Chapter 10
I've been holding Lily for hours, and I still can't get enough of her. She’s so tiny, impossibly fragile in my rough, tattooed arms, with her dark hair and her curious green eyes trained on my face. Her little fingers wrap around my thumb, gripping with a surprising strength for something so small. It tugs at something deep inside me, an instinct I didn’t even know was there. I watch every little movement, trying to memorize it all. Her soft breathing, the way her lips pout as she starts to drift off, the faintest hint of a smile that comes and goes as she drifts off to sleep.
But reality presses in. I can’t stay here forever, no matter how much I want to. I glance over at Rachel, whose worry has transitioned to something softer, relief maybe? But that might not last once I leave this room. I know I have to go. Back to the team, back to the bus, back to the plane that will take me far away from this moment and back to my life across the country.
I shift Lily carefully in my arms, trying to stretch out these last few seconds. “I have to go,” I say softly, my voice thick with reluctance.
Rachel nods, her expression unreadable. “I know,” she murmurs, but I can see the uncertainty cloud her eyes.
I gently hand Lily back to her, my heart twisting, and I feel like I’m leaving a part of myself behind now. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say, and there’s a seriousness in my tone I hope she understands. “I mean it, Rachel. I’m serious about being in Lily’s life. I’m not going to disappear.”
She nods again, but there’s still that guarded look in her eyes. “Okay,” she says quietly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I give Lily one last look, one last gentle brush of my finger across her cheek, before I run down to my room and pack my luggage with my mind still back with my daughter. I can’t believe I’m leaving right now, just when I’ve found out about her. But I have to.
A few painful hours later, the plane vibrates softly beneath me as I stare out the window, lost in my thoughts. The lights of the city below stretch out in a blur of golds and reds against the vast, dark desert as we descend into the Phoenix airport. My mind is too full of anger, betrayal, and hurt. I have a daughter, one I didn’t even know about. I should have been there for her first breath, her first smile, her first everything. Instead, I’ve been in the dark, missing out on every single moment.
But underneath all the immediate emotions, excitement is growing. Never in a million years did I ever expect to be a father, let alone be good at it, but holding Lily in my arms… it feels right. I want to be involved, to know her, be there for her. But how the hell do I do that? I’ve been playing hockey my whole life, living on the road, doing whatever I want, whenever I want. I have no idea how to be a father, how to navigate what that life looks like.
The fear starts to creep in about what kind of father I will be. Unfortunately, that makes me think back to my own father, the man whose absence is so large that I’m not even sure what it feels like to have a fatherly figure. My mom was the one there for me in every way. She was the provider, the protector, the nurturer in my life. And she is an amazing woman, but that doesn’t protect me entirely from the spot my father left behind. How it affected my life.
I’ve never thought about it before but it’s probably my father’s influence that led me to focus on my own life over everyone else's. That’s what he did, so why wouldn’t that feel normal for me? Not anymore, I know I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I vow to myself and eventually to Lily, never to repeat his mistakes. I’ll be a different—no, better, person. To be present, to be there for Lily in a way my father never was for me.
I glance around the plane, at my teammates dozing off, watching movies, joking quietly among themselves. I feel like I’m in a different world, like everything I knew about my life has been flipped upside down. Being Oren Samuels, defenseman for the Red Wolves isn’t my shining accomplishment anymore. There is more to my life now than there was two days ago. Being a father now… what an absolute mind fuck that is.
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat. I picture Lily’s tiny face, her big eyes looking up at me with such innocence. She was so quick to trust me, a complete stranger, but maybe she could feel our connection. That thought alone solidifies how important it is that I do this. No matter what happens or how hard it might be. Hell, I’ll go to hell and back to figure this out.
I take a deep breath, pushing away the fear, the doubt. I know this won’t be easy, and I have no idea what I’m doing, but why should that stop me? One thing for sure is—I’m not running away. Not from this. Not from her.
I step into my condo, letting the door click shut behind me, and immediately feel the silence pressing in. It’s too quiet. Usually, I love the quiet after a long trip. It’s my time to reset, realign. But tonight, it feels suffocating. I drop my bag in my bedroom and start pacing back and forth. I need to talk to someone, tell someone the truth about what happened. I glance at my phone sitting on the kitchen counter, and for a second, I think about calling my mom. She would give me useful advice on what the hell I’m supposed to do next.
But then I shake my head realizing I can’t do that and uphold my promise to Rachel. Plus, this is so complicated, deep down I’m not sure if I’m ready for the harsh reality my mom would provide. Telling the truth, saying it out loud, makes it more real. I’m not ready for that. Not yet. I’m not ready to explain how I’ve been living my life, putting myself in a situation where I could do this to someone. How I became such a fuckboy that someone felt that they were better off without me than telling me I was going to be a dad.
Having to explain to my mother that I’ve missed four months of my daughter's life might be worse. I’m not ready to deal with the questions, judgment, or worse, the sympathy. I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into an abyss I don’t know how to navigate. I don’t know how to be a dad. How do people prepare for this? I’ve never even thought about kids, not seriously. And now… now I have to figure it out and fast. With no one to talk to, and thoughts tumbling around my brain like a twister, I need to clear my head.
I drop down onto the couch, my eyes drifting toward the window overlooking the city, but I’m not really seeing anything. I retreat inward, trying to untangle the mess of thoughts running through my head. The truth? I’m terrified.
Terrified of what all of this means. Terrified of failing, of screwing it all up in ways I can’t even begin to imagine. Terrified that just like my own dad, I’ll be so wrapped up, too consumed by my own life. That one day Lily will need me, and I won’t be there. The thought sits like a stone in my gut. I don’t want that for Lily. I don’t want to be the kind of father too caught up in my own bullshit to be what she needs.
I know I don’t have all the answers, but I know one thing. I’m not going to walk away. I mutter to myself, my voice low, almost a whisper in the quiet room. “How do I even begin to make this right?” I have to be better. But what if better isn’t enough?