Faking It With The Hockey Star

Richard’s POV

Seeing my son lying in a hospital bed with wires attached to his chest brought me back to reality so quickly that it almost hurt. For the first time in years, I couldn’t hide behind a corporate boardroom, contracts, numbers, or the company. I couldn’t tell myself that Justin was just being difficult, rebellious, troublesome, or in need of growing up. He was lying there completely still, and I was powerless to fix it.

I stared at him through the glass for several long seconds before walking into the room. The monitors beside him hummed with quiet, steady beeps as his chest rose and fell in a slow, unnatural rhythm.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I couldn’t lose another person. Not my son. I had already lost his mother, and though I had spent years convincing myself that her death wasn’t my fault, the truth had become impossible to run from. My carelessness had allowed too many terrible things to happen. I had trusted the wrong person, listened to the wrong voice, and allowed another woman to convince me that my own son was the problem. Now Justin was lying in a hospital bed because he had pushed himself until his body simply shut down.

I walked closer to the bed. He looked so much younger while sleeping. For years, I had looked at him and seen a difficult, defiant young man. Now I looked at him and saw the little boy who used to run through the house looking for me, who used to wait by the door whenever I came home, believing his father could fix anything in the world.

When did I lose him? When did I become a complete stranger to my own son?

I lowered my eyes, my voice barely audible over the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. "I am so sorry."

He couldn’t hear me, and maybe that was better. I wasn’t sure I deserved to say it to his face yet.

As the hours dragged on, the hospital grew quiet. His grandparents had gone home to rest, but Harper remained. I had watched her sitting beside him for hours, barely eating or sleeping, refusing every suggestion to leave his side. I had watched her hold his hand, cry when she thought nobody was looking, and whisper gentle words to him even though he couldn’t answer.

Seeing her there hurt almost as much as seeing my son in that bed, because it laid bare a truth I had been too blind to see: Justin wasn’t alone anymore. He had someone who genuinely loved him, someone willing to sit beside him through the worst night of his life without asking for anything in return. I didn’t know if I deserved to feel relief, but I did. At least my son had someone better than me.

I stepped back into the room later that afternoon. Harper was sitting in the exact same chair, her eyes red-rimmed and her hair slightly messy from sheer exhaustion. She was staring at Justin as if trying to physically force him to wake up.

I pulled up a chair beside her, hesitating for a moment. "Harper."

She turned to look at me, caution still guarded in her eyes. I couldn’t blame her.

"I’m not sure we’ve ever really had a proper conversation," I said softly. "I wanted to apologize."

Her expression softened slightly. "For what?"

A heavy, bitter laugh almost escaped my chest. For what? The list was endlessly long. "Everything. For what my former wife put your family through, for what I allowed to happen, for the way I treated you, and for the way I treated him."

Harper looked down at her hands. "It’s okay."

"No," I shook my head firmly. "It isn’t. I know you don’t owe me forgiveness, and I know you’re probably not comfortable talking to me."

She didn’t deny it, remaining silent.

"How is your mother?" I asked quietly.

Harper looked surprised by the question. "She’s doing better."

"Good. I heard she’s recovering."

"She is."

"I’m glad," I nodded. When the silence returned, I pushed forward, needing someone to hear the truth I had buried for years. "The last few days have made me realize how completely I was manipulated. My ex-wife had been controlling far more than I ever realized."

Harper stayed quiet as I rubbed my hands together. "I’ve spent the past few days going through documents, emails, financial records, and company correspondence. Every time I thought I’d reached the bottom, I found something else. I was an idiot."

A faint, subtle twitch touched her lips. "You’re allowed to think that."

"I’m serious," I sighed heavily. "I trusted her over my own son. I believed every story she told me about him, that he was rebellious, disrespectful, selfish, and didn’t care about the family." I rubbed my face in shame. "God, he was just a child."

Harper’s gaze softened. "He needed his father."

"I know," my voice cracked. "I know now. I should have been there."

I took a breath, remembering another realization that had chilled me to the bone. "The trip I told Justin we should go together, I’ve been looking into that too. She wanted me to take Justin on that trip, and I was supposed to sign certain documents before we left."

Harper went completely still. "What documents?"

"I don’t even know everything yet, but the person handling our arrangements at the destination was my ex-wife’s cousin. The more I investigate, the less comfortable I become. I’m honestly glad Justin refused to go."

Harper’s eyes widened with quiet terror. "So am I."

"I don’t know what would have happened if he had agreed," I whispered, staring at the floor before turning back to her. "Thank you."

She frowned. "For what?"

"For loving him," my voice softened. "I don’t know what I did to deserve a son like him, but he deserves someone who sees him, someone who doesn’t constantly question whether he’s good enough. You’ve been that person for him."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I love him."

"I know," I offered a small, sad smile. "That’s why I’m grateful. I hope he’ll come around eventually, but I don’t expect it immediately. I don’t deserve immediate forgiveness. What I want is the opportunity to be his father again, even if it takes years."

"Give him time," Harper nodded gently.

"I will." I leaned back, a strange, hollow laugh escaping me. "I’ve spent decades running a company, and now I wonder how I managed it."

"You weren’t completely terrible," she said with a faint smile. "You kept the company running."

"Until Justin takes over."

"Exactly."

"That’s all I want now," I said, watching my son. "To give him what belongs to him, so maybe I can finally rest."

My eyes drifted toward the hallway. His grandparents were not there, but I could still feel their heavy disapproval every time they looked at me. They had every right. They had protected Justin when I didn’t, fed him, and given him the home I failed to provide. I couldn’t blame them for looking at me like a threat, and I wasn’t asking for their forgiveness either. I just wanted the chance to stop making everything worse.

I looked back at Justin, my only son, the boy I had spent years pushing away. A terrifying thought clawed at my chest, forcing me to wonder if I had waited too long.

I reached toward the bed, but pulled my hand back before touching him, knowing I hadn’t earned that right yet. "I’m going to make this right," I whispered. Harper heard me, but she remained silent, and I didn’t blame her. I had made enough empty promises; this time, I had to prove it.

I looked at my son one last time, my voice cracking with raw emotion. "Just wake up, please. I don’t need you to forgive me yet. I just need you to give me a chance to become your father again."

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