Page 164 of Offside Rules

"At the game," I confirm.

"That explains a few things then."

I put down my fork.

I don’t ask whether he watched the game. My father has never missed one.

"Is that why you didn’t throw a punch?" he asks.

I look at the brace.

"I deserved it."

"Hmmm, that’s an interesting take on it," he says.

"If he needed to take the last six years out on me, so be it."

"Did you deserve it?"

"He spent years getting back on the ice because of me."

"I remember you were going after that shithead forward who’d been taking runs at your goalie."

I look at him.

"Yeah, son. I remember the game. I remember Beau moving into that play too."

"I still hit him."

"You did."

"I should’ve pulled up."

"You should have."

There’s no relief in hearing him agree.

Pops folds his arms on the table.

"But nobody sitting on our side of the glass thought you went out there planning to hurt Beau."

"It doesn’t change what happened."

"No. It changes what you keep telling yourself about it though. You’ve been living with what Beau accused you of, not what you know happened. It was an accident that he took the hit."

I look away and he lets me sit with that for a moment.

"Was Wednesday about giving him something you thought he deserved," he asks, "or were you hoping that once he got it out of his system, he’d let you be with his sister?"

My jaw tightens.

"I don’t know."

"Yeah, you do. Think about it."

I push my plate back.

"I didn’t want to hurt him again."