Chapter Twenty-Four
Gale sat on the cold hardwood floor of his unlit foyer, his broad shoulders hunched over a small cat carrier. The muffled
mewls coming from inside tugged at his heart, each tiny cry a reminder of the responsibility he’d inherited—and was now considering
abandoning. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the scent of guilt clinging to his fingers.
It had all seemed so simple just a little while ago. Little Mama had chosen his pool deck as her delivery room, and he and
Harriet had spent the morning watching in awe as the kittens came into the world. When he’d first held their tiny bodies,
he’d felt invincible. Of course he’d keep the kittens. It felt right, like the beginning of something beautiful.
But now, with Little Mama split and Harriet . . . well, that was another story altogether. The weight of responsibility felt
crushing. How could he care for these lives when he couldn’t even keep his own from falling apart?
A sudden knock at the door startled him from his brooding. Brooke always had a knack for showing up when he was at his lowest.
“It’s open,” he called out, not bothering to move from his spot on the floor.
His sister’s familiar silhouette filled the doorway, her eyes widening as she took in his slumped position on the ground.
“Gale? You look like fresh hell. What’s going on?”
“The kittens.” He gestured weakly to the carrier. “I just got them in there. Little Mama’s gone. Ran off sometime last night. Abandoned them.”
Brooke’s face softened as she knelt beside him, peering into the carrier. “Oh, the poor things. But wait, I thought you were
going to keep them? What happened?”
Gale let out a mirthless chuckle. “Turns out I’m not cut out for this whole responsible-adult thing after all.”
“What are you talking about?” Brooke asked, settling down next to him, her shoulder brushing his in a gesture of silent support.
Gale’s jaw clenched. “I guess I’ll take them to the shelter. They’d be better off there, right? Give them a shot to find a
home with someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
“You have flabbered my gasted.” Brooke’s voice was incredulous. “Gale, you were so excited about this. What changed?”
Gale closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. “Everything.” Getting suspended. Harriet manipulating E.M.M.A. “And now Little Mama’s gone too. Maybe she had the right idea, you know? Just . . . leave when things get tough.”
Brooke was quiet for a moment, and he could feel her studying him. When she spoke, her voice was gentle but firm. “Hey. Is
it really about all that stuff? Or is it really all about Dad?”
His eyes snapped open, meeting his sister’s knowing gaze. She’d always been able to read his thoughts, even the ones he tried
to bury deep. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe it’s about everything.”
“You know,” Brooke began carefully, “you’re nothing like him. Dad, I mean.”
Gale felt a bitter laugh escape his lips. “Aren’t I? Here I am, thinking about abandoning these kittens. Just like he abandoned
us. Just like—” He cut himself off, but Harriet’s name hung unspoken between them.
Brooke shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips.
“That’s where you’re wrong, big brother.
You’re sitting here, agonizing over what to do.
Dad? He just left. No second thoughts, no looking back.
And let’s not forget, you’ve been taking care of these kittens.
You didn’t run at the first sign of responsibility. ”
A lump formed in his throat. “But what if I’m not cut out for this? Any of it? Hockey, relationships, being a . . . a cat
dad? What if I’m just fooling myself?”
“Okay, let’s break this down,” Brooke said, shifting to face him fully. “First off, hockey. You were drafted at twenty. You’ve
led your team in scoring multiple years. I know it’s been a bit off lately, but from a big picture? I’d say you’re doing pretty
well there.”
Gale shrugged, trying to brush off the praise. “On the ice, when I’m in the right headspace, I know what I’m doing. It’s . . .
simpler. It’s not like I have to use a lot of brain cells.”
Brooke raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? You’re responsible for executing strategies. Plus it’s so much more off the ice. You
have to navigate press conferences, contract negotiations, sponsorship deals, and still find time to visit kids in the hospital
and do all that other charity. That doesn’t sound simple to me.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No ‘but’s,” Brooke interrupted. “Now, let’s talk about relationships. Specifically, Harriet.”
Gale stiffened at the mention of her name. “Brooke, I don’t think—”
“Well, I do,” she said firmly. “Gale, what is happening with Harriet? I’m not dumb. You sent me a picture of the two of you
when she came to your practice. You both looked happier than I’ve ever seen you. I’m going to repeat . . . what is going on?”
His mind flashed to that afternoon by the pool—Harriet’s laugh, the way her eyes lit up as she cradled the newborn kittens, the way he felt like he could never get tired of looking at her. How he always wanted to talk to her. But then . . . “That’s her story to tell you.”
Brooke’s expression softened. “The question is, do you think what you have is worth fighting for? Are Biscuit and Deke in
there worth fighting for?”
Gale looked down at the cat carrier, at the tiny lives depending on him. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice barely above a
whisper. “I want to be the good guy. God, Brooke, I want to be the good guy so bad. But what if I’m not enough? What if I
can’t be what they need—what Harriet needs?”
“Be for real,” Brooke said, her voice firm but gentle. “After Dad left, who held this family together? Who made sure Mom was
okay, who kept the yard straight, or made dinner? That was all you.”
He remembered those days—the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders like a physical thing. The late nights, the
early mornings, juggling practice and part-time jobs and family obligations.
“I did the laundry. I drove you to practices. We all pitched in. But you were barely more than a kid yourself,” Brooke continued,
“and you really stepped up. You became the glue that held Mom and me together. And you know what? You’ve been doing it ever
since. With your team, your friends, and yes, even with these kittens.”
Gale swallowed hard, feeling the sting of tears at the backs of his eyes. “I’m so fucking scared, Brooke,” he admitted. “I’m
scared of turning into him. Of walking away when things get tough.”
Brooke reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Listen to me, and listen good. You are not Dad. You’re not Little Mama. You
never have been, and you never will be. Do you know how I know that?”
Gale let out a shaky breath. “But what if I mess up?”
“Then you’ll fix it,” Brooke said simply. “That’s what you do, Gale. You fix things. You make them better. It’s who you are.”
A tiny mew from the carrier drew both their attention. Gale reached out, unlatching the door. Two small kittens poked their
heads out, blinking up at him with wide, trusting eyes.
“Hey, Biscuit. Hi, Deke,” Gale said softly, scooping them into his hands. They fit perfectly in his palms, tiny balls of fur
and warmth. “Hi, girls.”
Brooke smiled, reaching out to scratch the kittens behind their ears. “Looks like someone’s made their decision for you.”
Gale looked at the kittens, then back at his sister. “You really think I can do this? All of it?”
“I know you can,” Brooke said confidently. “But more important, I think you want to. Am I right?”
Gale nodded slowly, feeling a resolve settle in his chest. “Yeah, I do. I want to try my best.”
“That’s all anyone can ask for,” Brooke said. “So, what’s the plan?”
Gale chuckled, the sound more genuine this time. “Well, I guess step one is ordering more litter and cat food.”
“And step two?” Brooke prompted.
Gale took a deep breath. “Step two is be open about Harriet. I want . . .” He took a deep breath. “I think I’ve been in love
with her since forever.”
Brooke gave a small nod. “I know I’ve always tried to protect you, but never against someone like Harriet. She would never
look at you except for the right reasons.”
Gale felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. “Thanks, Brooke. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably sit in dark rooms talking to kittens more often,” she teased, standing up and offering him a hand. “Come on, let’s
get these little ones settled. I have a feeling you’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
As Gale rose to his feet, kittens still cradled against his chest, the truth hit him differently than it had before.
Yeah, Harriet had lied—had known they were matched and kept it from him.
His first instinct had been to see it like his father’s betrayal, which had left him scrambling to pick up the pieces.
But this wasn’t the same thing. He could see it now in the way she’d looked at him, terrified and wanting and trying so damn
hard to protect herself. Like looking in a mirror, really. How many times had he choked on the ice this season, not because
he couldn’t make the play, but because he was so fucking scared of letting everyone down that he couldn’t breathe?
Everyone’s got their shit. Their scars. Their reasons for building walls. Sometimes lying isn’t about hurting someone else—it’s
about being too scared to believe something good could actually last. He got that now. Really got it.
Because Brooke was right. He wasn’t his father. And Harriet wasn’t someone trying to hurt him—she was just someone as scared
as he was, fighting her own battles. He was Gale Knight—hockey player, cat dad, and a guy who was starting to understand that
maybe being brave isn’t about not being afraid. Maybe it’s about being afraid and trying anyway.
And right now, what mattered was giving these kittens a home, and showing Harriet that sometimes the scariest things—like
telling the truth, like letting someone in—are worth the risk.
As he followed Brooke to the kitchen, Biscuit and Deke purring contentedly in his arms, Gale made a silent promise. He wouldn’t
run. He wouldn’t give up. He’d stay and fight, no matter how tough things got.
Because that’s what family did. And somehow, someway, he’d make sure Harriet knew she was part of that family too.
Later that night, Gale’s living room had become a war zone. Not the blood-and-guts kind, but the fur-and-chaos variety. Biscuit and Deke, those orange terrors masquerading as adorable kittens, were currently engaged in what could only be described as feline parkour.
He was contemplating the merits of kitten-proofing every square inch of his home when a knock at the door surprised him. Apparently
everyone was swinging by today.
He opened it to find Harriet standing there. She looked like she’d been put through an emotional wood chipper, her usually
pristine appearance now disheveled. No ponytail. Her hair hung loose and her shirt was untucked.
“Harriet,” he managed, already undone.
“I know it’s late, and I didn’t call,” she blurted, wringing her hands. “But I couldn’t . . . I mean, I needed to . . .”
“Come in,” he said, stepping aside.
They settled on the couch, maintaining a careful distance that felt more like the Grand Canyon than a few inches. Harriet
took a deep breath, looking like she was gearing up to diffuse a bomb. “Gale, I’m so sorry. What I did with E.M.M.A. . . .
it was monumentally stupid. I hurt you, and I’d take it back if I could.”
He felt something in his chest loosen. “Why’d you do it, Harriet? I mean, manipulating an AI to avoid admitting we’re perfect
for each other? That’s some next-level avoidance.”
Harriet looked down, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve spent my whole life believing in logic and algorithms. But when E.M.M.A. said
we were a match, I freaked. I wasn’t prepared. I think I’d gotten so used to ignoring my feelings for you, for saying how
impossible it all was, that it felt unreal.”
“Before you say another word, know this. I forgive you.” His voice came out rougher than he meant it to.
“I get it now—how fear makes you protect yourself, even from good things. Fuck knows I’ve been doing the same thing all season.
” He swallowed hard. “But I’m sick of being scared.
I want to make this work, Harriet. You, me, the kittens.
The whole shebang. If you’re in, I’m all in. No more running—either of us.”
“No more secrets, no more setups. Just us, figuring out this mess together.”
Gale pulled her close, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. “Together,” he agreed.
Just then, a dramatic mewl from the kitchen had them both jumping.
He looked at her, saw the laughter dancing in her eyes, and knew he was exactly where he was meant to be. Crazy cats, brilliant
girlfriend, and all the chaos that came with them.
Bring it on.