Page 60 of Player Misconduct
“Okay, I get it… I do. So I’m going to say this one last thing. And I mean this with love… but is there any chance that you’re protecting yourself from fear of rejection?” Peyton asks.
For a moment, no one speaks. Then Vivi reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing once. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell us. You have your reason and we’ll support you.” she says softly. “Our job today is to make sure you have everything you need. No matter what. If you want to downplay this whole thing to Aleksi and give him an easy out, then do what you have to.”
The pressure behind my eyes builds, but I blink it back. Peyton’s probably right but I just can’t go to that place right now. Rejection has been such a huge part of my life. My mother, Tarron, the media. Even medical school has a lot of moments where someone else is picked over you.
Admission letters, first year residency applications, everything has a waiting list and a line of people more qualified than you.
We wander for another half hour, falling into easy chatter. Peyton debates stroller models like she’s prepping for a sports draft. Vivi insists every baby deserves a plush blanket “so soft it makes angels jealous.”
I know Peyton and Vivi mean well, which is why I take into consideration everything they say, even if I need to process it for more time before I can answer it honestly.
For today, I’m going to allow myself to bask in being here. Surrounded by pastel chaos and people who refuse to let me feel alone.
Vivi’s voice breaks through my reverie. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile, small but sure. “Actually, I think I am.”
Peyton slings an arm around my shoulders. “Good. Because we’re doing this together. You and baby bubble get the whole WAG village.”
I laugh softly. “I think we’re gonna need it.”
And if I have to play along with Tarron’s redemption narrative to keep this peace intact, so be it.
He can use my name for good press. It keeps the Hawkeyes, Aleksi… and Penelope’s GM position safely out of the media’s line of fire. And I can use Tarron’s name for protection.
Penelope has done so much for me. I owe her a lot and dragging the start of her legacy as the first female GM in the NHL into the mud isn’t fair. She doesn’t deserve that.
This option is at least transactional.
No one gets hurt.
Aleksi
The walk from The Commons to the stadium takes maybe five minutes, but I’m practically buzzing by the time I hit the second block.
Back home, finally.
The three months in Finland did what I needed it to—reset my head, refill the tank. Between helping coach my nephew’speewee team, sauna nights with my mom, and my sister force-feeding me home cooking, I actually feel… good. Grounded. Ready to take on this season
I didn’t text Kendall. Not even once.
She asked for space, and I gave it to her. Even when it felt like it was cutting off my oxygen. I can’t count the number of times I wrote something and then deleted it before I sent it. How many times I stalked her photos and the team’s socials trying to get any glimpse of her and how she’s doing.
And when those photos with Tarron hit the internet, I tried not to read into them. The dinner, the hand on her back, the kiss on the cheek, thelittlebundlecomment in his interview that made me throw my cell phone against the wall of my sister’s living room. That cost me a brand new phone and a full interrogation about Kendall from a nosy twin sister.
I told myself it didn’t matter. That maybe she’d finally moved on.
But the truth? The thought of her with him again nearly drove me to booking a flight and coming home early to make one last ditch effort to make her see that trying to figure this out between us is worth the risk.
It’s late afternoon when I spot a row of boutique storefronts across the street, pastel awnings glowing. I’m halfway past when something—someone—catches my eye.
Blonde hair. A soft laugh. Hand curved protectively over her stomach.
I stop cold.
She’s inside a baby store, standing by a white crib while Peyton and Vivi hover nearby. They’re laughing about something. Peyton’s gesturing wildly, Vivi pretending to measure the rails like she’s about to redecorate the entire place.
But Kendall… She's different. She is softer somehow… practically glowing.
