“That’s up to CC to decide what she wants,” he said.
“I know.”
“Then what are you asking for?” Cole stared at me for a long moment. His expression didn’t soften.
My throat tightened. “I’m asking for your blessing.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Not because Catherine needs your permission,” I added quickly. “She doesn’t. She’s twenty-four. She’s smart and stubborn and fully capable of deciding what she wants. I know that.”
“Good,” Cole said, his voice flat.
“But you’re her father. You’re my coach. You trusted me, and I damaged that. I don’t want to keep building something with Catherine while pretending your hurt doesn’t matter.”
Cole’s jaw worked.
“I’m not asking you to be happy about it today,” I said. “I’m not asking you to forgive me right now. I’m asking you not to stand in her way if she chooses me.” The room went silent.
Cole turned away first. He walked to the window and stood there with his hands on his hips, staring down at the ice like itmight give him an answer. I stayed where I was, because moving felt like a mistake.
“You know what the worst part is?” he asked.
I said nothing.
“I like you.” That hit harder than if he had yelled.
He looked back at me. “I liked you before this. I trusted you. I let you into my family because I thought you were safe.”
My chest tightened.
“I am safe. I would never intentionally hurt her,” I said.
“But you did.” His words hit like a blow to the chest.
“I know, and I plan to make it up to her,” I assured him.
“And you lied,” he added.
“Yes, and I’m sorry. We wanted time for us, but I know it was the wrong move.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed slightly. I held his gaze. “Catherine and I both made choices. I made the wrong ones when it mattered. I’m trying to make the right one now.”
“And what happens if this goes badly?” he asked. “What happens if the media finds out? If people start looking at her like she didn’t earn her place?”
“I know there needs to be a professional plan. I know Tatum needs to know. Dr. Patel and Wren probably need to know. I know Catherine can’t be involved in my treatment or evaluations or anything that makes her look compromised.”
Cole’s expression shifted, just barely.
“But I’m not going to management before I talk to her,” I said. “Not like this. Not before she tells me she wants that. I’m done deciding what happens to her life without asking her first.”
For the first time since I walked into his office, Cole did not have an immediate answer.
He looked back out at the rink. “She’s been miserable.”
My hand flexed at my side. “I know. I’ve been miserable without her too. I hate that I did that to her.”
Cole’s voice lowered. “Don’t do it again.”