Page 13

Chapter 13

Surprise

Nora

I ’d been avoiding this moment for forty-eight hours, watching the clock tick by with the enthusiasm of someone awaiting their own execution. The rational part of my brain knew I needed to tell Dominic about the pregnancy, but the survival-oriented part of my brain had a much stronger argument: Don’t poke the bear after a loss.

And last night’s game had been a disaster.

But was now a good time? We started out the morning with a team meeting in which Coach Lovell highlighted the numerous mistakes from last night’s brutal five-to-one loss to Vancouver, and now the team was having a shit practice.

From my position near the boards, I watched Dominic. His posture was a case study in frustration. His shoulders were rigid, his jaw clenched tight enough to pulverize a jawbreaker, and his eyes focused on some distant point like he was trying to set it on fire with his mind. Every play was executed with barely contained rage.

After what felt like the longest practice in hockey history, Coach Lovell wrapped things up. I lingered near the entrance of the locker room as the players filed past, wiping sweat from their brows and discussing plans for their day off tomorrow. Miles caught my eye and gave me a small smile that I returned half-heartedly.

My stomach churned as Dominic approached. Whether it was morning sickness or nerves, I couldn’t tell anymore. I’d been putting this off for too long. Game day protocol meant never delivering potentially distracting news before a match, but now there were no more excuses. Just me, him, and a truth that would irreversibly change both our lives.

“Wilson, got a minute?” My voice projected a confidence I didn’t feel.

“What for?” His tone held all the warmth of a Minnesota winter.

“I need to discuss something with you.” I swallowed hard, tasting the remnants of this morning’s ginger tea, my new constant companion instead of coffee. “In private.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, reminding me of one of those wind-up toys ready to explode. “Can it wait? I’m not exactly in the mood for another skating lecture.”

“It’s not about that.” I lowered my voice, aware of the curious glances from passing staff members. They’d gotten used to our post-practice discussions, but this was different. Everything was different now. “My office. Please.” I tacked on the ‘please’ like a peace offering, though the news I had to share was more akin to dropping a bomb.

He studied me for a long moment, and I wondered if he could see the secret written across my face in neon letters. Then he gave a curt nod. “Fine. Let me shower first.”

I’d straightened several stacks of papers and was pacing the small confines of my office like a caged animal.

I’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen different ways, but none of them seemed right. When the knock finally came, it startled me, even after spending the last twenty minutes anticipating it.

“Come in,” I called, smoothing down my shirt unnecessarily.

Dominic entered, freshly showered, his damp hair curling at the temples. He’d changed into jeans and a simple gray T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. Even in his current state—exhausted, defeated, and wary—he was ridiculously attractive. My traitorous body still reacted to him. Wonderful. Apparently, pregnancy hormones weren’t helping my libido make better choices.

“This better be important.” He closed the door behind him, and his eyes darted to the basket on the floor next to my desk.

It was an elaborate arrangement of gourmet chocolates, herbal teas, ginger candies, and a teddy bear holding a tiny bear in its arms. Carter had sent it earlier, and I may have teared up at how sweet it was.

“Have a seat.” I gestured to the empty chairs across from my desk as I sat down.

He stood with his arms crossed, keeping the desk between us like a shield. “I’ll stand. What did you want to discuss?”

My carefully prepared speech evaporated. How exactly does one segue into “surprise, you’re going to be a father”?

I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and decided to rip off the Band-Aid. “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and impossible to take back.

Dominic’s expression didn’t change except for a slight widening of his eyes. For a second, I wondered if he’d heard me at all.

“You’re...” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and lowered into a chair. “Is this a joke?”

“No, it’s not a joke.” I pressed my palms against my desk to keep them from shaking.

The silence that followed was so complete I could hear the distant sounds of skates scraping ice from the rink down the hall.

His face remained perfectly, unnaturally still, like someone had pressed pause on his expressions. Only his eyes moved, darting from my face to my stomach and back again, as if searching for visual confirmation of what I’d just said.

He finally cleared his throat. “That’s not possible. We used condoms and… Carter.” His voice came out strained, and he ran a hand down his face.

“The friction from the condoms might have caused them to not work…”

His face cycled through disbelief, confusion, and fear before settling on something carefully blank. “How do you know it’s mine? It could be Carter’s or who knows who else you’ve fucked.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “I’ve already confirmed paternity. Carter took a test. It’s not his, and there are no other possibilities.”

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyes focusing on me with laser intensity. “You already tested him? When exactly did you find out about this?”

I straightened in my chair. “Two weeks ago, and I had a prenatal paternity test done last week. I wanted to be sure before I said anything. We got the results two days ago, and I didn’t want to tell you right before a game.”

“How considerate.” The sarcasm in his voice could have etched glass. “You told Carter first?”

“Yes.” No point in lying. “I didn’t want to drag you into something until I was sure who the father was.”

He stood abruptly. “So let me get this straight. You’ve known for two days that I’m going to be a father, and you’re just now telling me? After you already told Carter?” His voice rose with each word.

“Yesterday was a game day?—”

“Oh, right.” His eyes flashed with annoyance. “Because it would be such a crime if you distracted me from the game that I completely fucked up anyway.”

“That’s not fair. You know we don’t deliver… personal news before games. It’s protocol.”

“Protocol?” He laughed bitterly. “This isn’t a fucking injury report, Nora. This is my life.”

I stood too, needing to feel less small in this moment. “It’s my life too, Dominic. And my career. I’ve been trying to process what this means for everything I’ve worked for.”

“Is that why you went to him first? Testing your options?” The accusation hung heavy between us.

“That’s not what happened. I was scared, and he seemed like the safer option to tell first.”

Wrong thing to say.

“Safer.” He repeated the word like it tasted bitter. “Right. Because I’m what? Dangerous? Volatile? The asshole hockey player who can’t be trusted with something this important?”

“Dominic…”

“No, I get it.” He ran both hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “I’m the guy who lets everyone down when it matters most. Last night’s game is Exhibit A. My entire fucking career is Exhibit B through Z.”

This was spiraling faster than I could control. “This isn’t about your performance on the ice.”

“Isn’t it? Everything in my life comes back to that. My father made sure of it. Everything I do, everything I am, is all measured against his fucking legacy. And now this. A baby. With my skating coach. Do you have any idea what the media will do with this? What my father will say?”

“This has nothing to do with your father.” I took a step toward him, but he backed away. “We can figure this out. There’s time.”

“Time?” He looked at me like I was speaking another language. “There’s no time. There’s no fixing this. It’s just one more way I’ve managed to fuck things up.”

I recoiled. “Is that what this is to you? A fuck-up?”

His eyes widened, regret flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean—” He stopped, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I mean. I can’t think straight right now. I can’t...” His gaze darted around the room like he was looking for an escape route.

“You can’t what?”

The raw vulnerability in his eyes caught me off guard. “Do you have any idea what’s happening right now? I’m in the worst slump of my career. The media’s all over me. My father calls after every game to tell me everything I did wrong. The team’s counting on me to turn this around, and I’m...” His voice cracked. “I’m failing. At everything.”

“You’re not failing.”

“And now this.” He gestured vaguely toward my stomach. “A baby? Are you kidding me? I can barely take care of myself right now. I’m a mess. I’m...” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “My father is going to lose his mind.”

“No one needs to know right away,” I said softly. “We can take some time to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?” His laugh had an edge of hysteria. “How to co-parent with someone I hardly know? How to explain to the world that I knocked up my skating coach? Yeah, that’ll go over great with the family-friendly sponsors. My entire life is on display, Nora. Every mistake, every failure, all of it gets picked apart in public. And this? This would be the pinnacle of my screw-ups.”

I flinched at his crude description. “You’re in a much better situation than I’m in. I could lose my whole career over this.”

“I can’t do this right now.” He backed toward the door. “I can’t. Not now. I’m sorry.”

And then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click that somehow hurt worse than if he’d slammed it.

I sank into my chair, the silence of my office pressing in around me. My hand reached for my phone automatically, Carter’s name hovering under my thumb. He’d want to know how it went. He’d probably come over with dinner and make me feel better.

But I set the phone down again. For this moment, I needed to sit with this feeling; this devastating loneliness of having watched someone walk away from me.

I’d known this wouldn’t go well. I’d prepared myself for anger, for blame, for negotiation. But somehow, Dominic’s retreat into himself left me feeling hollowed out.

The baby would be fine. I would be fine. I had Carter’s support, my job for now, my friends, and my family. But as I stared at the closed door, I couldn’t shake the image of Dominic’s face—lost, overwhelmed, and so terribly vulnerable—or the sinking feeling that I’d triggered the beginning of something much more complicated than I’d anticipated.