Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(109)

“But is that the right reason to turn down an offer?” My dad shakes his head. “And I’m not telling you what you should or shouldn’t do. I’m just asking questions, so I understand where you’re coming from.”

“I don’t want to say there’s no offer out there I would entertain, but playing professionally isn’t where my heart is. When I look at my future, I don’t see me on the ice for a decade and then coaching pro, or sportscasting, or any of those things. Maybe I’m a little bit more like Aunt Lily? I know she didn’t go to the Olympics because of financial constraints, but she didn’t let that define her. She’s an amazing teacher, and I think I could be good at that. I’d rather help other people get there. I know myself, and I know how hard that life is on a family. I don’t want to be one of those guys with a semi-decent career who’s also been divorced three times because all of my relationships suffer.”

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“This year has been eye-opening for me in a lot of ways. And I’ve loved playing for the college team. But it’s not so much because of the sport as it is because it connects me to you and to Kody. Even if by some fluke I got traded and we did wind up together, it’s unlikely we’d play on the same line. He’s on another level.”

“I keep wanting to say things like, you can get there too, but I don’t think that’s what you want to hear.”

I’ve only ever seen my dad look this helpless once before, and it shreds me in ways I don’t expect. But backtracking isn’t going to change how I feel about this.

“I might be able to get there,” I agree. “But I won’t have a life, and I won’t be happy trying to make it happen.”

Dad is silent for a few very long, very terrifying seconds. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me this sooner.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I realized it until recently. I feel like I’ve let you down a lot, and I didn’t want to do that again, especially with this.”

“You’ve never let me down.”

I drop my head, fighting with the words, but needing to get them out all the same. I need to make peace not just with myself, but with him as well. I see it all now, the way it links together, how the past keeps coming up because I haven’t ever dealt with it the way I need to. “I feel like I did—not so much with hockey, but with Lavender.”

He moves from the edge of the tub and drops down, crouching in front of me. “Look at me, Maverick.”

I lift my gaze and find him on the edge of emotion. I feel his anguish like fresh wounds.

“Are you talking about the carnival?”

“That’s one instance, yeah.” I swallow bile, uncertain if there’s anything left to purge apart from words and what remains of the guilt I’m trying to let go of.

“And the time she got locked in the closet?” His voice is soft and unsteady.

I nod once, not trusting my voice.

He closes his eyes. “Fuck.”

When they open, they’re swimming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad cry. I’ve seen him get angry, lose his shit, but the only time I’ve seen him this kind of emotional is when he talked about the accident that nearly ended his career. And the night Lavender went missing. “Are you referring to what happened in my office after? When I lost it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry, son. I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice breaks, and he turns his head, like he’s trying to keep it together. “I didn’t realize you were still holding onto that after all these years. Not like this. Your mom and I made a mistake—one we can’t ever take back. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just a kid. You weren’t responsible for any of it, and you weren’t responsible for what happened when Lavender got locked in the closet either. There were adults in the house who were supposed to be paying attention. And I knew that lock was prone to jamming. I’d meant to fix it the week before, but I forgot. Your mom had dresses in there, and she’d been going through the closet that afternoon and forgot to close the door and lock it.” He pauses, taking a breath. “I know I lost it on you that night, and I shouldn’t have. I couldn’t get my emotions under control, and it wasn’t fair.”

“I told you it was my fault. It made sense that you’d be upset with me,” I tell him, not wanting to shift that burden off my shoulders and onto his. I’d been the seeker. I should have found Lavender sooner. And he’d gone off in a way that had terrified me. But I felt like I’d deserved it, because for the second time, my selfishness was the reason something bad had happened to her. Rook had eventually come in and told me to go upstairs.

I perceived it as anger back then, but when I think about it now, through an adult lens, I realize he was terrified, that it triggered the memory of when we’d lost Lavender.

He shakes his head. “You were kids. It was an accident. I should never have made you feel like it was yours to own. It wasn’t your fault. If I’d known you were still dealing with this . . .” He looks away, choking on emotion. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it.” He pulls me into a bone-crushing hug—awkward since we’re both still on the floor. “You have always been your sister’s protector and her biggest advocate. Always. You put everyone ahead of yourself.” He pulls back, eyes red-rimmed. “I’m sorry I failed you.”