Author's Note: Been a few months. The winter festival takes place sometime in February. This means the events of Chapter 15 are in late January or early February. The playoffs started in late February. Given how everyone is dressed in the last scene of D1, I'm thinking early spring. This chapter is in early summer. So, about four-ish months along. Have a much longer chapter following this one.
Bombay lay in the dim light of his room, the memories of last night still buzzing in his head. He glanced at Casey beside him, her hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo. They had spent the night tangled in sheets, and for a moment, he almost felt normal. But as the morning sun crept through the curtains, an unease settled in his chest.
He should be happy. They had shared something — a night of passionate sex. But a familiar voice in the back of his mind whispered doubts. Why did it take the haze of drugs or alcohol to feel this? Why was he still searching for answers when he knew he was about to ruin this?
As he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her, memories from the previous night flashed in his mind. The way she looked at him, the stolen kisses, the moment when everything fell away, and it was just them. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a current of fear that he couldn't shake. He was a fraud. He didn't deserve any of this - a beautiful and kind woman, a boy who loved him unconditionally. A pre-made family that he was oh-so-easily able to step into. A dream job. He couldn't think of anything he did to deserve any of this.
Bombay moved to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He stared out the window, watching the world come alive outside. He often thought of his father, who had been taken from this world way too soon, and his mother, whose need for connection had driven her to find solace in the bottle and someone else's arms, in fear of being alone in her grief rather than to comfort her only son.
Bombay didn't want to be like her, yet here he was—using alcohol and drugs to bridge the gap.
Casey stirred, and he turned to see her propped on one elbow, looking at him with a sleepy smile.
"Hey, where are you going?" she asked, her voice soft and inviting.
"Just getting some water," he replied, forcing a smile. "Want some?"
"Sure," she said, sliding out of bed. As she walked toward him, he felt an impulse to retreat. He had never been good at this—at letting someone in without the armour of booze or drugs. He wanted to be honest, but the words remained unspoken.
"Last night was fun," Casey smirked, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah," he replied, handing her a glass of water.
Casey finished the glass and set it on the counter.
Bombay felt the need to escape, to process everything that had happened.
"Hey, I think I need some air," he said suddenly. "Do you mind if I step outside?"
Outside, the crisp morning air hit him like a splash of cold water. He leaned against the railing, taking deep breaths, trying to ground himself. Why did intimacy terrify him? The more he liked her, the more he felt the need to hide.
His pager buzzed in his pocket, and he glanced at it—just a message from Orion suggesting they hit the gym. It would be easy to say yes, an excuse to take his frustrations out on a heavy bag. But what about Casey? What if he lost this chance to really connect with her?
Bombay ran a hand through his hair, frustration boiling inside. He needed help, but confronting his emotions felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. He wanted to jump, to take the leap and be vulnerable, but what if he fell?
He heard the door behind him creak open and turned to see her standing there, concern etched on her face. "Gordon, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said, forcing a laugh. "Just thinking."
"About what?" she pressed, stepping closer.
He hesitated, the truth hanging heavy in the air.
"About…us."
Her eyes softened, and she took a step closer - taking his hand in hers. "What is it, Gordon?"
Bombay exhaled deeply. He tried to find the words to tell Casey about what had happened in the bathroom last night, but the words wouldn't come.
Casey, noticing Bombay's discomfort, squeezed his hand. "Whatever it is, you can tell me? Do you have to go away again?
Bombay shook his head. "No, nothing like that."
The two of them stood in an uncomfortable silence. After a few minutes, Bombay spoke;
"Can I ask you something?" he said, his voice steady but laced with uncertainty.
"Sure."
Bombay had a speech prepared in his head. He wanted to tell her that he had been sober for months now and that he had worked so hard, but last night, he slipped. But nothing he could come up with sounded good enough. Instead, he changed the subject.
"What was your ex like?"
Casey's expression shifted slightly as she considered the question. While she had met Bombay's ex, or whatever it was they had, she had not anticipated the question from Bombay. He did not seem like the jealous type.
"He was charming at first," Casey said carefully. "I think my mother liked him more than I did. But when he found out I already had a son..."
Bombay frowned. Charlie had told him about something similar.
"I meant Charlie's father," Bombay clarified. "Charlie told me you left him, but he doesn't remember anything else."
Casey went quiet. " ."
Bombay sensed Casey's unease. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," Bombay said.
"He was irresponsible," she said, her voice steady but edged with emotion. "At first, it was charming. He was carefree, living for the moment. He couldn't hold a job for more than a few months. Every time he'd find something, he'd eventually get fired because he'd show up to work drunk. Or worse."
Bombay felt his stomach sink with every word. But Casey went on.
"It was exhausting. I worked double shifts to make ends meet and went to school at the same time while he drifted from job to job. He didn't want to take responsibility for anything, including being a father. Once he found out I was pregnant, he told me he didn't want a baby and that I'd be on my own if I decided to keep Charlie."
Bombay's heart sank. Not just for Casey but for Charlie as well.
"Did he ever try to contact Charlie?" Gordon asked, concerned.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "He never made an effort."
"But Charlie said..." Bombay's voice trailed off.
"I told Charlie that," Casey said. "So he wouldn't have to feel bad about his father leaving him."
Casey could feel a catch in her throat. "I told Charlie the truth not too long ago. I couldn't lie to him anymore. Lying is the worst. His father used to lie all the time. He would promise that he would stop drinking and doing drugs and find a job. This was before I found out I was pregnant. I don't know why I stayed with him so long in the first place, but he was the first man to tell me that he loved me, and I guess that meant something. Then, one day after I told him about Charlie, he left for good while I was at work. I promised myself - never again- I'd be with someone like that."
The pain in her eyes made Bombay's chest tighten. He couldn't shake the feeling that if she knew the truth about him, she would see him in the same light as her ex—a man not worthy.
Neither of them spoke. Bombay felt a wave of shame wash over him. He longed to wrap his arms around her, but something held him back. He wanted to express his feelings, to tell her that Charlie's father was foolish for leaving them. He wished he could promise her that she'd never have to work another double shift and that he'd take care of them both once he made it to the NHL. Most of all, he wanted to confess his love for her—for her and Charlie, he loved them both—but fear kept him silent. He was terrified of being rejected, of not being enough. So, he just stood there, paralyzed, not able to move.
"Where is he now?" Bombay said, breaking the silence.
Casey sighed, exasperated. "I don't want to open that old wound."
"I haven't had any luck locating him using traditional methods," Bombay confessed.
Casey spun around. "You tried to contact my ex behind my back?"
Bombay was taken aback. "We talked about this," Bombay said defensively. " If I'm going to adopt Charlie one day, we're going to need to remove him from the birth certificate."
Casey went quiet. She was furious. Bombay had no right. "You should have told me," Casey insisted.
The colour drained from his face. "I never meant to upset you," Bombay apologized. "I'll stop looking if you want."
Satisfied with Bombay's response, Casey wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. "He's in Omaha. At least, that's where his parents lived at the time. I haven't heard from him in years so he could be anywhere now."
Gordon gently touched her arm. "Are you sure you are okay with this?"
Casey nodded. "I'm sure. Good luck finding him. I gave up long ago."
Bombay raised an eyebrow at Casey's words. "You went looking for him?"
"I had to. I went to apply for section eight housing, and my worker at the time told me I had to go after him for child support. He never showed up," Casey confessed.
"He's never paid child support?" Bombay asked. "Not once?"
Casey shook her head. "Can't get blood out of a stone," she said bluntly. "He's the type of man who is only found when he wants to be found."
"What would make him want to be found?" Bombay asked, genuinely curious.
Casey let out a huff. "Finding out he doesn't have to pay child support anymore."
Bombay decided he had had enough fresh air and went back inside. "You coming, Cas?"
"I'll be in in a bit," Casey said. "Just want to relax out here. Do you got any coffee?"
"I'll make you some," Bombay offered as he went inside.
Bombay closed the glass door behind him and started making a pot of coffee. It was then he noticed a blinking light on his answering machine.
Perplexed, he reached over and pressed the button.
"Hi, Gordon. It's me, Tracy. … I'm calling ...I need to talk to you. I just found out that I'm pregnant. I'm really scared right now. I don't know what to do... If you could call me back ..."