Chapter 37
~Daley~
Deacon offers to drive my car, but needing to focus on the road will help my thoughts from spinning too much out of control, so I take the wheel instead.
He folds himself into the passenger seat, pushing it back as far as it goes to try to fit his legs comfortably, but he can’t do much about the fact that this car clearly wasn’t designed for a man who’s nearly six and a half feet tall.
“Maybe we should take your car,” I suggest, grimacing at the way his head skims the car’s ceiling.
“Stop overthinking,” he instructs, giving me an easy smile that helps to calm a little of the bubbling nerves in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll survive. Let’s go.”
Traffic is light getting out of the city on a Sunday morning and soon, the long, straight highway stretches in front of us.
Staring at the horizon, River’s face is all I can see as I imagine all the ways he might react to the news I’m about to dump on him.
It’s not at all the way I wanted to tell him.
Ideally, I would have let him know I was dating first, getting him used to the idea in general before honing in on one specific person.
And that’s without taking into account the fact that the man in question is his teammate, someone he has to work closely with day in and day out.
What the hell was I thinking getting involved with Deacon in the first place?
And why can’t I bring myself to regret it?
“Talk to me, Mama,” Deacon encourages after several silent minutes go by. “What’s the worst-case scenario you’re imagining?”
I don’t have to think too hard about that. “Worst case? I guess that he hates me and never wants to see me again.”
Deacon looks down but not before I see him trying not to smile. “And how likely is that to happen?”
“Not very,” I admit, cracking a small smile of my own before it fades back into worry.
“He’s not the type to blow up about things.
He internalizes them, which is almost worse in the long run.
I have no idea what he thinks about his father, for instance.
He knows what happened, but he never wants to talk about it. ”
“He might feel that it’s not relevant to his life,” Deacon muses. “You, on the other hand, are very relevant to him.”
That’s also what I’m afraid of. “I’ve always been just his mom. Our relationship is all about him, as it should be for a parent and child.”
“But he’s not a child anymore,” Deacon points out.
“Not only is he legally an adult, he’s been living away from home with his junior team for a couple of years.
That helps to mature a kid. Everything I’ve seen and heard from him tells me that he loves and respects you. As a person, I mean, not just his mom.”
God, I hope he’s right. River is mature for his age, but he’s still entitled to be taken off guard by such a big change.
My first glimpse of the lodge when we pull into the parking lot makes it clear why this was chosen for a mental health retreat.
It’s sleek, modern and elegant, and we walk into a beautiful, open lobby with flowing water and mellow, soothing music playing in the background.
The clock on the wall says 11:52, so assuming they aren’t ahead of schedule, we made it in time.
“Let me handle this,” Deacon says as we approach the desk. “It’s a team event so I have a bit of pull.”
From the way the receptionist’s eyes light up at his approach, it’s clear she knows exactly who he is, and in not much more than a minute, he’s charmed her into going to pull River out of the final session herself.
The click of her heels on the smooth stone floor signals her return, and my eyes lock with River’s confused ones as he follows her out.
That confused expression quickly morphs into concern as he sees me standing next to Deacon, and he quickly outpaces the receptionist, his long strides bringing him to my side in a matter of seconds. “Mom? What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to go grab a drink,” Deacon says, gesturing at the cafe on the other side of the lobby. “Text me if you need me.”
With that, he disappears, and River’s frown deepens as he watches his captain go. His brown eyes slide back to me, full of questions. “Mom?”
“Let’s sit down.”
I noticed a couple of chairs positioned in front of a small electric fire earlier and lead him towards them.
My hands tremble as I place them in my lap, so I intertwine my fingers to try to keep them steady.
Fuck, I feel even more nervous than when I had to tell my parents I was pregnant all those years ago.
No wonder River’s staring at me like the world must be ending.
“Nobody’s dead,” I assure him to start with, trying my best to smile and put him at ease.
It doesn’t work; if anything, his brows draw even tighter as he leans forward in his seat, waiting for me to get the point.
With a deep breath, I press on. “I’m sorry to barge in on your retreat. I wanted to tell you this at a better time, in a different way, but there was a chance you were going to hear it from someone else, and I didn’t want that to happen. I want you to hear it from me.”
“Hear what?” The fear in his tone makes my heart ache. “Are you sick?”
“No! No, nothing like that.” I’m making a complete mess of this. My poor boy looks worried sick, so I put him out of his misery. “I’m dating someone. That’s all. Nothing bad, I promise.”
River blinks a couple of times as he takes in my confession. “That’s it?”
He must think I’m out of my mind for coming all this way to tell him that, and I don’t blame him. “Yes, that’s it, but also no. It’s more about who I’m dating and the fact that other people are going to find it interesting. Newspapers, for instance.”
River’s face scrunches up like his brain is about to overheat from trying to make sense of any of this. “The news cares about who you’re dating? Is it a king or something?”
A small, desperate laugh escapes my throat. “It sounds insane, doesn’t it? But no, I don’t know any royalty.”
Unless you count hockey royalty, I suppose.
“Who is it?” he presses. “It’s not my dad, is it?”
The way his nose crinkles in distaste at the thought makes me smile in spite of everything. “Definitely not. And no matter what he might think, he’s not newsworthy.”
If he tries to guess, we might be here all day, so I force the words out.
“It’s Deacon.”
River blinks at me blankly, saying nothing, so I elaborate further.
“Deacon Belin. Deke.”
My hand flutters in the direction of the cafe where the man in question waits for a sign from me.
At last, realization dawns in River’s eyes, quickly followed by a flood of other emotions: surprise, confusion, and, most painfully for me, hurt.
“You’re dating Deke,” he repeats slowly, his tone flat. “My captain?”
I fight the urge to wince, forcing myself to hold his gaze instead as I nod.
“Yes. It’s new and I don’t know what’s going to happen and I didn’t want things to be weird for you so I wasn’t going to say anything until we had a better idea if it might actually turn into something, but there are some photos that were taken this weekend and they were posted online and people are going to see it and I wanted you to know about it before anyone else talks to you about it. ”
A short inhale is the only pause in my run-on sentence as I try to push out everything I’d been practicing on the way here.
“I’m so sorry if this makes things awkward for you.
I never wanted to do that, and I didn’t plan for this to happen.
Neither of us did. We met in Las Vegas before you introduced us, and I didn’t know who he was and he didn’t know who I was and we didn’t talk again for months because I didn’t want to put you in the middle of anything.
But then we saw each other again and there’s still something there and I still don’t want to cause you any trouble but… ”
River holds up a hand to stop me since I’m not letting him get a word in edgewise. It’s the same thing I do to him when he gets carried away, and I instantly clamp my mouth shut and wait for him to speak.
“You met him in Las Vegas? Before the draft?”
“Yes.” I leave it there, having no intention of going into detail about exactly how well I got to know him that night.
“And you didn’t talk all summer?”
“No.”
He’s processing everything calmly, which encourages me, until he asks a question I’ve been dreading. “How old is he?”
River might not know Deacon’s age precisely but the reason for his question is clear: he’s obviously quite a bit younger than me.
“Twenty-eight,” I answer honestly. There’s no point in lying.
“And you’re… okay with that?” His lips twist uncomfortably around the words.
Again, I answer him honestly. “I thought it might be weird, but it isn’t. I like him for who he is, not his age.”
“And you know about his wife and everything?”
Apparently, River’s more up-to-date on gossip about his teammates than I was. “I do. He told me all about it.”
“And that’s why it’s news,” he guesses, completely accurately.
“Yes. At this point, they don’t know anything about me, only that he’s seeing someone new. I imagine when they find out who I am, there will be talk. You’ll be dragged into it too and I’m sorry about that, River. Truly.”
My son’s eyes hold my gaze steadily. “If I asked you to stop seeing him, would you?”
I had a lot of time to think about that very question in the car, and as wonderful as Deacon is, as much as I feel something for him that I’ve never felt for anyone before, he could never replace my relationship with my son.
So, I tell him the truth. “Yes. If you really can’t live with it, I would.”