Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

I couldn’t breathe.

The words on my screen blurred together, but I didn’t need to read them twice. The message was clear enough. For a long moment, I just stood there. The little instant camera was still in my hand. A few seconds ago I had been imagining Justin laughing as he took blurry pictures of Mason and his other friends during practice. Now all I could see was that message. That damn awful message

My thumb hovered over the screen. I should ignore him. That’s what I had done every other time. Pretend he didn’t exist. Pretend the messages didn’t hurt. Pretend I didn’t care. Maybe he will grow tired and return to his clearly perfect life.

I closed my eyes. Then I opened our conversation. Message after message filled the screen. Most of them unanswered. Some of them weeks apart. Others only days. Each one seemed uglier than the last. He was really going all out with each message, knowing the right spot to hit

Ungrateful. Just like your mother.

That hockey boy will leave you like I left your awful mother.

You’re embarrassing yourself playing camera woman right

You are a disgrace and that is why I left you.

I scrolled. Then I scrolled some more. How many times had I read these and said nothing? How many times had I convinced myself that replying would only make things worse?

A memory surfaced before I could stop it. I was twelve. Emma was asleep beside me. Noah was only a little boy. The house had been quiet. Until it wasn’t.

My mother’s voice. Soft at first. Then crying. Dad shouting. I couldn’t make out every word, but I remembered the ones that mattered. You’re useless. Do you think you can survive without me? You are nothing without me Just a stupid girl playing wife. Then a sharp sound, so loud it echoed through the hallway. I remembered pulling the blanket over Emma’s ears. I remembered Noah waking up and asking me why Mommy was crying. I remembered lying. It’s okay. She’s just sick, daddy is helping her.

She wasn’t sick that night. She was far from sick, She was scared. And so was I, but I was too little to help.

I blinked, forcing the memory away. My fingers tightened around my phone. No. I wasn’t twelve anymore. I wasn’t hiding behind a bedroom door anymore. He didn’t get to keep talking to us like this. Not anymore.

I pressed Reply. For a few seconds I stared at the empty message box. Then I started typing.

Stop contacting me FATHER!!!.

I paused. Deleted nothing. Kept going.

You walked away from us years ago. You don’t get to come back into our lives just because I’m dating someone you suddenly find interesting or better than you.

My fingers moved faster. Years of words I had buried finally found somewhere to go.

I remember more than you think I do. I remember hearing Mom cry. I remember hearing you call her worthless, I remember you calling her names and saying every awful name I can imagine. I remember hearing you tell her to be quiet so we wouldn’t wake up.But I was awake, and so was Emma and Noah, I remember the slap.

A tear rolled down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it away.

I was twelve years old. I heard everything.

My vision blurred.

You abandoned us when Mom needed you the most. Harper, Emma, Noah, and Mom survived without you. We will keep surviving without you. So you don’t get to come back and act like our saviour. You have a new family now. Focus on them. Be the husband and father to them that you never were to us.

My thumb hesitated above the keyboard. Then I added the last part.

If you contact me or my family again, I’ll stop protecting your reputation. I’ll save every message. I’ll file a police report if I have to. I’ll send everything to your wife. I’ll tell the truth. Stay away from my mother. Stay away from my brother. Stay away from my sister. Stay away from me. Goodbye.

I read the message once. Twice. For the first time, I didn’t feel guilty. I pressed Send. The message disappeared. Delivered.I wonder if this will work and keep him away from us. I had finally said what I have been holding in for years now

I stared at the screen. Nothing happened. No thunder. No panic attack. No regret. Just silence from his end. A strange, unfamiliar silence. It felt like taking a full breath after holding it for years.

"Harper?"

Ava’s voice pulled me back. I looked up. The smile that had been on my face all afternoon was gone. Both Ava and Mia were watching me, concern replacing the laughter in their eyes.

Without saying a word, I held out my phone. Ava took it first. As she read, her expression shifted from confusion to shock, then to something else entirely. Respect. She handed the phone to Mia. Mia read every word slowly. When she finished, she looked at me for a long moment.

Then she stepped forward. "I’m proud of you," she said.

My throat tightened. "You are?"

She nodded. "You didn’t insult him. You didn’t beg him. You didn’t let him manipulate you. You told the truth."

Ava suddenly grinned. "You know what this deserves?"

I blinked. "What?"

She raised her hand. "A victory high-five."

I laughed through the tears. "Seriously?"

"Very seriously," she said.

I shook my head, smiling despite myself, and slapped my palm against hers. Smack. "There we go," she said, pulling me into a hug before I could protest. "You did it. You finally chose yourself."

Mia joined the hug a second later. "No more carrying him around in your head," she said quietly.

I closed my eyes. For years I’d been waiting for my father to become the man I remembered from childhood. Today I finally accepted that he never would. And somehow that hurt less than I thought it would. Because for the first time, I wasn’t waiting for him anymore.

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