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I reset my focus and look down at my plate. “Not that hungry.”

She cocks her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in my direction. “But you’realwayshungry. What’s the matter?”

Oh, just falling for you. Nothing major.

I open my mouth to offer a completely different response when I’m interrupted by a vibration, followed by a text alert.

“Sorry,” I say, reaching into my jeans pocket. “I thought I put this on si …” I trail off when a name I haven’t seen in a while is on my home screen.

Kendra sits up straight and points to my phone as I continue to stare down at the short message that doesn’t need me to open it to read it in full.

“Who is it?”

I swallow thickly, my appetite now completely depleted. “My dad.”

Dad

Happy birthday, son. Proud of you.

She sets her spoon down, her face full of concern. As far as I’m aware, she doesn’t know anything about my family. Only that I have one sister, my mum is called Felicity, and Jon is both my coach and a future NHL Hall of Famer.

“By the look on your face, I’d say that message is out of the blue and only because it’s your birthday.”

My thumb hovers over the Delete button. I haven’t heard from Dad in months; the last time was when I signed my pro contract with the Blades. I didn’t miss him when he returned to the UK and I stayed in Seattle for college, and I miss him even less now. If my sister wasn’t still in contact with him, I’d have probably severed ties altogether.

I close out the message, but don’t delete it.

When I repocket my phone, Kendra is still watching me expectantly, and I take my first bite of food, attempting to eat something.

“You can talk to me, you know?” she asks.

There’s not much to tell when it comes to my dad. His existence is one I prefer to ignore, but that would also mean shutting out Kendra, and a larger part of me doesn’t want to do that.

I swallow my mouthful and chase it down with a sip of water.

“Sometimes, I’m tempted to ask Mum if she had an affair with the milkman since my dad and I couldn’t be any more different.”

“So, he’s an asshole?” she asks with a raised brow.

“Something like that, yeah. He’s not a regular fixture in my life, and I can’t say I’m sad about it. He gets on better with Darce than he ever did with me. He and Jon have had several run-ins, and I can’t say I blame Jon for hating him.”

I think back to the first Christmas following my parents’ divorce. I was in my first year of college, and Dad and Darcy had returned to Oxford. Mum had just started seeing Jon but was determined to spend the holidays with us. We were supposed to all stay together in our old house for few days, but the second we arrived, the tension was palpable. I could tell my dad was waiting for an opportunity to grill Mum on her new relationship. He said he wanted to try again with her, but really, it was more about his own ego and the fact that she’d moved on, which motivated his actions.

Just like Tyler with Kendra.

We didn’t even make it past Christmas Day. When Darcy and I were out of the house, seeing friends, Dad started verbally attacking Mum. He’d been harassing her for a while, but the only thing that stopped him? Jon’s fist to his face.

That was the turning point for me. The day I told myself I might have his DNA, but I’d never be like him.

“Jack.” Kendra breaks me from my thoughts as she reaches across the table and finds my hand, taking it in hers.

I look down at the connection between us and then back up at her. “Yeah, Hart?”

“Can I ask you something? No pressure to answer or anything.” Her voice is as soft as the palm in my hand.

“Anything,” I reply.

“You had loads of friends in college, but you only ever dated one person that I remember. I knew her from my class. She seemed really into you, but you broke it off with her after a few weeks. What’s the story there?”