I can feel Lena's attention now, a subtle shift in her posture that draws my gaze briefly before I continue.
"I met someone who seemed to understand the pressures I was facing. Someone who, I later realized, was skilled at recognizing vulnerabilities and abusing them."
I'm careful not to accuse Adam of emotional manipulation directly but to make it clear that the relationship wasn't healthy. I take a big breath and turn the paper over. “In recent days, my identity as a bisexual man has been questioned and weaponized against me. Let me be absolutely clear: Who I date doesn't change who I am. Bisexuality doesn't disappear when you're with someone of any gender. It's not a phase, and it's not a publicity stunt.
"This isn't an excuse for my actions. It's context. Hockey players are conditioned to push through pain, to never show weakness. We're taught that emotions are a liability."
I look directly at my brothers now, drawing strength from their presence.
"But they're not. They're human. And pretending otherwise doesn't make us better athletes—it just makes us more dangerous to ourselves and others. Part of being truthful about my emotions means confronting the harmful stereotypes that bisexual people face. The idea that we're somehow less committed to the LGBTQ community based on who we're dating is deeply damaging - not just to me, but to every young athlete watching who might be questioning their own identity."
I shift gears, moving to safer territory. "That's why I'm actually excited about this community service. These kids deserve to learn not just how to play hockey, but how to be whole people who happen to play hockey."
Sutton is nodding slightly, which I take as a good sign. Coach Thompson, standing near the back, looks surprisingly approving.
"The Fury organization is already leading the way in physical player safety. I hope we can lead the way in player’s emotional safety, too."
Now, I allow myself to look directly at Lena for the first time during my speech.
"We're fortunate to have professionals like Dr. Sinclair whoare innovating in player protection. Her work protects our bodies. Now, we need to do the same for our minds."
Our eyes meet briefly, and something passes between us—understanding, perhaps—or at least acknowledgment.
"I'm sorry for letting my emotions manifest in a physical way. That's not who I want to be. Not the example I want to set. But I'm not sorry for having those emotions. None of us should be."
I take a breath, concluding my unscripted remarks. "I'm looking forward to working with these kids and being part of an organization that values the whole player—body and mind. And I’m proud of the Fury's commitment to protecting our athletes at every level."
Lena rises, approaching the podium with professional composure. She gives me a small smile and I wish I could kiss her so badly. Instead, I step back, taking the seat she vacated, and watch as she presents her mouthguard program with confidence and expertise. Pride wells in my chest, alongside a deep ache of longing. She's brilliant, passionate, and completely in her element. The media is responding enthusiastically, and I notice both Sutton and Thompson nodding along with her points.
Brian slides into the seat beside me, his expression a mix of relief and lingering annoyance. "That wasn't the script," he whispers, "but... it wasn't a disaster. Nice work tackling the bi-erasure."
"I wasn't playing an angle," I reply quietly. "I meant it."
He studies me for a moment, then sighs. "I know. That's why it worked."
Lena concludes her presentation, and the moderator opens the floor for questions. Most are about the mouthguard program, and some are about my community service. I answer the questions directed to me as honestly as possible without drifting into territory that might make the organization uncomfortable.
Then, a reporter from the Press-Gazette stands. "Mr. Stag, your comments seemed to reference issues between you and Adam Lawson. Care to elaborate?"
I lean toward the microphone. “The particulars of my love life aren’t relevant to today's announcements. What's important is the work we're doing with youth hockey and player safety."
The reporter doesn't look satisfied but sits down. Another immediately rises, this one from a local TV station. She directs her question to Lena.
“It’s interesting that Mr. A Stag brings up the Fury stance on player bodiesandminds. Dr. Sinclair, there's been speculation about your personal relationship with Mr. A Stag. How do you respond?"
The room goes silent, all eyes turning to Lena. I hold my breath, knowing whatever she says next could change everything.
CHAPTER 34
LENA
The reporter'squestion hangs in the air, a ticking bomb waiting to detonate my carefully constructed professional facade. The conference room falls silent, all eyes turning to me. I can feel Alder's gaze from where he sits at the table, the weight of his attention almost physical.
Time seems to stretch as I consider my options. Should I deny everything? Should I stick to the sterile script of "we're colleagues, nothing more"? Should I redirect to the mouthguard program and ignore the personal question entirely?
Sarah's words from last night flashes in my mind:Your career and your heart both matter.
In this suspended moment, I realize that whatever I say next will define both my professional standing and my personal future. The path of least resistance would be to deny, deflect, and maintain the safe distance I've been struggling to create.
