Page 177 of Over the Line
“No. You should’ve known you could tell me anything, no matter what. The fact that you didn’t—that’s on me as a father. And I’m sorry for that.”
Well, fuck. My dad hadn’t seen or heard me cry in years, but that changed tonight. I couldn’t hold it back. I hadn’t realized how much my fear of disappointing or disgusting my dad had been weighing on me until he’d gently knocked that weight off my shoulders. Even while so much in my world was a fucking mess right now, I let myself indulge in this relief that I hadn’t known I’d been needing for decades.
When I could finally speak again, I said, “Thanks. I, uh… I needed to hear that.”
“You’re welcome, kid. I’m sorry it took so long.” He paused. “How is Chris taking everything?”
“Not well.” I swiped at my eyes again and sniffed. “He shouldn’t have had to find out the way he did. It was so fucking public, and… God, he’s so upset.”
“That’s a shame. Do you know who outed you?”
Anger flared in my chest. “I have a good guess, yeah. I still don’t know how he found out, but… I mean, it doesn’t really matter. The damage is done.”
“It is. But those teams have great PR departments for a reason. And even with all this hullaballoo about you two dating, you haven’t done anything wrong. It was a shock for Chris and—well, for everyone, I suppose. But you haven’t broken any rules, have you?”
“No.” I laughed dryly. “The League never thought to make a rule banning players from dating their teammates’ dads, I guess.”
Dad chuckled. “No, I suppose they didn’t. Listen. This isn’t a disaster like when your marriage blew up. Nobody’s done anything wrong, aside from whoever outed you. Take a breath. Get some sleep. Talk to your son.” He paused. “You’re a good dad, Garrett. You made some mistakes, but you always tried your damnedest to be a good father, and I think you did better there than you think. All isn’t lost, okay?”
I was about to cry again, but I pulled it together enough to whisper, “From your lips to God’s ears, right?”
He gave one of those quiet, knowing laughs I remembered from my childhood, and I swore I could almost feel him giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll work out. It might be rough for a little while, but you and Chris will be fine. So will you and Liam.”
“I hope so,” I whispered.
“You will.” He paused. “And I assume I’ll get a chance to meet this boyfriend of yours at some point?”
The laughter that poured out of me then felt good. Even more of a relief than breaking down crying a moment ago.
“The off season is coming up. I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Good. Take it easy, Garrett. You’ll be okay.”
“Thanks. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, son.”
We ended the call, and now that I was truly alone, I let the emotions all come crashing through me. The fear I was losing my son and my boyfriend. The relief that my father still loved me after he’d found out I was queer. Everything from the last several hours, the last few years, the last few decades—it all hit me at once, and what could I do but feel it all?
I’d fully expected a sleepless night after everything that had happened earlier. By the time I gave in, silenced my phone, and fell into bed, though, exhaustion took over.
And the last clear thought I had before I fell asleep was that I hoped my dad was right.
I hoped Chris, Liam, and I would all be okay.
CHAPTER 43
LIAM
Unsurprisingly, my ass was summoned into our general manager’s office before practice the next morning.
Still raw, still humiliated, still utterly devastated and angry and hurt, I headed upstairs instead of into the locker room. Was he going to bench me? Suspend me? Tell me the team had collectively demanded he oust me?
It probably wasn’t that catastrophic—or wouldn’t be as long as Chris and I could coexist—but I was still nervous about it. And oh, fuck, I dreaded my first media scrum after this. Would it be too much to ask Travis to keep me away from reporters until this died down? Probably.
Well, first things first—our GM.
“Have a seat, Saints,” Gil said, sounding less than pleased to see me.
