Page 53 of The Girlfriend Goal
"No." I was standing now. "He needs to hear this. Your son is brilliant. Not just at hockey, but at connecting with kids, at understanding people, at pushing through challenges that would break most people. He's succeeded despite you, not because of you."
Richard's face had gone past purple to white. "How dare you!"
"The real question is how dare you?" I was fully warmed up now. "How dare you treat your own son like an investment? How dare you try to dim his light because it makes you feel small?"
"Because I've protected him!" Richard exploded, standing. "Do you know what I've kept from those scouts? WhatI've hidden? His dyslexia. His learning disabilities. One word from me and those offers disappear."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"You what?" Lance's voice was deadly quiet.
"I've protected you. Kept them from finding out you can barely read. You think they want someone who needs special accommodations? Who can't handle the media requirements?"
"You told them?" Lance was so still it scared me. "You told them I was too stupid for the NHL?"
"I protected your image."
Lance moved so fast Richard didn't have time to react. Not to hit him—Lance had more control than that. But to lean in close, voice low and dangerous.
"You ever come near my career again, ever speak to a scout or coach or anyone in the NHL, and I'll tell everyone exactly what kind of father you really are. Every dirty secret, every affair, every shady deal. I've kept quiet out of respect for Mom's memory, but that ends now."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
They stared at each other, years of poison distilled into this moment. Then Lance straightened, took my hand, and walked out.
We ended up on the beach with In-N-Out, Matt and Jared having made a food run while Lance and I sat in the sand. The sunset painted everything gold again, but this time it felt like hope instead of sadness.
"You didn't have to do that," Lance said quietly.
"Yes, I did."
"He'll make your life hell now."
"Let him try." I shifted closer. "I meant what I said. Every word."
"Even the brilliant part?"
"Especially the brilliant part."
He looked at me then. This wasn't about project partners or convenience or buffers against difficult families. This was about us, finally, without pretense.
I kissed him. Put every unsaid word, every denied feeling, every moment of want into it. He responded immediately, pulling me closer, one hand tangling in my hair. It was desperate and sweet and tasted like possibility.
When we broke apart, his eyes were bright.
"Took you long enough," Matt called from up the beach.
"Seriously," Jared added. "The pining was getting embarrassing."
"I hate our friends," I murmured against Lance's lips.
He agreed, and kissed me again. We stayed on the beach until the stars came out, sharing burgers and fries and stories. Matt and Jared bickered about constellations. Jared insisted Orion was doing jazz hands, Matt argued it was clearly a warrior pose. Lance kept his arm around me, and I let myself lean into the warmth of him.
Chapter 22: Lance
Coming back to campus after Thanksgiving felt like emerging from some alternate universe where fathers were villains and Rachel voluntarily held my hand. The normal rhythm of classes and practice should’ve grounded me. Instead, everything felt shifted, like someone had adjusted the world three degrees while we were gone.
