Chapter 54 Ash
ASH
The ice beneath my skates feels like the only solid thing in my world right now.
Everything else—my thoughts, my emotions, my entire damn life—feels like it’s spinning out of control.
I slam another player into the boards harder than necessary, earning a warning look from the ref, but I don’t care.
The physical contact is the only thing keeping me sane.
Tish is pregnant.
The words keep echoing in my head like a broken record. She’s carrying a baby.
Maybe mine, maybe Jake’s, maybe Carl’s, and she refuses to find out whose.
She also refuses to choose between us, which was fine when it was just about her happiness, but now?
Now there’s an innocent child involved who deserves to know their father.
My moral compass, already spinning wildly since I fell for my best friend’s sister, is completely shattered.
Everything I was raised to believe about right and wrong feels meaningless when it comes to her.
The woman who’s turned my world upside down with her dark blue eyes and stubborn streak that rivals my own.
After another particularly brutal game where I earned two penalties for unnecessary roughness, I know I need space. Distance. Time to think without Jake’s easy grin or Carl’s knowing looks, without Tish’s presence making my chest tight with want and confusion.
I drive for hours, finally stopping at a small hotel two towns over.
The room is generic and sterile, exactly what I need. No reminders of hockey, of the guys, of her. Just me and the mess inside my head.
For three days, I pace the small room like a caged animal. I order room service, ignore calls from the team, and try to make sense of everything.
The pregnancy changes everything, doesn’t it? A child should be raised by their parents, not in some unconventional arrangement that goes against everything I was taught growing up.
But then I think about Tish’s smile when she’s with all three of us, how complete she seems, how happy. How can something that makes her glow like that be wrong?
On the fourth day, I do something I haven’t done in over ten years. I call my parents.
Mom answers on the second ring, her voice breathless with surprise. “Ashton? Oh my goodness, is everything okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” The lie comes easily. “How are you and Dad?”
“We’re good, honey. Really good. Your father’s working at the auto shop, and I’m doing bookkeeping for a small business. Clean work, honest work.” There’s pride in her voice, and something loosens in my chest.
Dad gets on the line, and for a few minutes we make small talk.
They ask about hockey, about my life, careful not to push too hard. They know they lost the right to demand details when they destroyed my faith in everything I believed.
But sitting in this sterile hotel room, I realize I need their perspective.
They’ve been where I am, lost and confused, trying to figure out what’s right when everything feels wrong.
“I need advice,” I blurt out, interrupting Dad’s story about a difficult customer.
Silence stretches across the line before Mom speaks softly. “We’re listening, sweetheart.”
The whole story pours out of me. Tish, the pregnancy, the three of us, my confusion about what’s right.
I expect condemnation, lectures about sin and morality like I would have gotten as a teenager. Instead, there’s just quiet understanding.
“Son,” Dad finally says, his voice rough with emotion, “your mother and I made a lot of mistakes. We hurt you, hurt our family, because we got so caught up in what we thought was right that we forgot about what mattered most…love.”
“The heart wants what it wants,” Mom adds gently. “And sometimes that doesn’t fit into neat little boxes that society approves of. The question isn’t whether it’s conventional, Ashton. The question is whether it’s built on love, respect, and genuine care for each other.”
“But the baby—”
“Will be loved by multiple people who want what’s best for them,” Dad interrupts. “That child will have more love and protection than most kids ever dream of. How is that wrong?”
After we hang up, I sit in the growing darkness of the hotel room, their words echoing in my mind. Look deep inside your heart and figure out what’s most important to you.
The answer comes with startling clarity. Tish. Her happiness, her safety, her smile.
The way she makes me feel whole in a way I never knew I was broken.
If sharing her with Jake and Carl is what makes her complete, then I can live with that. I can more than live with it, I can embrace it.
I drive home on Valentine’s Day morning, stopping only to buy the largest stuffed bear I can find and a heart-shaped box of chocolates.
It’s cheesy and romantic and everything the old me would have scoffed at, but the new me, the man who’s learned that love doesn’t always follow the rules, thinks it’s perfect.
Her apartment building looks the same, but everything feels different as I climb the stairs.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I knock on her door, the oversized bear awkward in my arms.
When she opens the door, her eyes widen in surprise. She’s wearing a soft pink sweater that makes her skin glow, her long black hair falling in waves over her shoulders.
The sight of her hits me like a physical blow, reminding me exactly why I can’t walk away.
“Ash? What are you doing here?”
I hold out the bear, suddenly feeling foolish. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
She takes the bear, her fingers brushing mine, and I see her eyes soften. “You’ve been gone for days. Everyone was worried.”
“I needed to think. About us, about the baby, about everything.” I step closer, drawn by her warmth. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”
She nods, stepping aside to let me pass. The apartment smells like her—vanilla and something uniquely Tish that makes my chest tight with longing.
“I struggled with the pregnancy,” I admit, watching her set the bear on her couch. “With the idea of sharing you, of not knowing if the baby is mine. It went against everything I thought I believed about family, about what’s right.”
Her face falls slightly, and I rush to continue.
“But then I called my parents.” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “They reminded me that love doesn’t always fit into neat categories. That what matters isn’t what other people think is right, but what makes the people you love happy.”
I step closer, close enough to see the flecks of silver in her dark blue eyes.
“The most important thing in my life is making sure you’re happy and safe. If having Jake, Carl, and me in your life accomplishes that, then I’m all in. Completely, totally, no reservations.”
Her breath catches, and I see hope bloom in her expression.
“I love you, Tish. I love the baby you’re carrying, regardless of whose DNA they have. I love this crazy, unconventional situation we’ve created because it brought us together.”
She reaches up, her palm cupping my cheek, and I lean into her touch like a man starved.
“So what happens now?” I ask, my voice rough with emotion and possibility.