The line rang twice before his voice came through, sharp but even. “Colton.”
I swallowed. “Hey, Dad. I—” My fingers curled against my knee. “I need to talk to you.”
A pause. “Alright.”
I breathed in. “I’ve been a jerk. I know that. I haven’t lived up to expectations, and for a long time, I didn’t care. But—I see things differently now.”
Silence.
I forced myself to continue. “I see how hard you’ve worked. How much weight you carry. I never really thought about that before.”
Another pause. Then, quieter, “That’s good to hear.”
I ran a hand through my hair, glancing at the ceiling like it had the right words. “There’s something else. A journalist has been following me, looking for whatever headline she can twist. She baited me into talking about your land deal, and at first, I thought she tricked me—but she didn’t.” My jaw clenched. “I was too stupid to see I was being set up.”
My father’s voice remained steady. “Why is the land deal making headlines?”
I exhaled. “It’s the rescue. A dog rescue is on the land. And they don’t have anywhere else to go.”
A beat of quiet.
“They?” he asked.
“The dogs. The people who run it. The volunteers. It’s—” I rubbed at my temple. “It’s part of why I’ve changed.”
I told him everything. About the rescue, about working there, about what it meant—not just to town, but to me. About how, for the first time, I wanted to be better, not just for hockey, but for me. My future. Myself.
And then, like pulling a splinter, I ripped out the truth about Vanessa.
“I’m tired of being a pawn in her game,” I said, dropping onto the couch. I’m tired of my words getting twisted to benefit her and no one else.”
Another silence. Then, carefully, my father said, “That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say in a long time.”
The words had weight, but were fair.
He sighed, then in a softer voice. “I could’ve done better.”
It was a strange thing to hear. My father wasn’t the type to second-guess himself. Stranger still was the way I felt when I heard it.
Before I could process it, he continued. “Now that you’ve gotten your act together, Vanessa will have to work for her story. If she can’t pull it from you, she’ll invent one. That could make her more dangerous.”
It figured. Dad couldn’t let the moment sit too long before turning it into a warning. That was how he operated—always looking ahead and anticipating the next move.
But this time, I wasn’t bristling.
This was precisely what I needed.
Because I hadn’t even considered what Vanessa might do next.
I shut my eyes briefly, then opened them again. “I guess I’d be stupid to think she’ll let it go.”
“And you still think the rescue is worth sticking your neck out for?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”
A pause. Then, quiet approval. “Alright.”
That was it. No grand declarations. No dramatic reconciliation.
