If You Love Me: Chapter 39

I drive home on autopilot. Aurora and Hollis took the girls to school, so the condo is already empty when I let myself in.

Everything is the same but different. I drop onto the couch. I need to call my dad. He’ll see that I’m not behind the bench tonight and have questions. I hate how much I don’t want to disappoint him. I pull up his contact and dial before I lose my nerve.

“Hey, Lexi, this is a surprise. Shouldn’t you be on the ice now?” Dad says in greeting. The clicking of fingers on a keyboard comes through the phone.

“Uh, yeah, but uh…things are a bit complicated.” Understatement of the year.

The clicking stops. “Is everything okay?”

“Um… Well, I have some news, and I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.” My entire life I’ve sought his approval. If I could make him proud enough, he’d magically turn into the dad who would show up for me in ways that aren’t financial. But that’s an impossible ask, and I need to make peace with it, starting here.

“Are you and your sisters okay?”

“Fee and Callie are fine. I’m…I got married,” I blurt.

Silence follows. Long and heavy. “Did I hear that right? You’re…married?”

“Yes.” I explain what happened—although I gloss over what happened three years ago and focus mostly on joining the team, spending all this time with Roman, and my colleague going to management, which led us to yesterday.

“You want to be married to Roman, though?” Dad clarifies.

“I’m in love with him. Obviously, it would’ve been better if we could’ve waited until he was no longer with the team, but this seemed like the best way to protect ourselves and my career.” Although, at this point, I’ll accept whatever the consequences are. “We’ll have a ceremony in the summer with friends and family. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before it happened.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “It’s okay, Lexi. I wish I could’ve been there with you. I wish you felt you could have come to me first.” He clears his throat. “But if you’re in love and this was the plan regardless, then I’m glad you took action to protect both of you. How does this impact your role as assistant coach.”

“I’m on leave while they perform an internal review, and I’m not sure what will happen. We’ve gone against the team’s no-fraternization policy. It’s made that much more serious because I’m a coach and in a position of authority. And I’m a woman.”

“Your gender should have absolutely no bearing on this. But since you’ve made history as an assistant coach in your specific industry, you’ll be under a microscope.” He makes an irritated sound. “Aren’t there several players on that team who are in relationships with other members of the office staff?”

“The team lawyer is married to a player, but they were married before she came on board. And two of the PR reps are also in relationships with players,” I explain.

“Didn’t one of the players propose on national TV? Dallas Bright? I doubt the paperwork had already been filed when that happened,” Dad muses.

“I’m not sure how that all rolled out.” But Shilpa and Hemi are best friends.

“Still, there are examples of players dating staff over the past three years that have been overlooked. Roman is at the end of his career. By June, he’ll no longer be a member of the team and all of this will be moot.”

“But it’s not moot now.” Being incomeless for the remainder of the season is another wrench. I don’t want Roman to be my keeper, as well as my husband.

“Do you have your contract available? And the no-fraternization policy? I’d like to have a look at them.”

“Sure. One of Roman’s friends looked them over, but I’ll email that to you now.”

“I would have done that for you. Give me an hour. I’ll give it a quick once-over and check for any loopholes.”

“Are you sure you have time?” I wish it didn’t take my life falling apart for him to step up, but I need his help.

“You’re my daughter, Lexi. Of course I have time for you. I’ll call back as soon as I’ve been through these documents.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Once we hang up, I call Dred, who messaged this morning to check in.

“I’m coming over,” she says after I explain what happened. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“I’m sure you have things to do besides watch me have an emotional breakdown.” I dab at my eyes.

“Roman is at practice for the next few hours. The last thing you need is to be alone with your worries. I’m on my way.” I hear the elevator ding.

“Thank you for being my friend.” I hate being emotional, but I’m spinning.

“You don’t have to hold it together, and you don’t have to do it all on your own. I’ll be there soon.”

As I end the call, an alert from my bank pops up. I log into my account to find my dad has sent me ten thousand dollars, and promptly burst into tears. This is how he shows he cares.

I allow myself five minutes to break down before I splash cold water on my face. This isn’t how I envisioned the day after my wedding. I have no idea how long I’ll be on leave. The coming weeks won’t be easy. Not for me, not for Roman, and definitely not for the girls.

But I can’t undo any of this. And frankly, I don’t want to. I wouldn’t trade his love for the world. Roman has been instrumental in making this season bearable in so many ways.

Dred shows up with ice cream and hugs. I’m grateful for her presence, even if it’s just to keep me company. We’ve just settled in the living room when my dad calls back.

I put him on speaker and let him know Dred is with me and that she knows everything. “You didn’t need to give me money,” I tell him.

“I’m your father. I’m allowed to give you money if I feel like it. Consider it a wedding gift, if you need to, but you’re under enough stress as it is. You don’t need to be worried about whether you can pay the bills.”

“I just married a millionaire hockey player.” And Donnie believes it was my nefarious plan from the start. How many other people will believe the same?

“And you hate being dependent on other people emotionally and financially,” he counters. “So as your dad, I’m providing you with your own cushion. If you don’t need it, that’s fine. You can put it in savings for your sisters. Are you done arguing over money?”

Dred squeezes my hand. She understands the complexities of my relationship with my dad.

“I guess I don’t have much of an option, do I?” And I’m probably only doing it because I’m terrified of what he’s about to tell me.

“Nope. You don’t. And I mean that with love. Anyway, I have some fantastic news for you,” he says.

“I could use some of that.”

“There is nothing in your contract that says you can’t be married to a player.”

“But I can’t date a player,” I confirm.

“That’s correct. You can’t date a player—not without going through the proper channels and filing the appropriate paperwork. But if you’re married to a player, none of that paperwork is required. All you need is a marriage certificate and a written agreement between you and the administrative team that when a conflict of interest arises, another member of your team will step in and mediate.”

That’s a comfort, but I hope none of Donnie’s allegations become the new reason I end up unemployed.