Page 143 of What Are the Chances
After texting Tanner through the score and boasting about Will’s OT winner, I waited in the concourse with Grace and Lana.
I had no clue how Will was going to react when he saw me. Part of me wished we could speak in private first instead of reuniting in front of a group of people, because if he was going to rip my heart out, I would rather it happen where nobody could see.
My phone lit up in my hand.
DAD:I assume you’re here.
RILEY:Yes.
DAD:Meet me on the ice.
We were back to demands. Great.
“I’m going to quickly say hi to my dad,” I told Grace and Lana. “I’ll be right back.”
Rather than go through the secured corridors and risk passing the team, I headed back into the arena. It was mostly empty now, the crowd having cleared out quickly so they could head to whatever after party there was.
Dad was sitting on the vacant home bench, watching the Zamboni as it resurfaced the ice. With no security guards around, I was easily able to get to him.
Dad didn’t acknowledge me as I approached. He was clearly in a mood. Couldn’t the guy just be pumped after that win and leave it at that?
Sitting beside him, I took a deep breath. I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was about to go. If it resulted in dad and me arguing, then so be it.
“Are you dating Will to get to me?” he asked.
“What? Of course not.”
That was offensive to both Will and me, and also infuriating that dad held himself in such a high regard. I didn’t need to jump through hoops or date anyone to get his attention. If he didn’t want to give it to me, I wasn’t going to force it. His absence wouldn’t be missed. I was used to it.
“You need to break up with him, Riley.”
Out of all the demands dad had voiced over the years, this was by far the most outrageous.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“He missed last weekend’s game because of you,” dad snapped.
“So did you.”
“I’m the coach, not a key player. Me missing the game doesn’t cost a team as much.”
With a burst of anger I sprung to my feet and started pacing along the bench, just like dad did during games. I honestly couldn’t believe my own father.
“I was in hospital,” I reminded him.
“I understand Riley, but–”
I whipped on dad. “You know, when you turned up last Friday, I thought maybe you’d changed.”
“Riley–”
“Did you know that was the first time in my life you put me before hockey? How foolish was I to think it might have been a turning point.”
“You don’t–.”
“God, dad. Stop. For just this once, listen.”
To my surprise, he did. He braced himself before looking up at me.
