedom.

"After that first time, Simone and I talked a lot. And after the Olympics, we stayed in contact."

"And then you found out she was pregnant with me," Dom said dully.

"No." Kurt furrowed his brow. "No, you were very much planned."

"What?"

"The more Simone and I talked, the more I learned how unhappy she was with her coach. She didn't have the money to find a new one. I had plenty of money. She wanted a change, so I offered her financial security in exchange for giving me a child."

"Okay." Dom rubbed his hands over his face because Christ that was a lot of information to learn in one go. "Wouldn't getting pregnant and giving birth delay her career though?"

Dom wasn't exactly an expert on women's bodies or on pregnancy and birth, but that felt pretty obvious, even to him.

"Sure but we thought it would happen right away," Kurt admitted. "That she'd have time."

Dom rubbed his head. "Right, so the plan was to get married so she could live and train in Canada with you and you'd knock her up?"

"Yeah. That was what we'd agreed on. The plan was that when you were a little older, she'd return to France. You'd stay with me and Vanessa."

Dom nodded. Vanessa had been his nanny.

"And Mom knew you were gay," Dom said flatly.

He shrugged. "Much more interested in men than women, anyway. I cared about Simone but we both knew I'd make a lousy husband to her."

"Right. So what the hell happened?"

"There were some—some complications after your birth so she was no longer able to skate." Kurt blew a smoke ring into the air. "Besides, she loved you and knew she couldn't leave you. So we agreed she'd start coaching and she'd keep taking care of you with Vanessa's help."

"Right," Dom managed. "But you fucked around with men and she grew to hate you for that."

His parents had lived totally separate lives and he remembered them arguing far more than getting along.

"Having an open marriage was part of our agreement!" Kurt protested. "She knew that."

"But she got jealous."

"No. I do think she was lonely but you've got this all wrong, Dom. I fucked up. I fell in love with Robert."

"Oh." Dom felt breathless and he stood, walking over to the railing, staring out at the water, the smoke suddenly cloying, nearly choking him.

"Yeah."

"Still, that had to hurt," Dom said, looking over his shoulder. "Finding out your husband was in love with someone else."

"I never stopped her from having lovers. Hell, I wanted her to find someone she cared about too."

"Right. So you two were going to go on like that forever?" He turned away from the water to face his father.

"We agreed to stay married until you turned twenty. We were so close to that, less than a year away, and then …"

"And then I walked in on you with him," Dom said dully.

Robert , his brain helpfully supplied, although Dom hated the thought of giving the man a name. Of making him human, someone his father had loved, not just been fucking around with.

Someone his mother knew about and had at least, in theory, been accepting of. It was so different from the story he'd had in his head for the past two decades.

"Yes."

Dom frowned because this situation still wasn't making sense. "So if Mom knew , why was she so angry when I told her about you and your—your boyfriend?"

"Because I'd promised her that you'd never find out about us."

" Oh ." The pieces were finally beginning to fit together in a way that made sense.

"She was angry because I'd broken that promise."

"Well, it wasn't intentional," Dom protested but the look on his father's face made him pause. "Or was it?"

Kurt winced. "I never planned it but maybe some part of me hoped you'd find us. I was getting reckless."

"So she thought you did it on purpose."

"Yes. I was tired of the lies, tired of pretending—"

Dom frowned. "Pretending what?"

"That I wasn't in love with him." Kurt glanced down at his hand. He wore a slim gold band. Dom had assumed it was the one from his parents' marriage but it hit him now that that one had been larger. Flashier. "We're married, you know."

"You've been with the same guy for twenty some years and you're married to him?" Dom asked, flabbergasted.

"No." Kurt looked up. "I've been with him for nearly forty."

"Jesus Christ." Dom rubbed his mouth, feeling a little sick. "How the fuck did you keep it a secret?"

Kurt shrugged. "We stayed out of the eye of the media and, remember, this was long before the days of camera phones and JockGossip . And after you were an adult and playing in the NHL, Robert and I moved to a smaller town and I stayed out of the spotlight. For years we lived in fear, rarely going out in public together, sure someone would out us but … it hasn't happened. They've respected our privacy."

"Mother fucker," Dom swore. "I tried so hard to keep things with Shea under wraps and—"

But had he? Or had some part of him wanted, needed that push?

Kurt must have been thinking along those lines too because he said, "You're a lot like your old man."

"Apparently." Dom wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"I know you were angry after you walked in on me and Robert. And I'm sorry you learned about us that way. I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to tell you to your face who I was. Who I loved." Kurt looked down. "I'm not saying it's an excuse, but you know what it was like then. What people said. What they thought about men like me—like us."

Dom nodded and gripped the railing behind him.

"And after you found out, I thought you were disgusted by me. By my being with men."

"No," Dom croaked. "Not by you sleeping with men. I … I misunderstood. I thought you were cheating on Mom and lying to her and I was angry at that. And maybe it was all tied up in how I felt about myself too."

"Fuck." Kurt shook his head. "I had no idea you—you were into men too. I thought I was protecting you, but I wonder now if I made you ashamed of who you were."

"Yes," Dom admitted.

Kurt winced. "I—I'm sorry. I really am."

Dom nodded.

"I know this was a lot to take in. And I understand it's—it's a little fucked up—"

"A little?" Dom echoed.

"Maybe a lot. I'm not saying the decisions your mother and I and Robert and I made were right but we—we only had so many options. It was the early eighties when I met your mother, Dom. There was no chance in hell I was going to come out. You know how bad the league was ten years ago. Forty ? I'd have lost everything. I'd never have played hockey again."

Dom swallowed hard.

His father wasn't wrong .

Even if the decisions his parents had made seemed fucked up now, he could see why they'd made sense at the time.

He didn't like them or agree with them, but he could understand them on some level.

"Why didn't you tell me this then?" Dom asked.

"Because you wouldn't let me."

Dom opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again. It was true. Both of his parents had reached out to him. They'd called numerous times, until he'd changed his number. His mother had written letters, which had gone into the trash, unopened.

"You're right," he admitted.

"Maybe I should have pushed it. Shown up after a game and demanded you talk to me but—"

"No, I get why you didn't." Dom felt dizzy. His whole life upended in one evening.

Kurt sighed heavily. "The only reason I reached out now was because I saw that you were with Shea."

Dom frowned. "You thought I'd be more sympathetic to your story."

"I suppose. I thought—I hoped that because it had been so many years, you might be willing to hear me out. Remember, I had no idea you were gay. Or bi?"

"Gay," Dom said with a sigh. "And I hadn't thought about that. That you didn't know about me."

"And I don't—I don't expect to fix twenty years of not talking—"

"More like my whole damn life," Dom said flatly. Because it turned out, he'd hardly known his father at all.

They'd kept so much from each other, all in the name of protecting their careers.

Dom felt a sudden wave of regret for having kept Dustin and Matty and hell, even Shea at such a distance for so long.

He'd hurt them, hadn't he?

"Forty years of not talking," Kurt continued. "But I'd like to fix that."

"Yeah?" Dom glanced up.

He nodded. "Yeah, I would. I want a relationship with you again if you're interested. I know it won't happen overnight but I'd like to try."

"I would like that," Dom said slowly. "I'm finishing up this art history course and training and then it'll be back into playoffs so maybe not until the off-season but … yeah. Yeah, we could do that."

"Maybe sometime this summer you and Shea can come visit. Meet Robert. If that's something you'd want."

"Uhh, yeah, maybe. I'll talk to Shea about it," Dom managed. Right now, he couldn't quite picture meeting his father's partner—husband—but maybe after he had a little more time to let all of this settle …

As Dom took a seat again, a thought occurred to him. "Hey, how did you find my number anyway?"

"Oh, I got it through Jimmy Brady."

Dom laughed, a short, sharp bark of a laugh, because wasn't that fucking ironic. Dom and his father had never played hockey together but they had both played with Jimmy.

And Jimmy was the guy who had recommended Select Image Consulting to Dom.

"Does Jimmy know you're gay?" Dom asked.

Kurt frowned. "No. Why would he?"

Dom shrugged. "Just curious."

It felt like a weird sort of fate.

Although no one had known about Christian, after Dom had been traded to Toronto, he'd gotten drunk and complained about how difficult dating was and that he wanted something simple and no strings attached.

Jimmy had pulled him aside and quietly suggested the escort service. He'd assumed Dom would be interested in women but …

He'd inadvertently introduced Dom and Shea and helped him reconnect with his father.

Dom owed him big-time.

"You should call your mother," Kurt said softly. "She's been hurt by the whole thing."

Dom winced. For years, he'd assumed her anger about Dom telling her that her husband was fucking men was directed at him . And he'd never given her a chance to clarify that.

He'd been hurt by her reaction but he'd wound up hurting her instead.

"I will. Can you send me her number?"

"Yes. She's back in France now, you know? Re-married."

"I heard," Dom said, although that was only partly true. He'd looked her up online periodically, wondering how she was doing.

"She seems happy."

"That's good."

"Dom?"

He glanced over at his father. "Yeah?"

"There's one thing I want you to know. I have a lot of regrets about the choices I made. But having you, that was never a regret."

Dom nodded, his throat too thick to respond with words. He'd needed to hear that. "I'm glad you messaged me," he finally forced out.

They sat in silence for a little while before Kurt stubbed out his cigar. "Well, I should probably head out. Thanks for inviting me over. Tell Shea I said thank you and I hope to see him again."

"I will. I'm glad you came," Dom said, rising to his feet. "It was good to clear the air."

"We should probably do it more often," Kurt said.

Dom nodded. "We should."

Dom walked his father to the door and realized they were both a little unsteady on their feet. Not drunk. But not sober either. Definitely not safe behind a wheel.

"Hey, are you okay to drive?" he asked with a frown.

Kurt smiled. "I'm going to get a cab. I'm staying in the city for a few days and catching up with some old friends."

"Did Robert come?"

Kurt shook his head. "He's at home with the dogs."

Dogs . Kurt Olson lived in a home with a man he'd been with for forty years. They'd gotten married and had dogs. Jesus Christ.

"Okay. Well, be safe," Dom said.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, managed an awkward hug, and then Kurt disappeared through the door.

After Dom closed it and locked it behind him, he walked out onto the balcony.

He intended to clear away the remnants of the cigars, drinks, and the makeshift ashtray, but his legs suddenly felt like they couldn't hold his weight anymore.

He sank onto the chair with a sigh, his head spinning.

He tried to digest everything he'd learned but it felt overwhelming.

He had no idea how long he sat there before the door opened and Shea stepped out. "Hey."

Dom let out a heavy sigh, glad to see him. "Hey."

"You doing okay?"

"I honestly have no idea," Dom admitted. "I'm … fuck."

"Want some company?"

"I'd love that." Dom held out his arm and Shea walked over.

But when he made a move like he was going to sit in the seat beside Dom, Dom reached out and pulled him onto his lap.

Shea tilted his head and kissed Dom before he straightened, wrinkling his nose. "Gross. You taste like whiskey and cigars."

Dom nodded. "I know. Sorry."

"And I'm pretty sure this chair isn't going to hold four hundred pounds of weight for too much longer."

"Probably not." Hopefully if it collapsed, he wouldn't end up with another fucking aneurysm.

"Seriously, are you okay, baby?" Shea dragged his blunt nails across Dom's scalp and he shuddered at the sensation.

"Absolutely fucking not." Dom sighed, leaning into the touch.

He told Shea everything his father had said and when he was done, he could still hardly believe it was all true.

"Uhh." Shea blinked. "Okay. Well, that's fucked up."

"Yep." Dom leaned his forehead against Shea's shoulder for a moment. "I'm pretty sure I'm the most emotionally healthy person in my family."

"Well, that's terrifying."

"Tell me about it," Dom said drily.

Dom had slept restlessly, so Shea wasn't surprised when he woke first.

He watched Dom for a few minutes, the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing and the warmth of his body lulling Shea into a drowsy state of contentment.

But eventually, the urges of his bladder won out and he slipped into the bathroom to take care of them and brush his teeth. While he was up, he brewed coffee and fixed it the way Dom liked it.

The smell, or maybe the sounds of him moving around, must have woken Dom because when Shea set a mug on his nightstand, Dom stretched, yawning.

"Morning." Dom reached out, pulling him down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Morning, baby. I made you coffee."

"You spoil me." Dom got out of bed, his hair wild, his eyes still half-lidded. Possibly a little hungover. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

Since neither of them had to be anywhere this morning, Shea settled with his back against the headboard, sipping his coffee.

He smiled as Dom stumbled toward the bathroom, still looking half-asleep but lighter. Happier. More at ease.

Some of it was the pain relief of course. Now that the aneurysm was no longer pressing on crucial nerves, the pain and numbness had dissipated. Dom didn't hold himself so stiffly and the imbalance in his hips was going away.

He wasn't getting muscle spasms anymore and he moved more freely.

But Shea knew a lot of Dom's current mood had to do with the talk he'd had with his father last night. Shea still couldn't believe how fucked up the whole situation with Dom's parents had been.

But clearing the air was obviously something Dom had needed.

Dom looked a little more alive when he returned to the bedroom, his hair tidied and his breath minty-fresh as he pressed a kiss to Shea's hair, then settled on the bed beside him, stretched out on his side.

"Come here. I want to talk to you about something."

Shea raised an eyebrow but set his mug on the nightstand and slid down so he mirrored Dom's position. Dom clasped his hand and looked him in the eye.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Shea frowned. "For what?"

"For being there for me all of the times I needed you."

"That's what you do for someone you care about," Shea said, squeezing Dom's hand.

Dom's swallow was audible. "I know. And that's why I need to say this. It's been hard for me to get the words out because—because of a lot of things, but you need to know it now. I love you."

"What?" Shea blinked, suddenly shaky. Was he dreaming?

"I know we've—we've come a long way since we first met." Dom smiled a little. "And when you moved in here, it was because of the PR stuff. But you have to know how I feel. How much you matter to me. And I know I haven't done a good job showing that to you but I will. I will if you'll let me."

"Dom," Shea whispered, barely believing this was happening.

Dom lifted their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to Shea's knuckles. "I'm never going to be the guy who shouts my love for you from the rooftops. That's not me , but I want you to know that I do love you."

He took a deep breath. "You don't have to say it back if you don't want. If you don't feel it too, but I hope—"

Shea blinked back tears, rasping, "Dom. I've been wanting to tell you that for months . Maybe a year. I don't know exactly how long, but—"

"What?"

Shea sighed. "You ridiculous, stubborn, closed-off man, I've been in love with you for so fucking long and I've been trying to be patient, hoping you'd get there too."

"Say it, please," Dom whispered. "Say the words."

Shea smiled, reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers along Dom's cheek before tucking his hair behind his ear. "I love you, Dominic Olson."

Dom trembled. "I love you too. God, Shea, you have no idea …"

He leaned in, pressing their lips together. His lips were soft and tender against Shea's, careful and reverent.

When they drew apart, Dom was smiling. There was a light in his eyes that Shea had never seen before.

Shea didn't want to make that light go out, not for anything, but there was one thing Dom needed to know. "When you woke up after your surgery, you told me you loved me," he admitted.

Dom blinked. "I did?"

"Yeah." Shea nodded. "I hoped you meant it but I wanted to give you time to be ready to say it when you weren't under the influence."

Dom gave him a crooked smile. "Huh. It seems like I get very honest when I'm impaired."

"You do," Shea agreed.

Dom's smile became a frown. "But I don't want that to be the only time I'm honest with you."

"You're sober now, right?" Shea asked.

Dom rubbed his face. "Yeah. Hungover but sober."

"Then we're off to a good start," Shea assured him.

Dom pulled him close. "God, I don't deserve you," he whispered against Shea's temple. "But I want to. I want to be better for you."

Shea carded his fingers through Dom's hair. "How about we both try to do our best?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." But Dom drew back a little, his frown deepening. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Anything you want."

"Didn't it hurt you?" Dom asked, softly rubbing his thumb across Shea's cheek. He looked worried. "Loving someone who couldn't say it back?"

"I felt your love sometimes," Shea said quietly. "I wasn't sure but I thought—well, the night of the fire, and what you did after the JockGossip article …"

"Yeah?"

Shea nodded. "You might not have said it until recently but you showed it."

Dom trailed his fingertips across Shea's lips. "I need to say it too though, don't I?"

Shea shrugged, smiling a little. "It's nice to hear, yeah."

"Then I'll say it more. You deserve everything," Dom whispered. "Everything good in the world."

Shea blinked, emotion welling up at Dom's heartfelt words. "What I want is you."

"You have me."

"Do I?" Shea asked. "Are we …"

"Yes. Stay here. Or we'll find a new place together, just stay with me and love me and—"

"I like it here."

Dom smiled. "Then we'll stay here. I'll finish this season and I'll go back to school and get a degree and maybe someday I'll get a position in the Fisher Cats' head office. But most importantly, I'll come home to you."

Wonder settled over Shea, dizzying him with possibilities. "That's what you want?"

"That's what I want. Will you say yes?"

"Yes," Shea whispered. "Yes, of course. That's what I want too."

"I'd like to take you to Paris this off-season," Dom said softly. "And I was thinking, maybe we could go to Burgundy too. So you can meet my mother."

"I'd love that." Shea bit his lip. "There's just one problem with you meeting my parents though."

Dom arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"You're going to have to win another Cup first."

Laughing, Dom pushed Shea down onto the mattress. "Well, I guess if it'll get me in good with your parents …"

"Fuck, I love you," Shea said thickly, as much because he finally could as anything else.

Dom's eyes glowed as he pressed a kiss to Shea's cheek, then the corner of his mouth. "I love you too, Shea Barnett," he whispered against his lips.