Page 47 of Chasing The Goal
My first year with the team. My first contract. And now this.
What if they didn’t want me after this season? What if the second I showed weakness—vulnerability—they cut me loose?
But I couldn’t hide it forever. And I was tired of pretending everything was fine.
Tomorrow, they’d know. One way or another.
And I’d figure out what came next.
Mallory
The building felt colderthat morning.
Maybe it was just me. Or the way I was sweating through my undershirt yet still somehow shivering, my palms clammy around the handle of the tote bag I’d carried in every day since the start of the season. Nothing in it had changed—snacks, charger, game schedule—but everything else had.
I passed the guys’ locker room, the usual buzz of early-morning jokes and half-laced skates echoing from inside, and headed down the quieter hallway toward the administrative offices. Toward Eliza’s office.
Myheart pounded like I was about to face a firing squad, not a thirty-something woman with a perfect jawline and a scary-good memory for player stats.
I knocked once.
“Come in,” she called, voice crisp as always.
I stepped inside.
Eliza looked up from her laptop, expression unreadable in that way she’d perfected. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek bun, not a strand out of place. Behind her, the Hellblades logo gleamed on the wall, framed by her minimal office decor—black leather chairs, a hanging plant she somehow hadn’t killed, and a calendar with every square marked in tiny, efficient handwriting.
“Mallory,” she said, setting her pen down and gesturing to the seat across from her. “Good Morning.”
“Morning,” I echoed, and sat.
She didn’t ask why I was there. Just watched me with the kind of patience that made me nervous. So I took a breath and jumped right in.
“I wanted to talk to you about something. Something personal, but it will also slightly effect my professional life as well," a small sigh escaped my lips.
Her brows lifted, just slightly. “Go on.”
“I’m pregnant.”
There. Out in the air. Floating between us like a snowflake that hadn’t landed yet.
Eliza didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just sat back in her chair, fingers steepled.
“I’m about fifteen, sixteen weeks along,” I added, because silence made me panic. “I found out about a month or so ago. I’ve been trying to keep it quiet, waiting until I started to show before I told anyone. But the morning sickness has been worse than a puck to the leg and was a bit of a give away with the guys…”
Still nothing from her. But her eyes softened, just a fraction.
“And, uh…” I exhaled, hands gesturing wildly now. “I have endometriosis, I was diagnoised in college and the doctors had told me it would be very, very hard to get pregnant, maybe not possible at all. And then it happened and… it felt like a fluke. A terrifying, beautiful fluke... I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”
I paused, feeling my throat go dry. Eliza’s expression hadn’t changed much, but something about the air between us did.
“And I know that’s probably way too much information,” I added quickly. “Sorry. That just kind of—spilled out. Woman to woman, I guess.”
Her mouth twitched. A hint of a smile.
“Jaymie’s been helping a lot,” I continued, quieter now. “He's not the father, but… he’s been amazing. He’s kind. Checks in. Came to one of my appointments last week. I don’t know why I’m telling you that, but—he’s been there.”
She nodded once and finally spoke.
