Chapter 52

Wade

"I have a lot of explaining to do." Marcus stares out the windows overlooking the creek. "If you'll please hear me out."

"I will." I want to hear his reason for keeping me a secret for so long, directly from his mouth, in his own words.

For me, there is only one word to explain it.

Shame.

I was the living, talking, breathing evidence of their adultery. Every day Miranda laid eyes on me, I was a constant reminder of what she did. That's why she couldn't look at me.

It all makes sense now.

My mother used it as an excuse to treat me the way she did. I was her scapegoat.

When she was the one to blame. Marcus too.

Nicki was spot on; I have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.

Since Nicki left with Lola and Zane twenty minutes ago, Marcus and I have made awkward small talk, mainly about the team and the games we've won.

Well, I mean they have won. I haven't played for a month. It's the longest I"ve ever spent off the ice.

"I've been a fool, Wade."

"That's putting it politely." I lean back against the kitchen island and fold my arms across myself. "Why?" It's a broad question and could mean anything.

"I was embarrassed."

"Of me?" Fuck, that hurts.

"No." He turns to face me, his face full of panic. "Of what I did. To my wife. My friend. My family. My unborn son."

"I'm your son."

He frowns, shaking his head several times, before letting out a defeated sigh. "It's not coming out right, that's not what I meant. God, this is harder than I thought." He runs his hands through his silver hair and plonks himself down on the sofa, as if the weight of his confession is too heavy for his shoulders to bear.

"I was young and foolish. A fucking idiot. I ripped an entire family apart."

"You both did."

"I'm sorry, Wade. I really am truly sorry for what I did."

"But you kept seeing her. For years."

"Nicki and I?—"

"Were a business arrangement. Yeah, she told me. She's a good woman. You need to figure out a way to hold on to her. She's a better human than you could ever be."

"I'm still figuring that out."

"I'm sure she'll tell you what needs to happen." She'll ensure she gets everything she deserves and will make Marcus follow her around like a puppy dog when this is all over. I just know it.

"You paid Miranda a lot of money."

"To pay for everything you needed. You never went without."

"I went without love or a good mother." Thank the heavens above for Gretchen. "You paid her thousands every month." Way more than the cost of monthly hockey lessons and new sneakers.

His face turns crimson. "She kept asking for more and more. She threatened to tell Nicki. Despite the non-disclosure agreement we filed agreeing none of us would ever speak about it, Miranda decided that wasn't enough. She always wanted more."

"So, she used you for money, and in return, she repaid her gratitude with her body?" God, that makes me feel sick.

He doesn't deny it. "And I prioritized the team over doing the right thing. To save face." He blows out a deep breath before continuing, "In the beginning, she was fun and exciting. A break from my responsibilities. It was thrilling. When Ritchie was away for a month on business in China, and from the dates, Miranda, and I both knew you were mine, there was never any doubt. And after you were born, I didn't see her for a while. But then Ritchie discovered you weren't his."

"How?"

"He overheard a conversation between Miranda and I at one of our restaurants. She was telling me she couldn't deny it any longer because you looked just like me."

I do. It's so obvious to me now.

"Hours later, it all blew up. And the rest is history."

"Great," I say sarcastically. That makes it worse. "You know you sound like a fucking asshole right now, don't you? As well as pathetic and selfish?"

"I do. Because I was."

"You still are."

"I am." His voice is barely audible. "I did everything in my power to uphold the team's impeccable name and reputation, but I lost sight of what was more important. I've been a fool. I should have put you first."

"But you didn't."

"And I broke Nicki's heart. Zane blames me for everything. He's so mad at me for allowing Ritchie to rip you away from Lola." He leans his back into the chair and wipes his hand across his forehead.

"I don't know how to fix this, Wade." Hopelessness slips into his words.

"Neither do I, but I want to," I tell him honestly. "I'm not sure if I can ever forgive you. You made me believe you were my friend. Someone who cared about my well-being and my career."

"I am. Why the hell do you think I pulled a support team together for you?"

"Guilt." I take a guess.

"No"

"To save the reputation of the team?" That's more accurate given what he's confessed.

"That too, but I brought that team in for you. Because you're a sensational hockey player. Hockey runs through your blood, and you were throwing your career away. I wasn't going to let you do that."

My blood burns white hot. "I lost the people I loved. Amelia first, then Gretchen. They both left me. I had no one. Have you got any idea what I've been through? And you never once asked me how I was."

He looks at me with pity filled eyes… or maybe it's guilt. "I swear to you, Wade, I had no idea she treated you the way she did. Kali filled Nicki in on a few home truths. And I didn't know Gretchen died. You never told anyone." He's right. Jordy was the only one I told on the team. Ezra and Myles came to the funeral too, but I even planned the funeral on a day when there was no training or games. I didn't want anyone on the team to know.

I point at my chest, my voice louder than I wanted, because the last thing I want to do is lose my shit. I can't go back down that lane again. However, Marcus is making me want to punch a hole in his face. "Gretchen was the only person who actually cared about me. Because your mistress," I can't bear to say her name, it's like poison on my lips, "never did. She was a great actress, so no one knew how dreadful she was. You may have been dazzled by her beauty, but it was all an act. She's certainly revealed her true colors to you eventually, huh? She slept with your son."

He shakes his head in disgust.

My words keep pouring out, "She's disgusting and an ugly crow under all that fa?ade. So, forgive me for losing myself for a few months, but I had nobody to turn to. How could I go to the woman who dished out years of verbal abuse like hot dinners? How could I have asked her for help? She would have been as useful as I am right now. That's why I went off the rails, not because I'm an asshole, unlike your other son."

"He's getting professional help now. I'm done covering for him."

"He'll need years in therapy." After what he did to Kali, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive him.

"He's your brother."

"He's nothing to me right now. To me, he is someone who has taunted me my entire hockey career."

"He's jealous of you, Wade."

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Jealous? I don't think so."

"It's true. He's talented, but he has to put in the extra effort, extra training sessions, more than anyone. Your talent comes naturally. You're gifted. He's good, you're great. His jealousy is so obvious. Can't you see it?"

I didn't, but maybe he's right.

"I promise you, he's not the same man he was the night at the hotel, Wade. He's been going to therapy, and he's changed for the better. You have my word."

Which doesn't count for much these days.

I rub my fingers into my temples. "I don't know what to believe anymore. You know, the best thing to ever happen to me was being drafted. It gave me hope. It bought us this house, so we could get away from my sorry excuse of a mother. Gretchen was my mom. Not her." I point off into the distance, referring to the woman who is probably doing God knows what with God knows who. "And now you've made me question everything. My ability. My gift. Is that what you called it? My career. Am I good enough to play for an NHL team? Do I even belong there?"

He shoots up to his feet. "You belong there, Wade." He points at me. "There was never any doubt about that. You've been a phenomenal hockey player since you were seven and don't ever let anyone ever tell you any different. There was no favoritism."

Part of me wants to believe him. The other part of me is confused and doubtful.

I don't know who or what to trust anymore.

"You never watched me play when I was younger. How would you know?"

"I was at every game you played." His voice rises.

"For the Eagles, yes," I confirm.

"No. Before that."

"Before that?" What the hell does he mean?

"I attended every game you played from when you were seven."

"What?" I struggle to take in his admission.

"I sat in the back, away from everyone, watching you play. I was so proud. You were a force to be reckoned with from the minute you stepped out onto the ice and I never, ever, missed a game. Not one. I watched you move through the leagues, Atom, Peewee, Bantam, Midget, Major Junior. I followed you until the day you were drafted. I was there. You were drafted because you are a phenomenal hockey player. The entire coaching team agreed. It was never just my decision."

I can't believe what I am hearing. "Is that true? You came to all my games?" It's what I always wanted. Knowing this makes me feel like I had someone there for me after all, just like all the other kids.

He points to a small but thick photo album sitting on the coffee table I hadn't noticed until now. "I photographed every one."

I never cry, but I feel like fucking crying, as a cannonball size lump builds in the back of my throat. "We can't fix everything with a photo album."

"I know that."

"But I guess it's a start." I throw him an olive branch of sorts.

Walking slowly in my direction, he stands in front of me. "I do love you, Wade."

"It's just words." I feel uncomfortable being this close to someone I thought was my boss, the owner of the team I have loved all my life and dreamed of playing for, who turned out to be my father.

"I mean them."

I drop my eyes and my voice. "I wish you had told me I was your son."

He places his hand on my shoulder. I want to shrug it off, but I also crave the physical contact.

"There are things I cannot undo. I messed up. But know this Wade, I want to tell the world that you're mine now. I'm so proud of you and what you've become." He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. It's like looking in a mirror. "Kali loves you. She did right by you and protected you from this mess I created. I didn't protect you then. Please let me make it up to you. Please, just give me a chance to prove to you that I want you in my life."

I frown, shaking my head in disbelief with his big hands around my face. "And it's not because Nicki and Zane, or me, want to save the team's reputation. It's got nothing to do with that anymore. You're mine, Wade. I should have told everyone about you from the moment you were born."

Perhaps with time, I can forgive him. I'm not ready to do that yet. But maybe one day.

"And what about the team? Have you spoken to them?"

"I did this morning. I confirmed the rumors were true, apologized to each and every one of them for the distress I have caused. I have a press release confirming I'm your father scheduled for tomorrow evening, along with an official apology to everyone involved, requesting the media give us some time and space. If you agree to me sending it."

"Can I read it first before you send it out?"

"Of course."

"Is Nicki making you do this?"

"It was my idea. I want to do this. It's time."

It's on the edge of my tongue to ask if it hadn't come out in the press would he have ever told me, but I don't because my ego, my heart nor my mind could handle his reply. They are too fragile.

"Did Kali write the press release?"

"No. Kali fired me as a client the night you flew to LA. I wrote it myself. This isn't about business anymore, Wade. This is personal. It's about family. She made it very clear that I was not someone she would work with. I lost her trust. Given her involvement with you, I think that makes sense now anyway." He lets out a long sigh. "She was working with you for no fee toward the end. There was zero obligation for her to continue to do the rest of the season, but she did, for you, because she loves you. Can't you see that?"

"I said some terrible things. I blamed her for everything."

"Blame me. Not her."

"If I call, what would I say?"

"Sorry."

"It's not that simple."

"No, but like you said, it's a start."