Page 24 of One Good Puck (Denver Bashers #5)

Gavin

A bby’s expression is warm as she looks up at me. “It was sweet watching you skate with Emma. Thank you for teaching her.”

“I was happy to,” I say. “I like spending time with her and you.”

Her mouth curves up in the most beautiful smile. “We like spending time with you, too.”

She clears her throat and swipes a chunk of blonde hair behind her ear, then gazes around the crowded rink. “It’s great to see all these families here. The Bashers organization is really family-focused. I think that’s so great.”

“We try to be. Most of the guys on the team, plus the staff, all have families. Working for a professional hockey team isn’t easy,” I say. “You’re away from your family a lot. It’s definitely hard. So we try to put on events like this to show our support.”

Her smile turns sad as she nods.

“This is the kind of stuff I dreamed about doing with Emma when I was pregnant with her.” She’s quiet for a long second. “Her dad said he couldn’t wait to take her ice skating when she was old enough.”

She stares ahead, a pained look on her face. My chest aches at the sadness in her eyes.

She sighs. “He talked about all these things he was so excited to do with her. But when she was finally here, he left. Crazy, huh?”

I shake my head. “I can’t imagine ever doing something like that.”

She offers a small, sad smile. “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re a wonderful dad, Gavin. I really thought Levi would be too, but I was wrong.”

“Did he leave you a long time ago?” I hope she’s not upset that I’m asking. I don’t mean to pry, but I just can’t understand how a man could abandon his family.

She shakes her head. “He stuck around until Emma was about six months old.”

Anger swoops through me. “What happened?”

“Honestly? I don’t think he realized how hard being a parent would be, as crazy as that sounds.

Looking back, I realize now he was one of those guys who loved the idea of being a dad.

He loved thinking about all the fun things you do with your kids—playing together, going to the park, teaching them games.

But the reality of being a parent, the hard stuff—sleep deprivation, endless crying and diaper changing, round-the-clock feedings, having to watch them all the time—I don’t think he was prepared for all that. ”

“That’s ridiculous,” I mutter. “Of course parenthood is harder than it seems. Everyone knows that.”

“Not Levi.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “I really should have known. He never really took anything seriously. He was all about having a good time. I mean, he was a bartender.” She shakes her head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that bartenders can’t be good parents.

Of course they can. It’s just that he was all about partying and drinking. ”

“It’s okay, I get it.” I gently grab her hand and lead her around a slow-moving couple on the ice, then let go. “How did you two meet, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“During a bar crawl for my co-worker’s bachelorette party. He was handsome and charming and funny and very smooth. He wouldn’t let me pay for any drinks that night. I was twenty-three and easily smitten.”

“We’ve all been there,” I say.

“We weren’t even together a year when I found out I was pregnant,” she says.

“I was happy, but I was also really, really scared. But he reassured me that it would all be okay. He promised to be there for me and be a good dad to our baby. And he was honestly great during my pregnancy. He went to almost all my OB appointments. He was so supportive during my labor. He even cried when Emma was born.”

She’s quiet again as she skates beside me.

“But then it all changed when we brought her home,” she says.

“He never felt comfortable holding her or changing her diaper. He’d get so angry when she’d cry.

He started working more, and at first, I thought it was a good thing.

I thought he was doing it to support us.

But he started coming home later and later.

I got upset that he wasn’t spending much time with us.

That led to us fighting all the time. He’d go and stay with his friends for a week, leaving me alone with Emma.

And when I confronted him about it, he finally admitted being a dad was too hard and he couldn’t do it anymore.

So he left. He’s never tried to reach out or apologize or check on Emma.

He’s just off living his life. Last I heard, he moved to Phoenix with a couple of his friends. ”

That anger inside of me turns to full-on rage. What kind of a man abandons his family for such a shitty reason?

I shake my head and swallow back, making sure that I don’t sound as pissed off as I feel. “I’m so sorry, Abby.”

She shakes her head. “I just can’t understand how anyone could not care about their own kid. There’s nothing in the world that would make me leave Emma.”

A sick feeling lands in my gut. “I don’t get it either. I feel the same way about Sophie.”

She looks down at her skates. “Sometimes I feel so bad for Emma. That I wasn’t able to give her the family she deserves.”

“What do you mean? Abby, you’re an amazing mother.”

She flashes a hesitant smile, like she doesn’t believe me.

“Sometimes I don’t feel like enough. Sometimes I feel like I’m burning the candle at every end, and I’m still falling short.

I feel bad that half the time when I’m with her, I’m tired from work, or I’m thinking about the endless list of things I have to do.

I’m not always fully present. It would be easier if I had a partner to share all that stress with.

Not that I wish I were still with Levi. I don’t.

I just think that it would be better if she had two parents who are always there for her instead of one. ”

A restless feeling zooms through me. I take her hand and pull her off to the side so we’re not in the way of the other skaters.

I look her in the eye. “You are enough, Abby. More than enough. I see the way your daughter looks at you. With complete trust and love. She adores you. She’s one of the most joyful, sharp, and well-adjusted kids I’ve ever seen.

And that’s because of you. That’s because you’ve made her feel safe and happy and secure.

You did that. No one else. I promise you, you are everything your daughter could ever want or need. ”

She blinks up at me, her hazel-green eyes wide. Intensity flickers in her gaze. “You really think that?”

“Without a doubt.”

Her eyes are misty as she smiles at me. “Thank you, Gavin. That was…the most wonderful thing anyone’s said to me.”

“It’s true, Abby. Don’t ever doubt yourself as a mom. You’re incredible.”