CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #2
"Like I'm living a lie every time she calls me Uncle Easton." My voice cracked. "Like I'm pretending to be something I'm not when I should be…"
"When you should be what?"
"Her dad." The word felt foreign and right all at once. "I should be her dad."
"You are her dad," Dr. Reyes said gently. "You have been for six years. You just didn't know it."
The tears came again, quieter this time but no less painful.
"What do I do now?" I asked.
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to tell Casey the truth. I want to be a part of her life. Really in it. Not as Uncle Easton, but as her father."
"And Sadie?"
My chest tightened. "I don't know. I'm so angry with her. But I also—" I couldn't finish.
"You also what?"
"I love her." The admission felt like defeat and relief all at once. "I'm furious with her, and I love her, and I don't know how to reconcile those two things."
"You don't have to. Not yet." Dr. Reyes's expression was understanding. "Right now, focus on what you can control. You can't change the past. But you can decide what kind of father you want to be."
"What if she doesn't let me?"
"Sadie?" He raised an eyebrow. "The woman who sent you Casey's birth certificate and newborn photo this morning? I don't think keeping you away is what she wants."
I looked down at the photo again. Sadie's exhausted, radiant smile. Casey's tiny fist.
"She's scared," Dr. Reyes said quietly. "Just like you are. Scared of what this means. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of Casey getting hurt."
"I would never hurt Casey."
"I believe you. But Sadie doesn't know that yet. You need to show her."
"How?"
"By being the father Casey deserves. By proving that you're not going to disappear when things get hard." He paused. "By forgiving Sadie for doing the best she could with an impossible situation."
"I'm not ready to forgive her."
"That's okay. You don't have to be ready yet." Dr. Reyes's smile was understanding. "But eventually, for Casey's sake, you'll need to work together. To be co-parents, even if you can't be anything else."
The thought of Sadie with someone else someday made my stomach turn, but I pushed it aside.
"One step at a time," I said.
"One step at a time," Dr. Reyes agreed. "What's your first step?"
I thought about Casey's question through the window. Is he coming back?
"I need to talk to Casey," I said. "Tell her I'm not going anywhere.” My voice caught. "That I love her. Even if she doesn't know I'm her father yet."
"That sounds like a good first step."
I tucked the photo back in my wallet, feeling steadier than I had since yesterday. Still angry. Still hurt. But less lost.
"Thank you," I said.
Dr. Reyes nodded. "Same time next week?"
"Yeah. I think I'm going to need it."
As I walked back to my truck, my phone buzzed. A text from Sadie.
Casey keeps asking when you're coming back. I told her I don't know. Please… she misses you.
My chest ached.
I sat in my truck in the parking lot, staring at the message. More texts from Beck, from Holly, from Coach. But this one from Sadie was the only one that mattered.
I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't go to practice. I'd already missed the morning skate. Couldn't go to the clinic. I couldn't go home and sit in my empty condo while my thoughts spiraled.
Casey needed new skates. I'd promised her before everything exploded. Before I knew she was mine.
Was I supposed to keep that promise now? Or would showing up make everything worse?
I needed to do something normal. Something that didn't involve anger or betrayal or lawyers.
I pulled up directions to McKenzie's Sporting Goods and started driving.
The sales floor was quiet on a weekday afternoon, with a few customers browsing the aisles. I headed straight for the hockey section, where rows of sticks lined the wall.
I selected a youth-sized stick with the perfect flex for a six-year-old. My fingers traced the shaft as I pictured Casey's tiny hands holding it.
"Can you customize this?" I asked the clerk, a young woman with a Shadow Wolves lanyard around her neck. From her expression, she recognized me.
"Of course, Mr. Henley. What would you like it to say?"
I didn't hesitate. "Casey Henley."
She paused, pencil hovering over the order form. "Henley?" She repeated, glancing at me with recognition dawning. "I didn't realize you had a daughter."
I met her gaze steadily, something like pride replacing the anger that had been my companion since discovering the truth.
"Yes," I said firmly. "My daughter."
The clerk's eyes rounded, and her quick look at her coworker, who was attempting to appear disinterested, told me everything.
The shift in the store's atmosphere was immediately noticeable.
Whispers started, phones were discreetly pulled from pockets, and customers abruptly found reasons to browse the hockey equipment.
"Henley has a kid?"
"Did he say daughter?"
"How old?"
"Who's the mother?"
The whispers rippled around me like a wave, hushed voices multiplying.
I'd been in the public eye long enough to recognize the moment. A piece of private information transformed into public gossip.
By tomorrow, it would be everywhere.
I should care more about the privacy invasion that was about to explode in our lives. But standing here, claiming Casey as mine for the first time, I couldn't bring myself to regret it.
Let them talk. Let the entire world know.
I was done with secrets.
As I waited for the customization to be completed, I scrolled through the few photos I had of Casey on my phone.
One from the hospital after her fall through the ice.
Another from the private hockey game at the arena.
My reflection mirrored in every one of her features, the familiarity so stark I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed sooner.
I created a new album titled simply Casey and made a silent promise to fill it with new memories.
The clerk returned with the finished stick, Casey's name emblazoned in Shadow Wolves blue. As she handed it to me, her expression was a mix of excitement and uncertainty.
"Your daughter plays hockey, too?" she asked, clearly fishing for more information to share later.
"Center, just like me," I replied, unable to keep the pride from my voice. "She's got a better wrist shot than I did at her age."
More whispers followed me as I made my way to the checkout, but they didn't bother me. The stick in my hand mattered more than any gossip. It was a small thing, this stick with our name, but it represented something monumental.
It was the beginning of our story as father and daughter.
As I pushed through the store's doors, I could already imagine the headlines that would greet me tomorrow. The media storm that was about to hit would be intense, especially for Sadie and Casey. I needed to warn them, to prepare them for what was coming.
But first, I needed to keep my promise to Casey.