"I want to get your blessing," I continue. "It matters to Elena, which means it matters to me."
He lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "You've got balls, I'll give you that."
"Sir—"
"Let me talk." He leans forward, elbows on the desk. "Elena is everything to me."
I nod, but keep my mouth shut.
"She's brilliant. Kind. Could have done anything with her life, and she chose to help people like you—athletes with more talent than sense."
The barb stings, but I don't rise to it. He's not wrong, at least about the man I used to be.
"You don't deserve her," he continues, his voice hard. "But I do see the changes you're making."
That catches me off guard. "You do?"
"You're passing more, fighting less. Taking younger players under your wing."
He's been noticing. All this time, I thought he was just waiting for me to screw up again.
"She makes me want to be better," I admit. "But I'm doing it for myself too. The therapy, the changes—they're not just for her."
Coach nods slowly. "That's good. That's what I needed to hear."
"So..." I shift in my seat. "Your blessing?"
He barks a short laugh. "You think it's that easy, huh?"
"No, sir." I meet his eyes again. "But I love your daughter. I'm going to be with her whether you approve or not. I'd just rather do it with your blessing than without it."
The word "love" hangs in the air between us. I've never said it out loud before—not to Elena, not to anyone. But it's true.
Coach stands abruptly, walking to the window that overlooks the practice rink. His back is to me when he speaks again.
"She’s happy with you. Happier than I've heard her in a long time."
Hope flickers in my chest. "She makes me happy too."
"I don't doubt that." He crosses his arms. "But happiness isn't enough, Barnes. Relationships take work. Commitment. Sacrifice. Are you ready for that?"
"Yes," I say with absolutely zero hesitation.
He studies me for a long moment. "I won't stand in your way," he says finally. "But hear me clearly—don't hurt her. I willhunt you downif you do that."
The threat isn’t empty. His gaze is intense, determined—the same expression he wears when we're down by one in the final minutes of a game.
"I won't." I stand, meeting him at eye level. "I promise."
He extends his hand, and I shake it, his grip firm enough to make a point. "Now get out of here. And don’t think you’re getting any special treatment because you're dating my daughter."
I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "Wouldn't even think it, Coach."
At the door, I pause. "Thank you. This means a lot to both of us."
He waves me off, already turning back to the work on his desk. "Just make her happy, Barnesy. That's all I ask."
"I will," I say, and I fucking mean it.
