Chapter 28 Mel #2
“Hey, sweetie,” he said, pulling me into a hug that felt familiar.
“Hi, Dad.”
We started down the walking path that curved around the course, the trees casting dappled shadows across the gravel. For a while, we didn’t talk, we just walked, the silence companionable.
Then— “I miss the time you and I spent together when you worked from home… but with Mom, I always felt like I had to earn everything. Her approval, her affection. As if I only existed to be the version of me she wanted, and if I slipped, I wasn’t enough.”
Dad’s steps slowed. “Mel…”
“I never told you. I felt stuck, as if saying it out loud wouldn’t feel right.”
He stopped completely, turning to face me. “I’m sorry. I always knew she was hard on you, but you seemed to be holding your own. You’ve got such a strong character. I didn’t realize you felt pushed, that you were keeping the peace.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t know how to ask for help without feeling like I was betraying her. Then college happened. I was away from her, that helped.”
“And now she’s back home and you’re reliving your teen years.” His voice was low, eyes were glassy. He shook his head. “I can’t believe I missed that.”
“You were busy providing for us, you couldn’t have known unless I opened up.” I took his hand. “You’ve always been a great dad.”
We kept walking.
“I talked with Sean. He said if I decided to have a conversation with her, maybe I could bring someone who knows her. Not to speak for me, just as a witness.”
Dad nodded slowly. “Smart man.” Then his brow lifted. “Me?”
“You know all our history.”
He was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I'll do anything to help. Whatever you need, Sweetie.”
After a few steps, Dad asked. “So… did you spend the weekend at Sean’s?”
My face flushed instantly. I felt the heat crawl up my neck, my overactive blood vessels doing their thing. “Yeah.”
He smiled, gentle and knowing. “Do you love him?”
I took a breath. “I do.”
We kept walking, the path stretching ahead, quiet and sunlit.
That night, I lay on my bed with a heart so light it could’ve floated straight out the window.
Mom knew she’d lost ground, she hadn’t said a word when I got home.
I heard her upstairs, but she never came down.
It was just as well. There was no space for anything but the Cup now.
In a few hours, Monday morning would hit like a whistle at the start of overtime.
I’d be busy, Sean would be up to his neck, all of me was already leaning into the week ahead.
The arena buzzed with Cup-week energy—players sharper, staff tighter, every hallway humming like a live wire.
I spent the day rink-side, DevPad in hand, logging progress notes, updating nutrition and training departments, and fielding questions from media liaisons who were suddenly very interested in hydration stats and sleep cycles.
Maria had pulled me aside early that morning. “I know we’re short-staffed, but I want you rink-side this week until the Cup.”
I nodded, grateful. She had just given me a ticket to the live action.
Sean passed me twice during the day. Once near the locker room, once by the tunnel.
Both times, we exchanged a quiet “Hey,” and a nod.
No lingering glances, no stolen touches.
Just two professionals in the eye of the storm.
I knew it would be like this, the Cup was everything this week. And yet, his presence tugged at me.
By the time I sat in my car, my brain was fried. The sun looked like full daylight despite it being nearly 5 p.m.—classic late June. I leaned back, letting the seat cradle me, when my phone buzzed.
Sean: Hey Cutie, on your way home?
I smiled and typed back.
Me: Hi, yes. How about you? You looked busy out there.
Sean: I was, but finishing soon.
I stared at the message, my heart fluttered. I wanted to see him, more than anything. But I knew this week was a pressure cooker, and he probably needed to dive headfirst into strategy mode even after the rink.
A pinch of disappointment settled in my chest, but it was the kind that came with knowing someone was worth the wait.
Me: Okay leaving you to blow Florida away with your beautiful mind. 'Night \*flaming pinata emoji\*
Sean: \*laughing emoji\*
I grinned and pulled out of the lot.
The house was quiet when I got home. No movement upstairs, just me and the soft hum of the fridge. I kicked off my shoes and wandered into my room, restlessness settling in. I didn’t feel like going for a walk, pulling my old bike from the garage, or even reading a good book. I flopped onto my bed.
Fine. Packing, then maybe decluttering.
We were off to Florida on Thursday. I yawned open my suitcase and in no time it was ready. I was becoming an expert at packing for these trips.
With that done, I pulled the first box from under my bed and sat on the floor—old schoolbooks, sticker-covered planners, and notes from people I hadn’t thought about since sophomore year.
I flipped one over. It was from a girl named Tasha who used to sit behind me in math.
“You’re the reason I don’t fake being sick every Tuesday. ” I laughed.
These were the kind of things most people toss when they move out. But I’d grown up in this house, and my past was still here in cardboard boxes.
I glanced around my room, and suddenly it felt too small. Too much in the past. Sean’s words echoed: I wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day.
I’d wanted that too. Between the bike rides, the rink-side glances, him holding me through unraveling moments, and declaring his love to me… I couldn’t picture my life without him.
A life.
But then, like a flicker in the corner of my mind, Vince’s name would surface. How he’d left—even after we were engaged.
Sean wasn’t Vince, I was ready to move forward. I couldn’t wait for the Cup to be behind us. It might be time to start packing for more than Florida, maybe for a future that starts with a ring.
Then—
A roar outside, then quiet. My heart drummed. No freaking way.
I stood, walked to the front door and peeked outside.
Sean. On my driveway, on his bike, in full leather-jacket glory.
I laughed and jogged down the porch steps.
“What are you doing here?” I called out.
He grinned, helmet under one arm. “Taking you out for a ride.”
I blinked. “You’re in full Cup chase!”
“And someone once told me even coaches can pause once in a while. The Cup won’t vanish if I look away from the roster for thirty minutes.”
My heart swelled, my breath catching on the way out.
“I’m waiting,” he added, eyes twinkling.
I went back inside, a thrill running through me. The very bike I’d sworn off... Sometimes it’s not about the ride—it’s about his smirk and him waiting for you.
I threw on sneakers over my leggings, loosened my ponytail to fit under the helmet, pouch belt strapped with keys and phone, and headed back out.
He helped me buckle the strap, fingers brushing my jaw. Then, footsteps echoed behind us.
We turned, mom was walking up the drive, purse slung over her shoulder, expression unreadable.
“Hi Ruby,” Sean said. “Nice to see you again. A beautiful evening to be out, isn’t it?”
Meltdown? Nope. Mel stone statue in yoga pants.
I didn’t know what to feel. This was the first time I’d seen her since realizing she’d been harboring jealousy toward me. And here was Sean—my hot-to-burn boyfriend in a leather jacket—being effortlessly charming to the woman who’d spent years making me feel small.
I gazed at him, then at her. Closed up, she looked shocked. Another surprise—she didn’t know Sean owned this bad boy bike.
“Hi, yes,” she managed.
“We’re taking advantage of it too. Have a good rest of your evening,” Sean said, adjusting his own helmet strap.
We climbed onto the bike, I wrapped my arms around him and let the engine drown out everything else.
We rode through Folsom, my town, the wind warm against my cheeks, Sean’s leather jacket pressing against my boobs. He didn’t say much, and I didn’t mind, his presence was enough.
We stopped at a hotdog food truck squeezed between two buildings. He ordered two, loaded with mustard and onions, and handed me one with a grin.
“Best dinner date you’ve ever had?” he asked, biting into his.
“Top five,” I teased, mouth full. “But you’re climbing the ranks.”
He chuckled, and I melted a little more.
By the time he pulled into my driveway, the sky had deepened to velvet. He killed the engine, I unstrapped my helmet.
His smirk went crooked. “For someone who couldn’t stand my bike, you’re liking it more than me.”
I raised a brow. “Don’t be surprised if I start taking lessons.”
He laughed, the sound low and warm, and took my hand in his. “We can’t do this tomorrow… but make time for me Wednesday?”
My pulse skipped. “I’m not going anywhere.”