Page 79 of Boards & Betrayal

"Then you let yourself heal," she replied firmly. "You've already gone through the worst of it. And you survived. If you can do that, you can handle anything. I don't think people understand the devastation a miscarriage does to women internally."

"You... you had one?" I asked hesitantly.

She shook her head slowly. "My mother did," she said quietly. "Before me."

"I didn't know," I murmured, feeling a pang of sorrow for a grandmother I never truly understood.

"We don't talk about this," she continued. "As a society, I mean. My mother didn't even tell me. I found an old journal after she died... She had to bear that on her own, like a secret shame. But it wasn't her fault, either. Honey, most of the time, we don't understand why it happens. It just does."

"But..." My eyes started to water again. "I was only pregnant six, maybe seven weeks," I said, my voice breaking with eachword. "I didn't get to hear a heartbeat. I didn't... I don't know why I'm still upset about it. Some women lose their babies at twenty weeks, even later. I feel like I don't deserve to still be sad over something I only knew about for a week, maybe ten days."

She grabbed my hand tightly, her eyes full of compassion and understanding.

"You are entitled to mourn however long or short you need," she said firmly. "Every woman is different. And babies represent hope. The future. You're mourning that hope—the thought of what could have been and what you'll never know. And that's a lot."

I started crying again, unable to hold back the floodgates any longer.

She held me close as my sobs wracked my body, offering silent comfort in her embrace.

The crying felt cathartic, as if everything I'd held back all this time finally found release in those tears.

I would tell Tom somehow. Because she was right. I had to.

But right now, I needed to come to terms with the fact that I had lost a baby I never even knew I wanted. And nothing I could do or say was going to bring that back to me.

Chapter 24

Tom

Ileft the locker room, Walker's words echoing in my head. He had a knack for getting under my skin, but this time, his questions about my future hit a nerve. My feet dragged as I made my way to my office. The familiar surroundings did little to ease the storm brewing inside me.

I plopped into my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping to stave off the headache that threatened to settle in. The silence of the office seemed louder than usual. I had a fuck load on my plate already—championships to defend, players to manage, and now this looming decision about where I was heading next.

And then there was Ally. She lingered in my thoughts like an unfinished sentence, her presence haunting every corner of this room. I missed her—her laugh, her touch, even the way she challenged me without saying a word. This office felt emptier without her, a constant reminder of what we shared and what we lost.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers. The night we met played on repeat in my mind—a whirlwind of passion and connection that neither of us expected.But it wasn't just the physical that got me; it was the way she saw right through me, past the tough exterior and into the broken man beneath.

Damn it. How could I focus on anything else when every thought circled back to her? The pain in her eyes at the awards ceremony was seared into my memory. She hid something deep, something that tore at her as much as it did me.

I needed clarity—for myself, for Ally, for whatever came next. But right now, clarity felt as distant as an unattainable goal.

"I still can't believeyou coach the Crestwood Titans," Ally said as I led her to my office. The building was deserted, everyone long gone for the night.

I let out a snort, closing the door behind us. "Yeah, well, some dreams do come true," I said with a smirk.

"Is it weird?" she asked, glancing around the room.

"What?" I asked, settling into my chair.

"Dating a student?" She turned to face me, her eyes searching mine.

"Dating? Is that what we're doing?" I leaned back, eyebrow raised. "I don't think I've taken you out on a date."

Ally arched a brow. "If you're not interested?—"

I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. "I didn't say that." I tugged her into my arms, feeling the heat between us. My height loomed over her as she stared up at me, breath catching in her throat.

"Have you ever done this before?" she asked.

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