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sixteen

RHETT

A cough jerks Caroline forward—sharp, sudden. She nearly chokes on the water she’s drinking, and I glance her way, instinct tugging at me to reach for her. But she recovers on her own, sputtering, then laughing like she’s waiting for someone to crack a grin and tell her this is all a joke.

No one does.

Bryan stares at the table like he’s disassociating. Bear sits silent beside him, his jaw locked so tight I can see the muscles twitching. And Linda—God, Linda—just sits there like she’s presenting next quarter’s projections.

“You’re kidding, right?” Caroline says, her voice tight, pitched high with disbelief.

The silence that follows swells so thick I can barely breathe through it.

She tries to meet her dad’s eyes, but he looks away. Looks at me instead.

That’s when I feel it—the full weight of this crashing down on me. I haven’t really looked at anyone since Linda said the words. Just stared straight ahead, like if I stayed perfectly still, it would all disappear.

But it hasn’t. It won’t.

I don’t know how long the silence stretches before Bryan finally speaks.

“I know this must be a little shocking to take in,” he says, his voice carefully neutral, “but please understand that we wouldn’t even be suggesting this if we didn’t think it was the best possible option for everyone involved.

And trust that we’ve thoroughly thought this entire plan through.

It’s not nearly as intense as it sounds?—”

“I’m sorry, Bryan,” Caroline cuts in. Her tone is sharp, her spine straight as steel. “I promise I want more than anyone here for this entire situation to be erased, but spending the rest of my life with someone as the solution is pretty much the definition of intense in my book.”

“Not the rest of your life,” Linda chimes in smoothly. “We’ve determined three to five years should do the trick just fine.”

“Oh, is that all?” Caroline deadpans.

The tension in the room coils back, sharp as ever. My stomach twists. I don’t know if I’m more nauseous from the proposal or from the way her voice is shaking.

“You seriously want me to marry Rhett Sutton?” she breathes, disbelief thin and stretched across every word.

I glance toward her instinctively, even though I know I shouldn’t. Linda folds her hands neatly on the table. “We don’t want you to, but?—”

“Do you not understand?” Caroline snaps. “This will be the end of me.”

Her voice cuts through me like a blade.

“I can assure you that isn’t the case,” Linda replies, still calm.

Caroline opens her mouth, but Linda lifts a hand.

“Please, just stick with me for a minute. ”

Caroline clamps her lips shut. From the corner of my eye, I see her jaw working—literally biting her tongue.

“If the public were to find out you two aren’t having an affair—but are actually in a committed, legally binding relationship—Rhett now transforms from a womanizer into a family man.

And with the woman he’s tied himself to being the daughter of his head coach, it instantly boosts the perception of his loyalty to the Texas Storm tenfold. ”

That one lands hard. I’m so used to hearing about my reputation that I almost forget how much damage it’s done until someone like Linda throws it back in my face.

She keeps going.

“It also changes the current narrative around Bear. Right now, social media is blowing up with claims that Rhett is making your father look like a fool by secretly bedding his daughter after being entrusted as team captain.”

I hear Bear let out a breath like he’s been punched, his forehead dropping into his hand.

And I pretty much wish the earth would open and swallow me whole.

“But with this new information,” Linda continues, “Bear’s decision suddenly becomes much more understandable.

Sure, there will still be claims of nepotism, but we can easily counter those by arguing that Bear knows the character of his son-in-law, and if he can trust him to take care of his daughter, he can trust him to lead his team. ”

She pauses, then softens her voice, like she’s about to deliver a pitch.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking: What’s in this for you?”

Caroline says nothing. Her face is stone.

“Imagine it—” Linda begins, her tone gentle, “you: the daughter of an NHL coach and the wife of a team captain. That’s a story.

Caroline Barrett—true hockey woman, born and raised.

Loved it so much she chose it as her career and married it for life.

It will make headlines on every sports platform and pop culture forum. ”

“People will be intrigued by you. Everyone will love you. Your social media following will blow up. You’ll be an inspiration for women in sports.

Networks will want your face. Your career in broadcasting will create itself.

You’ll be a shoo-in for a commentator role before you know it.

This isn’t the end of you. It’s only your beginning?—”

“Let me stop you right there,” Caroline says quietly but firmly. She straightens and looks Linda dead in the eye. And then she lets it fly.

She doesn’t yell. She doesn’t cry. But every word hits like a wrecking ball.

“You said it yourself. Support for women in sports broadcasting is rare. I’m already set up to fail just for being a woman. And despite the fact that I’ve earned every accolade, every opportunity, I still face backlash just for having an NHL coach as a dad.”

She swallows, her voice steady but sharp.

“I’ve fought every day to prove myself. I’ve worked harder than any classmate, crushed every opportunity, given up more nights and weekends than I can count to review games and study stats.

And still, people think I don’t deserve even this rinkside reporter position.

Imagine what they’d say if I actually became a full-time commentator on a major network. ”

She shakes her head.

“And now you want to add this? Announce to the world that I’m involved with the most alluring and wayward player on the team that took a chance on hiring me? Play into every tired, belittling stereotype about women in sports? Shatter the reputation I’ve spent years building ?

“You say people will be intrigued. Sure. But they won’t be invested. And maybe they’ll love me—but they won’t respect me.

“My beginning in this industry happened when I was three years old, sitting in the stands learning this game. It’s been a long journey since then. And yes, one day I will be a commentator. But not because of who I’m dating. Because I deserve it.”

Her voice cracks. She resets herself instantly, squaring her shoulders.

“So no, thank you. I don’t want to imagine it. Because it sounds like a nightmare. And I’m far too focused on my dreams to waste energy playing any part in that.”

The room is silent.

Linda stares at her for a long moment, then—without looking away—she shifts her focus to me.

“And what do you think, Rhett?”

Caroline spins toward me. It’s the first time she’s actually looked at me in what feels like forever.

I can’t hold her gaze.

“I…” My throat dries up. “I can’t marry her.”

It’s all I can say. It’s the truth.

I make the mistake of looking at her. Her eyes are burning—not with rage. With something worse.

We stare at each other. Neither of us moves. We both look like we want to throw the white flag, sprint in opposite directions, but there’s nowhere to go. This is it.

Caroline tears her gaze away first. “Okay then,” she says, pushing back from the table. “So now what? How do we make them forget this ever happened?”

“I’m afraid,” Bryan says, “this isn’t a story that’s just going to be forgotten. It will be brought up every time you and Rhett are on screen together, which we can’t avoid.”

She crosses her arms. “So what are you saying?”

Bryan exhales, folding his hands .

“He’s saying,” Amy from HR speaks for the first time, “that if you and Rhett do not accept this proposal… we’re going to have to make other arrangements for you.”

Caroline lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “I thought you said you couldn’t fire me.”

“We wouldn’t fire you,” Amy says. “We’d… transfer you. Until this blows over.”

“Transfer me? What does that mean?”

“The Storm’s broadcasts are managed by a parent company within the regional sports network?—”

“Central Texas Sports,” I cut in. “I know.”

“Right,” Amy nods. “We have options?—”

“The Storm is the only hockey affiliate,” I say.

“Yes… that’s true.”

Caroline’s head pulls back. “You’d move me to cover a different sport?”

Amy purses her lips. “Well?—”

“Yes,” Linda cuts in. “That’s exactly what we’d do. It separates you from Rhett. It keeps the Storm brand intact. We’d reposition you under another sport—looks like a positive move publicly. Meanwhile, we’d work with Rhett on media training.”

Caroline exhales sharply. “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying my options are to marry Rhett Sutton or tank my career by narrating free throw contests and minor league baseball trivia for the next three years until you determine that the public no longer remembers or cares who may have been between my legs? ”

“ Caroline ,” Bear groans. “Jesus Christ.”

“Am I wrong, Dad?” she fires back.

“No, you’re not,” he admits. “But it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.”

“You’re telling me?— ”

“But, unfortunately, consequences arise from the actions that put us in compromising situations.”

She recoils. “Dad…” Her voice cracks. “ Nothing happened?—”

“Well—like everyone here has been over, Caroline—it doesn’t matter. The fact is that you were with him. And everyone knows.”

Her lip trembles. She stares at him, hurt written all over her face.

I’ve never hated myself more.

Linda clears her throat. “To answer your question bluntly, yes. Those are your options.”

Caroline nods slowly, her mind clearly racing.

I do nothing.

“I’m going to need time to think,” she whispers.

“Of course,” Linda says.

She gathers her things. I still do nothing.

Then Linda adds, “You can have until midnight.”

We both freeze.

“Until… midnight?” Caroline asks. “Tonight?”

“That’s nearly a week in PR time,” Linda says. “We need to move fast.”

Caroline’s eyes glaze. She doesn’t speak.

And I still do nothing.

Not until she’s out of her chair and bolting down the hallway.

Then I can’t move fast enough.

“Cub! Please, hold on?—”

She whips around the second my hand touches her shoulder.

“Do not touch me,” she snaps, her voice cracking as the tears burst free.

“I’m sorry,” I say, hands up. “I just think we need to talk?—”

“Oh, you’re suddenly capable of speaking again?”

I flinch. “I’m sorry. I just froze.”

A tear slips down her cheek. She wipes it away before it even falls. “What a luxury to have that option.”

“Hey,” I say gently, following her. “Don’t you want to discuss this?”

“There’s no need.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no need to discuss anything with you because this only concerns me now. That was abundantly clear in there.”

“Not by me, it wasn’t.” I reach for her arm. She looks down. I let go. “Cub, I’m not leaving you alone in this.”

“Well, you might as well. I’ll be all alone soon enough, probably grinning through gritted teeth while asking some freshman point guard with three chin hairs and a 2.0 GPA how he ‘digs deep’ in the fourth quarter.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You heard them! That’s what’s left for me.”

“Why is that the only option?”

“Oh, sorry, you’re right. Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to get placed with a baseball team. Then I have the chance to die of boredom within the first week?—”

“No, I mean… why do you have to go at all?”

She laughs, bitter. “What part of that meeting didn’t you understand? We screwed up. There are only two solutions. And you said you don’t want to marry me, so?—”

“I never said that.”

She blinks. “But you?—”

“Baby Bear, it’s gonna be okay. Let’s just talk?—”

“No, Rhett. None of this is okay.” She swallows. “I can’t even look at you right now. You’ll have to get your amusement elsewhere.”

“Cub—”

“Rhett, my future as I know it is fucked. What would you know about that? ”

Her words hit deep.

And I almost tell her.

More than you’d think.

But then the hallway echoes with movement. Doors opening. She hears it too. Her shoulders tense.

She looks at me—something flickering in her eyes I’ve never seen before: fear.

“I’ve gotta go,” she says.

And this time, I let her.