Page 30 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

His jaw clenches. Then, instead of answering, he exhales sharply, steps forward, and pulls me into his arms.

"Not now," he mutters against my hair, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Come on, let’s go inside."

I hesitate.

But then I nod.

****

The moment came faster than I expected. Keith, after making his welcome-back speech, grins and gestures toward Blake. "And now, my buddy here wants to say something."

My pulse spikes.

This is it.

Blake clears his throat. "Yeah, uh… first off, Keith, it’s good to have you back, man. But, you know, it’s payback time." His lips quirk into a smirk. "Remember when you introduced your girlfriend at my birthday party? Well, I figured it’s only fair I do the same at your welcome home party."

People chuckle.

My heart pounds.

This is it.

Blake looks at me.

This is it.

He opens his mouth.

"So, everyone…, and Keith…"

I hold my breath.

"My girlfriend…!" He pauses. The room is silent. My palms are damp.

Then…

"Olivia."

What?

The world tilts.

“What?” Keith and I say it at the same time.

No.

No.

I watch in horrified disbelief as Olivia steps forward with a satisfied smile. She walks to him. Wraps her arms around him. And Blake…

Blake places his hands on her waist.

A slow, crushing weight presses down on my chest.

No.

No, this is not how it’s supposed to go.

There has to be an explanation. Some kind of cruel joke. Some mistake.

But it isn’t.

Because Blake is standing there, with her, and he isn’t stopping this.

Something cracks inside me.

The pain is instant, like a knife to the chest, cutting deep, but I refuse to let the tears fall. I feel…, hollow. Like I just stepped off a ledge and haven’t hit the ground yet.

I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m standing in front of them, looking up at Blake, my pulse a dull roar in my ears.

His eyes flick to mine.

I search them, desperately, for something. An answer. A reason. A lie.

But all I see is finality.

I swallow the lump in my throat. Force my lips to curve - not into a smile, but something close enough.

“Congratulations,” I say, my voice eerily calm. “Good for you.”

A pause.

A breath.

“I hope you’re happy.”

Then I turn around and walk away.

Not run.

Not cry.

Not yet.

I hold it in.

I make it out of the house, down the street, and into the nearby park before my legs give out.

And then…

I break.

I sob like my heart has been ripped from my chest.

Because maybe it has.

The only question in my head and heart right now is WHY.

*** (Last week) ***

“You want to know why I made that choice?” Blake says, his voice low and strained.

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. "A week before Keith’s return, Olivia came to see me." His jaw tightens. "She told me she’s pregnant."

The words hit like a slow, sinking weight in my stomach.

Pregnant.

I grip my arms tightly over my chest, holding myself together as his words settle like stones in my stomach.

“She said I’m the father.”

A dull ringing starts in my ears.

“I mean, there was no way that was possible,” he continues. “I haven’t been in contact with her ever since we broke up. Told her she had to be lying, or mistaken, or - I don’t know, trying to trap me into something. But she just said we were intimate, I just don’t remember.”

“I laughed. Laughed, Whit. Because it was ridiculous. I knew I hadn’t touched her.

I would’ve remembered something like that.

” He exhales, running a hand down his face.

“But then, she said it happened the night of James’ party.

That I was too drunk to know what was going on.

I told her she was insane. I remember that night - or at least, I thought I did.

I remember getting wasted, sure, but I also remember waking up alone in one of the guest rooms. I figured I just crashed there. ”

A hollow laugh escapes him. “Guess I was wrong. Because she had a video. It wasn’t long.

Just a few seconds. Enough to show that I was in that room.

With her. And that I wasn’t exactly pushing her away.

Anyway, to confirm better, we went to the hospital and the doctor said the conception lined up with that night. ”

"She told me she wasn’t getting rid of the baby. And that she wouldn’t go through the pregnancy alone." He looks at me again, his expression wrecked. "She said since I was single, introducing her as my girlfriend just made sense."

A lump forms in my throat. "And you just…, went along with it?"

He sighs, rubbing his face. "I wanted to refuse, believe me, I did, -but then I thought about the kid." His voice cracks slightly. "Would they grow up knowing their father was there for them? Would they feel abandoned?"

I stare at him, my mind spinning.

"What if the kid isn’t yours?" My voice is barely above a whisper. "What would you have done then?"

Blake exhales shakily. "I considered that. I really did. I thought about waiting until the baby was born to confirm. But…?" He trails off, shaking his head. "I wanted to believe the kid was mine. Something told me it was mine."

Silence.

"And Olivia….," he continues, voice rough, "That day you saw us arguing? She told me if I didn’t claim her that night, she’d announce the pregnancy herself. In front of everyone. So, there. That’s why I did it."

But all I can think is ….

What about me?

*** (Present) ***

By the time I open my eyes, the sky outside my window is dark. I blink at the red numbers on my bedside clock. 7:44 PM.

I’ve been in my room for almost three hours.

I exhale deeply, pressing my fingers to my temples.

My thoughts have been on an endless loop - replaying every word, every moment, every feeling.

What I know, what I feel, what I wish I didn’t feel.

The anger, the hurt, the confusion. But also, the part of me that still aches for him, that still wants to believe in us.

Sighing, I get up and head into the bathroom, letting the hot water wash away some of the tension clinging to my skin.

I feel a whole lot better and I know what to do. And it has to be done tonight.

By the time I’m dressed and making my way downstairs, I hear the sound of excited voices from the living room.

Then…

“Daddy!”

“Daddy’s back!”

“Blake!”

I stop at the bottom of the stairs, watching as he scoops them both up in his arms, laughing as they cling to him. Around them, voices overlap - congratulations, cheers, pats on the back. The Avalanche team has secured their third win.

I make my way into the living room and Blake’s eyes meet mine over the heads of the kids.

“Hey, Whitney.” His voice is steady.

I force a small smile. “Hi, Blake. How are you? Congratulations on the win.”

“I’m good, and thanks.”

For a few seconds, none of us says anything, just stares at each other.

Mia tugs at his shirt. “Can we go home now, Daddy?”

Blake brushes a hand over her curls. “Yes, sweetheart.”

I clear my throat. “Um…, Mia sweetie, we’ll leave in a bit. I want to talk to your dad first. Is that okay?”

Mia blinks up at me, considering. Then she nods. “Okay,” and she scrambles down and runs to where Nico is, leaning against Keith as he plays, well, tries to play video games.

Blake’s gaze flickers with something unreadable as I nod in the direction of the backyard. Stepping outside, the night air is crisp against my skin, and I immediately head for the swings. Lowering myself onto one, I push off lightly, the soft creak of the chains filling the quiet.

“Come on, sit,” I say to Blake who’s standing in front of me, watching me. I start pushing myself gently with my feet. I gesture towards the swing again and for him to sit. With a sigh, he lowers himself to the other one, and like in the past, we swing in a steady synchronized rhythm.

After a while, we bring the swing to a light back and forth. Neither of us speaks right away.

The quiet stretches between us, filled only by the sound of distant laughter from inside, and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

Then, finally…

“All right…,” I exhale, gripping the swing’s chains tighter. “You’ve got your second chance.”

The swing beside me stills.

“What?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

I look straight ahead. “I’ll give you a second chance.”

A sharp breath from him. “Whitney…”

I grip the chains tighter, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I’ll give you a second chance.” I swallow hard. “Because…, because as much as I want to, I can’t fight my feelings for you. I’ve tried. And I am still hurt, still upset about what happened, but at least now…, I understand why.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, like he’s afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

“I don’t know how to just switch off what I feel for you, Blake,” I continue, my voice softer now. “Believe me, I’ve wanted to. I’ve told myself a hundred times that I should walk away, that it would be easier. But the truth is…,” I shake my head. “The truth is, I still love you.”

His hands tighten around the chains. “Whitney…”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” I add quickly. “And I’m not saying I’ll forget everything overnight. But I’m willing to try. To see if we can find our way back to what we had. If you want that too.”

The next second, he’s in front of me, pulling me up, his hands cradling my face. “I want that more than anything.”

“Oh God, thank you so much. Thank you so much, shortcake.”

“I…, I miss hearing that name,” I say, tears pooling in my eyes. “I miss you calling me shortcake.”

“And I’ll never stop.” His eyes search mine, something raw and desperate in them. “I swear, Whitney, I won’t mess this up.” His voice is thick with emotion. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll spend every day proving that I…”

I don’t let him finish.

I lean forward, capturing his lips with mine.

It starts slow. But then his hands cup my face, and he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine. “Again, I promise not to mess this up. I swear to you, shortcake. Every day, every single day, I’ll make it up to you.”

I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the front of his shirt. “Okay. But let’s keep it a secret for now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I nod against him, swallowing hard.

And just like that, the rest of the world fades away.

The past. The pain. The what ifs.

For this moment, it’s just us.