He recoils. “And you clearly forgot to tell me—hence why I had no clue I’ve had a daughter for the past two years—”
I cut in to correct him, “She’s eighteen months. And I was there with Mack.”
Placing my hands on Griff’s shoulders, I say, “I was there that night with Mack when she told you. After seeing you when we got there, I should’ve never let her tell you by herself. I’d never seen you like that, man. It was like you had taken everything under the kitchen sink—you were crazy. She said she told you everything, and you laughed in her face and told her to get the fuck out of there.
“You were in no place to bring a child into this world. Mack was so terrified after that night that she contemplated giving the baby up for adoption instead of keeping her.” Flashbacks of that night still haunt me. I take a deep breath and continue, “I got her out of there and got her home as quickly as we could. The moment she saw Cadence, the light came back into her eyes. Shit, she changed all of our lives for the absolute best.”
She’s everything, and instead of being the man I thought you were, you didn’t just push them away—you threw them away.
“Apparently, everyone but me—her father. Jesus Christ, I have a daughter,” he chokes out the words. “After everything we’d been through, did you think I didn’t deserve another chance to know?” he asks Mack.
Her dark expression tells me precisely how she feels about his remark. A twin look of confusion passes between the two of us.What does he mean he didn’t know?
“Can I see her?” he pleads.
“That wasn’t the only attempt I made to tell you about her. I called you on the night she was born,” Mack states, her voice trembling.
“When? If you called on the day she was born, I would have remembered. I got my shit together after that night in Boston. My dad came the next day, took one look at me, and I started therapy that same day. I haven’t touched drugs or drank in excess since that night.” His admission eases some of the aches in my chest. I should hate him for what he did to Mack and Cadence. I should hate him for not only throwing them away but also our lifelong friendship. But, fuck, I’ve missed him.
“I did tell you again. I called you from Carson’s phone on the night she was born, but like every other attempt, it went to voicemail. So I texted you and told you that I had a girl and to call me. I took one look at her beautiful face inside the incubator they had her in, and I knew I had to tell you at least she existed. That you had a daughter who was a perfect little fighter,” Mack tells him.
“Fuck. Goddammit,” he curses.
“What?” we both ask in unison.
“When was she born?”
“March 29th,” Mack says.
“As in right before the Frozen Four?” he questions.
“Yes, Griffin,” she growls out.
“McKenna, shit, I’m sorry. I can’t say for certain if I was in the right headspace to pick up the phone or not at that time, but I honestly didn’t have my phone anymore. I gave it up after that night in Boston when I started therapy. My agent, Jared, had it, and he hired a publicist to take over my social media accounts. I still haven’t been on social media in almost two years, which explains how I didn’t know until today that you even had a child.”
He could follow her on her socials all he wants, but it’s one of Mack’s top priorities to keep Cadence out of the media. A school reporter approached her last year, wanting to do a piece featuring Mack’s life as a mother and college athlete. She immediately refused, and I couldn’t agree more with her decision to make Cadence’s privacy a top priority. It’s become one of mine too.
“I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around everything. Why did you choose to disconnect your phone?” she asks.
“My therapist suggested blocking out things that triggered my anxiety and panic attacks I was having at the time. One major trigger for me was my old phone because of the photos on it and the social media memories that would come up. Every time I felt like I was coming up for a breath of air, a memory popped up on my phone, letting the grief resurface and pull me back under. So, I handed it over to Jared. He would tell me if anything major came up, but my dad, my coach, and my teammates all had my new number, so I didn’t really use it much. I disconnected my old number when I signed with Colorado after the Frozen Four. I didn’t think to check my messages with the chaos of moving.”
Is literally everyone seeing a therapist besides me at this point? I watch as they continue to ping pong questioning jabs back and forth.
“I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to believe you when the timing came literally days after I called to tell you about her, Griffin.”
“And you don’t think I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I just now found out I have a daughter?”
“If I have to try to be understanding of your situation, you need to try to put yourself in my shoes.”
Feeling like I’m interrupting a pivotal conversation, I quietly back out of the room and into the hallway, shutting the door behind me. I try to take a deep breath to ease some of the anxiety flooding me, but my chest is tight with fear and anger.
I’m shocked that Griffin didn’t remember his conversation with McKenna about her pregnancy. All this time, I was sure he pushed aside his responsibilities and chose to abandon them. I’m riddled with guilt, knowing I didn’t push Mack to reach out to him again, that I didn’t just force his hand. If I had, I know I wouldn’t have had to force him into anything.
The Griff I knew growing up was fiercely loyal and one of the most accountable guys I played hockey with.In my heart, I should’ve known he would never willingly abandon his child.
Fuck.
I rub at the tightness in my chest, willing it to subside when my phone buzzes with a text message notification.
