12. JAXON
JAXON
As Friends
The headline burns across my phone screen like a brand.
Metro Raptors' New Coach Caught in Post-Game Tryst: Mystery Woman Identified as Live-In Nanny
Beneath it, a grainy photo. Zara's face half-turned toward me in the arena corridor, my hand at her lower back. The angle makes it look more intimate than it is. Or maybe exactly as intimate as it is.
I scroll down. More photos. Us leaving together. Her hair mussed in a way that tells its own story.
My thumb hovers over the screen.
The article continues—speculation about our living arrangement, questions about professionalism, a particularly cutting line about single fathers and their "household help."
Someone has done their research. They know Zara lives in my apartment. They know she'd started as Lily's nanny.
I call Simone, before my coffee finishes brewing.
"Already on it," she says instead of hello. "We're drafting a statement. Something about private lives staying private, commitment to the team, blah blah blah."
"That's not going to cut it." I move to the window, watching the city wake up seventeen stories below. "There's a custody hearing in a few weeks. My ex-wife's lawyers are going to have a field day."
Simone pauses. The silence stretches long enough that I know she is calculating angles, weighing options. "What exactly are we dealing with here, Jaxon? I need the full picture."
"She's not just the nanny anymore."
Another pause. "Define 'not just.'"
"We're getting married."
The sound Simone makes is somewhere between a laugh and a choke. "You're—I'm sorry, did you say married? To the woman the tabloids just caught you sneaking around with?"
"It's a legal arrangement. For the custody case."
"And the photos? The very much not-legal-arrangement photos?"
I don't answer. Can't, really.
Because what happened in that staff lounge isn’t about custody papers or court appearances. It’s about the way Zara looks at me. The way her skin feels under my fingers. The way she whispered together like she meant it.
"Jaxon." Simone's voice sharpens. "I need to know what I'm spinning here."
"Spin whatever you need to spin. Just keep Lily's name out of it."
"The daughter angle is actually—"
"Out of it, Simone."
She sighs. "Fine. But you're doing a press availability after practice today. Controlled questions, quick answers, we move on. And Jaxon? Maybe keep your hands to yourself until this blows over."
She hangs up before I can respond.
The apartment is quiet around me.
Lily has already left for school—Mrs. Henriksen has taken her early, before I'd even emerged from my bedroom. I'd heard them in the kitchen, Lily's chatter about her dragon cartoon mixing with the housekeeper's patient responses.
What I haven't heard is Zara.
She usually starts the mornings with Lily. Makes breakfast. Talks through the day's schedule while braiding my daughter's hair with a competence I can never manage. Her absence this morning sits wrong in my chest.
I find her in the living room, curled into the corner of the couch with her phone. She looks up when I enter.
Her expression is carefully neutral, but there’s tension in her shoulders.
"You saw," I say. Not a question.
"Hard to miss." She holds up her phone. The same article, same photos. "Danny texted me seven times before six AM. I think he's worried I've joined some kind of hockey cult."
"Who’s Danny?"
"My brother." She sets the phone down, face-up, like she can't quite stop looking at it. "He wants to know if I'm okay."
"Are you?"
The question lands between us. Zara meets my eyes, and I watch her consider lying. Consider giving me the easy answer, the professional response.
"I don't know," she says instead. "I've never been tabloid fodder before. It's... a lot."
I move to the opposite end of the couch, giving her space.
“Simone’s handling it. She’s drafting a press statement.
But since we have to move fast, it’ll include that we’re getting married.
So we can expect more tabloid attention because of that.
And if my experience with tabloids says anything, it won’t be kind. ”
"Unless they don't." She pulls at a loose thread on her sweater. "Unless your ex-wife's lawyers decide to use this. Unless—"
"Hey." I lean forward. "That's not going to happen."
"You can't know that."
She is right. I can't.
But I'd spent the last five years fighting for Lily. Fighting to stay in her life when everything in the system seems designed to push fathers out.
Fighting to prove I can be enough—coach and parent, provider and presence. I'd learned that certainty is a luxury I can't afford, but action isn't.
"I know what I'm going to do about it," I say.
"I'm going to go to practice. I'm going to coach my team.
I'm going to come home tonight and read Lily her bedtime story.
And tomorrow, I'm going to do it again. The lawyers, the press, the speculation—they can all go to hell. This is my life. Mine and Lily's."
I pause.
"And yours. If you still want it to be."
Zara's hand stops pulling at the thread. She looks at me—really looks, in that way she has that makes me feel stripped down to bone. "You're asking if I'm backing out."
"I'm asking if you're okay."
She uncurls from the couch, standing in one fluid motion. The morning light catches her hair, the same curls I'd tangled my fingers in less than twelve hours ago.
I make myself stay still. Make myself not reach for her.
“I’m okay, and I’m not backing out,” she says. “But Jaxon… this is already more complicated than I ever imagined.”
“I know.”
An email notification lights up my phone with Simone’s draft for a press statement.
I open it and read.
METRO RAPTORS HEAD COACH JAXON HALBERG ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT
New York, NY — The Metro Raptors organization confirms that Head Coach Jaxon Halberg is engaged to Zara Winslow.
Ms. Winslow has been a trusted presence in Coach Halberg’s personal life in recent weeks, and their relationship has developed privately.
The couple has made the decision to move forward with their engagement with a shared focus on family, stability, and the well-being of Coach Halberg’s daughter, Lily.
Coach Halberg and Ms. Winslow are committed to building a supportive and grounded home environment and are approaching this next step with care and intention.
While Coach Halberg understands the public interest surrounding his role, he respectfully asks for privacy for his family during this time.
The Metro Raptors fully support Coach Halberg and remain confident in his leadership as the team continues its season.
I show it to Zara.
Her mouth curves, just slightly. “Then it’s out, at least. Go coach your hockey team, Halberg. I’ll hold down the fort.”
I make it as far as the door before I turn back. She’s still standing where I left her, arms crossed, watching me go.
“Zara.”
“Yeah?”
I clear my throat, shifting slightly. “Look, I—” I stop. Try again. “I didn’t say thank you properly.”
She blinks, her brows drawing together. “Oh, don’t worry about it.”
I hold her gaze. “Come to dinner with me tonight. As a thank you.”
Zara studies me, like she’s trying to read what I’m not saying.
“Dinner,” she repeats, testing the word for hidden meaning.
“Yeah.” And when it hits me what she might be worried about, I add quickly, “Not a date, I promise. Just… getting to know each other a bit better, you know, considering we’re getting married. And as a thank you, like I said.”
Something flickers across her expression, but I can’t quite place it.
“Not a date,” she clarifies.
“Right.”
“As a thank you.”
“Exactly.”
“Just dinner as… friends?”
Friends. I like the sound of that.
“As friends,” I agree.
Her lips twitch, just slightly. “Okay then.”