Chapter 224 Chapter 223

Chapter 224 Chapter 223
Logan POV

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the championship medal sitting on my nightstand.

For a second, I forgot why it was there.

Then yesterday came rushing back.

The lake.

Mom.

The charity formal.

Harper.

Watching an entire ballroom stand to applaud the woman who had spent most of her life quietly applauding everyone else.

I smiled before I even climbed out of bed.

It had been one of the best nights of my life.

Not because of the tuxedo.

Not because of the fundraiser.

Not even because Harper had looked absolutely breathtaking.

It was because somewhere between standing in that ballroom and dancing with her beneath a room full of lights…

I’d stopped feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world alone.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Harper ❤️

Morning, Hockey Boy.

I laughed quietly.

Me:
Morning, Miss President.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Still smiling?

I looked toward the medal again.

Then toward the navy tie hanging over the chair in my room.

Then out the window.

Me:
Yeah.

Another bubble appeared.

Good.

Don’t stop.

My chest tightened.

I typed back before I could overthink it.

Breakfast later?

Only if pancakes are involved.

Deal.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and headed downstairs.

The hockey house was surprisingly quiet.

Marco was somehow asleep on the couch with one dress shoe still on.

Corey had left half a box of cereal on the kitchen counter.

Cole’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.

Probably an early workout.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and had just reached for the pancake mix when a knock echoed through the house.

“Marco!”

I called toward the living room.

“You expecting anybody?”

A muffled groan answered me.

Helpful.

I walked to the front door and pulled it open.

Every good mood I’d carried downstairs disappeared.

Richard Shaw stood on the porch.

Still dressed in an expensive suit.

Still wearing the same expression he’d worn my entire life.

Controlled.

Unreadable.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“No.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“No?”

“I have plans.”

“You can spare five minutes.”

“I really can’t.”

He looked past me into the house.

“This is about Chicago.”

That made me pause.

Not because I wanted to hear him.

Because Chicago mattered.

He noticed the hesitation immediately.

“I thought so.”

Against my better judgment…

I stepped outside and quietly closed the front door behind me.

The morning air was cool.

The neighborhood was still waking up.

A dog barked somewhere down the street.

Richard adjusted the cuff of his jacket.

“I heard about the fundraiser.”

I waited.

“Congratulations.”

I blinked.

That wasn’t what I’d expected.

“Thank you.”

“It raised quite a bit of money.”

“It did.”

Another silence.

Then…

“I also heard you spent most of the evening dancing.”

There it was.

The compliment had simply been the setup.

“I spent the evening supporting my girlfriend.”

“You spent the evening forgetting why you’re here.”

I felt something inside me remain…

Calm.

That surprised me.

A month ago, my pulse would’ve been racing.

Now…

I simply looked at him.

“You know what’s interesting?”

He frowned.

“I didn’t ask what you were doing.”

“I know.”

“I already know.”

He folded his arms.

“The scouts know too.”

I smiled faintly.

“They know I attended a charity fundraiser.”

“They know you weren’t preparing.”

I shook my head.

“I’ve been preparing my whole life.”

Richard’s jaw tightened.

“Hockey requires sacrifice.”

“It does.”

“And distractions have consequences.”

I took a slow breath.

“Harper isn’t a distraction.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“No.”

I met his eyes.

“I’m telling you.”

For the first time…

He looked caught off guard.

“You’ve changed.”

“I have.”

His expression hardened.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe.”

I shrugged.

“But it’ll be my mistake.”

He stared at me.

“I didn’t raise you to settle.”

The words hit differently now.

Not because they hurt.

Because I finally understood them.

“You didn’t.”

I nodded slowly.

“You raised me to chase excellence.”

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face.

Then I continued.

“But somewhere along the way…”

“…you forgot excellence and happiness aren’t enemies.”

Silence.

Richard looked away first.

“Happiness doesn’t last.”

“No.”

I agreed quietly.

“It doesn’t.”

“But neither do hockey careers.”

His head turned back toward me.

“I’ll be someone’s son for the rest of my life.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

“I just don’t want to spend the rest of it trying to earn something you were never willing to give.”

For the first time in my entire life…

My father didn’t have an answer.

The silence between us stretched longer than it ever had.

Finally, he spoke.

“I pushed you because I believed you could be great.”

“I know.”

“I never wanted you to hate me.”

I swallowed.

“I don’t hate you.”

His eyes searched mine.

“I just can’t keep living for you.”

Those words seemed to age him.

His shoulders lowered almost imperceptibly.

“When you leave for Chicago…”

He paused.

“…don’t waste the opportunity.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean that.”

“I know.”

He nodded once.

Then turned toward his car.

Halfway there, he stopped.

Without looking back, he said quietly,

“You look happier.”

My throat tightened.

“I am.”

Another long pause.

Then he got into his car.

I stood on the porch until the black sedan disappeared around the corner.

Only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

The front door opened behind me.

Marco stepped outside wearing one sock, one bare foot, and yesterday’s dress shirt.

He rubbed his eyes.

“…Was that your dad?”

“Yeah.”

He looked down the street.

“You okay?”

I thought about the lake.

About Coach.

About Mom.

About Harper.

About the ballroom full of people standing for the woman I loved.

Then I smiled.

“For the first time in a long time…”

“…I think I finally am.”

Marco looked at me for another second before grinning.

“Good.”

“What?”

“Because we’re making pancakes.”

I laughed.

“What do pancakes have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.”

He shrugged.

“But they sound amazing.”

I shook my head.

“You really are impossible.”

“And yet…”

He threw an arm around my shoulders as we walked back into the house.

“…you’d miss me if I wasn’t.”

He wasn’t wrong.

And somehow…

For the first time in years…

Neither was I.