Chapter 43 He Chose Me Over His Career.
Harper's Pov,
“No, we're not taking Harper from your life. What I actually want to say is…. by demonstrating that you're focused on what matters," Morrison said.
"Your career, your health, your future with this organization. Ms. Sinclair can still be part of your private life. We're not meddling in your private life. We're just asking you to be strategic about how you present yourself publicly."
Crew was quiet for a long moment.
Then he looked at Gerald. "Is any of this legally enforceable?"
"The drug testing and counseling requirements are standard and enforceable. The personal relationship clause is more complicated." Gerald pulled out his own document.
"We can't legally prevent you from dating Ms. Sinclair. But we can include a morality clause that gives us the right to terminate your contract if your conduct brings disrepute to the organization."
"And you'd argue that publicly dating Harper brings disrepute." Crew said.
"Yes, exactly.”
"So basically, date her if you want but keep it secret or we'll fire you." Crew smiled but there was no humor in it. "That's quite an offer."
"It's a fair offer given the circumstances," Morrison said.
"Crew, we want you back. You're a talented player and an asset to this organization. But we need to protect the team's reputation and financial interests. Surely you can understand that."
"I understand that you're asking me to choose between my career and the person I love."
"We're asking you to prioritize your recovery and your professional responsibilities."
"By pretending Harper doesn't exist…?" Crew stood up. "NO!!"
The room went silent.
"I'm sorry?" Morrison said.
"You heard me, I said NO. I'm not doing that." Crew picked up the contract and set it back on the table. "Find a better deal or I walk."
"Crew, be reasonable—"
"I AM being reasonable. You're asking me to lie about my life and pretend the most important person in my world doesn't matter. That's bullshit for crying out loud." He looked at Gerald.
"Does my current contract have this morality clause you're talking about?"
Gerald hesitated. "Yes. It's standard in all player contracts."
"And has my relationship with Harper violated that clause?"
"That's debatable—"
"Has it or hasn't it?"
"The team would argue that the negative media attention constitutes conduct detrimental—"
"But I haven't been charged with anything. I haven't committed any crimes. I've just been dating someone who was falsely accused and then exonerated when the charges were dropped." Crew leaned forward.
"So unless you're arguing that dating someone who was wrongly prosecuted is itself misconduct, you don't have grounds to terminate my existing contract based on this relationship."
Gerald looked uncomfortable. "That's technically correct, but—"
"Then my existing contract stands. $8 million per year, two more years remaining, no morality violations." Crew straightened up.
"Here's my counteroffer. I come back next season under my existing contract terms. I submit to drug testing because that's appropriate given my history. I attend counseling because that's smart and I want to stay clean. But I don't hide my relationship with Harper. I don't pretend she doesn't exist. And if you have a problem with that, you can trade me to a team that doesn't think loving someone is a liability."
Morrison's face was red. "You're making a mistake."
"Maybe. But it's my mistake to make." Crew looked at me and smiled. "Harper, we're done here."
I stood up, trying to process what just happened.
Crew had just told the Titans to accept him as he was or lose him.
"Mr. Lawson," Gerald said quickly. "Perhaps we can negotiate—"
"There's nothing to negotiate. Either you accept that Harper is part of my life or you trade me to someone who will." Crew headed for the door. "You have until tomorrow to decide. After that, I'm calling other teams myself."
We walked out of the conference room and down the hallway… into the elevator before either of us spoke.
"Crazy of you to do that," I said.
"That was necessary." Crew hit the button for the lobby. "Harper, I meant what I said. I'm not choosing my career over you."
"You might not have a career after that."
"Then I'll find something else. But I'm not spending the next two years hiding you like you're something to be ashamed of." He grabbed my hand. "I'm done letting other people dictate how I live my life. If the Titans can't handle that, fuck them."
"What if no other team wants you?" I asked.
"Then I'll coach. Or train. Or go back to school and figure out something completely different." He pulled me close as the elevator descended.
"Harper, for three years I let fear run my life. Fear of pain, fear of losing hockey, fear of admitting I needed help. And every single decision I made from that place of fear made things worse. I'm not doing that anymore."
"So you're making decisions from a place of love instead?"
"I'm making decisions from a place of knowing what actually matters. And you matter more than hockey. More than money. You matter more than what David Morrison thinks is good for the team's brand."
The elevator doors opened and we walked through the lobby together. I could feel people staring at us but I didn't care anymore.
"You know what Morrison's going to do, right?" I said when we got to the car. "He's going to leak this to the media. He's going to make you look difficult and ungrateful."
"Let him. I'll tell my side of the story." Crew got in the passenger seat. "Besides, after everything that came out about Richard and Robert Cross, I think people are ready to hear that maybe the organizations aren't always right."
"You're really okay with potentially losing everything?"
"I'm not losing everything. I'm choosing what matters." He looked at me.
"Harper, I'm 32 days clean. I went to an NA meeting this morning where I admitted I'm terrified of staying sober. I just told my employer that they can accept me as a whole person or lose me. I'm doing things I never thought I'd be brave enough to do. So yeah, I'm okay with it. Because for the first time in years, I'm actually living instead of just surviving."
…..
We drove back to Maya's apartment and when we walked in, she was sitting on the couch with her laptop, clearly waiting for us.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Crew told Morrison to fuck off," I said.
"Not in those exact words," Crew clarified. "But yeah, basically."
Maya grinned. "Good. Morrison's an asshole. What did he even offer?"
"Reduced salary, mandatory drug testing, and I had to publicly pretend Harper doesn't exist." Crew collapsed on the couch next to Maya. "I told them to trade me to a team that doesn't think my personal life is their business."
"So you might be unemployed."
"That’s right."
"Well, at least you'll have company. I quit my job this morning."
Both Crew and I stared at her.
"YOU WHAT?" I said, shockingly.
"I quit. Sent Morrison an email at 9 AM telling him I was done enabling the Titans' bullshit treatment of people I care about." Maya closed her laptop. "He tried to get me to stay. Offered me a raise. I told him he could take his raise and shove it directly up his ass."
"Maya, you loved that job."
"I loved the job before it required me to choose between professional success and moral integrity. Now it's just another sports organization that prioritizes image over people." She shrugged. "I'll find something else. There are plenty of teams that actually treat their employees like humans."
"But you walked away from six figures and full benefits—"
"And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Harper, you're my best friend. Crew makes you happy, which makes him family. Morrison wanted me to help him pressure you both into doing something you didn't want to do. So fuck that and fuck him." Maya stood up.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to order celebratory pizza and start updating my resume… Anyone have dietary restrictions I should know about?"
"I don't think I can eat," Crew said. "I'm still processing the fact that I might have just ended my hockey career."
"You didn't end it. You just set boundaries. Big difference." Maya pulled out her phone. "Now, pizza toppings. This is important."
While Maya ordered food, Crew's phone started ringing. He looked at the screen and his expression changed.
"It's Marcus. My agent." He answered. "Hey."
I watched his face as he listened to whatever Marcus was saying. His expression went from worried to shocked to something that looked almost like hope.
"Seriously? How did they… okay. Yeah. I'll think about it." He paused. "Thanks, Marcus. I appreciate you working so fast."
He hung up and just stared at his phone.
"What?" I asked.
"That was Marcus. He said he got a call 5 minutes ago from Vancouver's GM. They want to talk to me about a trade."
"Vancouver as in the Vancouver Canucks?"
"Yeah. Apparently word travels fast in the league. They heard I might be available and they want me." Crew looked dazed.
"Marcus said they're offering $7.5 million per year for three years. Full medical support, no morality clause restrictions on my personal life, and they're actively recruiting me instead of treating me like damaged goods."
Maya came back from the kitchen. "Did you just say Vancouver wants you?"
"They want to talk. Nothing's official yet." Crew set his phone down. "But yeah. Apparently telling Morrison to fuck off was the right move."
"Of course it was. Teams want players who know their worth." Maya pulled up something on her laptop. "Vancouver's a good organization. They have strong player support programs, decent media market, and their arena is beautiful."
"It's also 4 hours away from Seattle," I said quietly.
Everyone went silent.
Crew looked at me. "Harper—"