One Pucking Secret (One Pucking #1)

Chapter 19

Chloe

I sit across from Janelle, the tension thick enough to slice through. Her eyes narrow, reflecting a storm of fury that sends a chill down my back.

“Chloe,” she begins, her voice clipped. “What’s going on with Wyatt? This article… it’s everywhere. You need to explain.”

My throat goes dry as I swallow hard, fighting the urge to shrink under her gaze. “It’s true,” I admit, feeling the weight of my confession settle heavily in the air between us. “Jasper is Wyatt’s son.”

The silence stretches out, a taut wire ready to snap.

“Is that why you hesitated to take him on?” Janelle leans forward, intensity radiating from her. “It wasn’t because you were a fan?”

“Yes,” I reply quietly, shame washing over me. “Wyatt wasn’t aware that he was a father. We hadn’t seen each other since Jasper’s conception. I was anxious about meeting him for the first time in eight years.”

“So, why didn’t you disclose this information before you took him on as a client? Chloe, if I’d known—if you’d been honest—I could’ve assigned someone else.”

“I know.” I lower my head, well aware that I should have been straightforward about all of this from the beginning. “Because I wanted a shot at becoming VP.”

“Honesty is part of professionalism!” Janelle’s tone rises, cutting through my excuses like a knife. “And now look where we are.” She shakes her head, disappointment etched into every line of her face. “These photos, your relationship with Wyatt—it puts us in a difficult position.”

“I can fix this,” I rush out, desperation clawing at me. “I can still work on his image. I know what to do!”

“It’s too late for that,” she states flatly, each word laced with finality. “You need to be taken off the case for your own sake—and Jasper’s and Wyatt’s.”

A rush of panic floods my chest as reality sinks in. “But— ”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snaps back with a wave of her hand. “You’re suspended for two weeks.”

The room spins slightly as my heart drops into my stomach.

“Janelle…” I start, but find no words left.

She cuts me off again, softer now, but still firm. “I wish you would’ve trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry,” I manage to whisper, feeling like I’ve let everyone down—not just Janelle, but Wyatt and Jasper too.

“Leave now,” she instructs gently yet resolutely.

“I understand. Thank you, Janelle,” I manage, my voice steady. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

As I rise from my seat, emotions churn inside me—fear of losing everything I’ve worked for and the pain of knowing that I’ve betrayed not just myself but everyone who matters most.

I turn away, the heels of my shoes clicking a solemn march out of what was once a sanctuary of ambition.

I stride through the now alien landscape of cubicles and office chatter, my pulse thrumming in sync with each step. I’m grateful my fall came on a weekend, so I’m spared the whispers behind hands and screens, painting me as a spectacle more than I’ve ever been under these fluorescent lights.

The phone in my pocket vibrates again, insistent, but I ignore it, letting the static of unread texts and missed calls accumulate like snowfall. I’m in the eye of a storm I’ve unwittingly brewed, where calm is only an illusion, and judgment waits with bated breath.

I’m just about to reach my office when a familiar voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Chloe!”

I turn to see Lainey springing from her cubicle, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. Before I can even say anything, she envelops me in a tight hug.

“Hey,” I mumble, wrapping my arms around her instinctively. It feels good to have someone care, even if just for a moment. “What are you doing here on a Sunday?” I ask, pulling back slightly to look at her.

“I had a proposal to work on,” she replies. “But I’m too distracted at home. What’s going on? Is it the article?”

I let out a shaky breath. “I got suspended.”

“Because of the article?”

“And for hiding the truth about Wyatt.”

“I’m so sorry, Chloe. ”

“No. Janelle is right,” I confess. “I shouldn’t have taken on Wyatt’s case. It was reckless—getting involved with him again.” The guilt washes over me like ice water. “Now it’s not just his image that’s ruined. Jasper is caught in the crossfire too.”

Lainey shakes her head softly, concern etched into her features. “You’re not selfish for wanting something more.”

“No,” I counter sharply, frustration bubbling up inside me. “I should’ve known better.” My voice trembles as I admit it. “I’m the one who put Jasper at risk.”

“It’ll all work out,” Lainey insists gently, squeezing my shoulder as if trying to ground me in this chaos.

“I don’t know.”

“You should talk to Wyatt,” Lainey urges, unwavering in her belief that we can fix this together.

“I can’t.” My chest constricts as panic flares inside me. “It’s better to keep my distance for now.”

Lainey’s eyes widen slightly, as if trying to understand where I’m coming from.

“I won’t keep him from seeing Jasper,” I add quickly, though doubt lingers in my mind. “But going out together isn’t safe right now—not until it gets under control.”

My heart aches with every word, knowing that keeping them apart might be what protects us all in the end—even if it hurts like hell.

“I feel like I’m failing him, Lainey. It’s like… I’ve got no power here, no way to shield him.”

“Shh.” Lainey’s fingers weave through my hair. “You’re his rock, Chlo. You’ll get through this. For him.”

She pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze firm. “You’re stronger than you think. Jasper knows that. We all do.” Her thumb catches a tear, wiping it away with a touch as tender as a whisper.

The air in my office feels thick, a viscous mixture of disappointment and dread. I swipe at the stubborn tears that blur my vision. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut as if it might shield me from reality. “And then there’s the matter of my promotion, which I know I’ve blown. God, is that a selfish thing to say?”

Lainey’s hand is warm against my cheek, her touch steadying. “You’ve worked hard for that promotion. And I’m sure you’re still in the running. ”

I shake my head, the movement jagged with disbelief. “There’s no way,” I insist, the words scraping my throat raw. “Janelle seemed… disappointed in me.” Years of dedication, of late nights and too-early mornings, flash before me like a mocking slideshow. “I’ve worked here for years, and I’ve never gotten that look from her before.”

“She’ll get over it,” Lainey assures me, but her voice holds a tremble that betrays uncertainty. “I’m sure if you can prove that you’ve got the situation under control—”

“Lainey, my job was to rehab Wyatt’s image.” My laugh is bitter, humorless. “This is the complete opposite of my goal.”

“Just focus on you and Jasper right now, okay? This mess can be fixed.” She pauses, and when she continues, her conviction is clear as a bell. “And you know you can call me for anything. I love the hell out of you and Jasp.”

Gratitude swells within me, a buoyant force. “Thanks, Lainey.” My heart may be splintering, but having her for a friend is the glue holding the pieces together.

“Where’s Jasper?”

“He’s at my parents’ house. I was supposed to pick him up, but then Janelle called. ”

“Why don’t I go get him? I doubt you’ll want to explain everything to your parents before you’ve had a chance to talk with Wyatt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” she reassures me, and heads toward the door. “Go home.”

“I owe you again, Lainey.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says with a wave over her shoulder.

Once she’s gone, I take a look around my office. The walls are lined with accolades and framed success, each one a bitter reminder of what I’ve jeopardized.

Turning off the light, I let the door close with a soft click behind me, stepping out from the remnants of my career into an uncertain next two weeks.

When I arrive at my apartment, Wyatt looms before my door, a solitary figure half cloaked in shadow, his broad shoulders squared against the world.

“Chloe, is everything okay?” he asks. “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning. ”

I can’t hold back the heaviness in my chest. “I—” I stammer, my thoughts racing. “I got suspended.”

“Fuck, Chloe. I’m sorry.”

I finally guide the key into the lock and twist it, pushing the door open to the familiar safety of my space.

“It’s my fault,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “We shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

He follows me in, the door shutting out the world outside.

The tears start to prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. “Not only did I not help you fix your image… I ruined it more,” I confess, my voice shaking. “And now Jasper is caught in all this mess.” The weight of it crushes me, feeling utterly helpless.

“I’ll fix it,” Wyatt insists fiercely, stepping closer as if he can shield me from this turmoil with just his presence. “I’ll work with Janelle or whoever we need to get this sorted out.”

“We should stop seeing each other for now.” Saying it feels like cutting off a limb, but deep down, it seems necessary.

“Chloe…” His voice softens, but the plea is clear in his gaze. “Don’t think like that.” His tone shifts. Desperation seeps into his words. He steps forward again, catching my eye with an intensity that makes my heart race despite everything unraveling around us.

“Please don’t give up on us.” His plea lingers in the air between us—a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters.

“Jasper will be home soon,” I say finally, breaking the tension that feels like it might suffocate us both.

The moment Jasper’s name slips from my lips, reality crashes back in. I’d been trying so hard to shield him from this, from everything. He’s innocent in all this chaos, and now more than ever, I need to protect him at all costs.

Wyatt’s gaze sharpens, concern etched on his face. “Do you want me to leave?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

I shake my head quickly, biting my lip as I try to steady myself. “No,” I reply softly. “But we need to drop this discussion about us.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, each syllable laced with regret. I look down at my hands, clenched tightly together on the countertop. This is so much harder than I anticipated.

“Chloe…” He takes a step closer, frustration simmering beneath his calm facade. “We can’t just ignore what’s happening between us.”

I glance up at him, our eyes locking for a brief moment before I look away again. “Wyatt,” I say gently but firmly, “we have to focus on Jasper right now.” My voice wavers slightly as I continue. “I think it’s time to tell him the truth before he hears about it at school.”

“You’re right,” he finally concedes, his voice quiet but resolute. “We should tell him.”

We stand there for a moment, two people caught in the eye of an emotional hurricane. The walls around us could come crumbling down, but right now, this is what we need to do.

Just then, a text from Lainey comes through.

Lainey: We’re out front.

Chloe: Be right down.

I peer up at Wyatt. “I’ll go get Jasper. You can stay here.”

He nods as I slide my phone into my back pocket and head into the hallway. Once I’m downstairs, I move through the lobby swiftly, Lainey’s navy sedan visible as it idles out front.

Lainey is already helping Jasper out of his booster seat when I step outside and make my way over to them.

“Mommy!” His voice is a beacon as he spots me, and within moments, his small, sturdy body crashes into mine.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, my voice steady despite the tremor of nerves underneath. We walk hand in hand, the distance to our apartment shrinking with each step.

“Thanks again, Lainey. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all. And I don’t think your parents suspect a thing,” she tells me in a hushed voice.

“They’re not big media junkies. I’ll be sure to call them soon. Jasper, can you tell Lainey thank you for bringing you home?”

Jasper faces Lainey. “Thank you for the ride home.”

“Anytime, buddy.” She gives him a pat on the head, then shoots me a wink. “Good luck,” she mouths, then heads around to the driver’s seat.

“Guess what, honey?” I begin, waiting for the spark of curiosity in his eyes as Lainey drives away. “Wyatt’s at our place.”

“Really?” Jasper’s excitement sends ripples through our linked hands. “Can we play hockey in the hallway again?”

“Maybe later,” I chuckle, squeezing his hand gently. “But first, we have something we want to tell you, Jasper.”

His pace slows, blue eyes searching mine. “You do?”

I nod, the weight of the coming conversation pressing down on me like the thickening evening air. “But it has to wait until we get inside.”

He nods, trust written all over his young face. Inside, the walls of my apartment promise shelter, not just from the whispers of curious neighbors but also from the sea of questions sure to follow. For now, with Jasper’s warm hand in mine, I focus on the safety of the present step, then the next, leading us home.

The door clicks shut behind us, sealing off the clamor of the world. I lead Jasper by the hand into our living room where Wyatt waits, his muscular frame occupying the space with a quiet tension. He looks up from his perch on the armrest, blue eyes hopeful, the lines of worry etched around them softening as he spots Jasper.

“Hey, buddy,” Wyatt’s voice is a low rumble, warm like a hearth fire in winter.

Anxious and eager, we settle onto the couch. The moment stretches, like a rubber band pulled to its limit, and I break the silence.

“Jasper, there’s something important we need to talk about.” My words hang between us, a fine mist of uncertainty.

Jasper’s small brow furrows, his gaze flitting between Wyatt and me. “Is everything okay?” The question is brimming with innocence and concern.

I exchange a glance with Wyatt, finding an unspoken agreement in his steady gaze. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I assure him, my voice a gentle anchor.

“Jasper, Wyatt has been a part of your life for a while now,” I start, the truth trembling on my lips. “We have some news we’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you see, Wyatt isn’t just a friend of ours. He’s actually family.”

“Family?” Jasper’s blue eyes widen, mirroring Wyatt’s, as if seeing a reflection of himself for the first time.

“Wyatt is your dad.”

“My dad?” The word is tentative, testing. “But if Wyatt is my dad, why hasn’t he been here since I was a baby?”

Wyatt leans forward, elbows on knees, the distance between them shrinking. “I didn’t know about you until recently,” he admits, the weight of those words heavy and sincere. “But I’m here now, and that’s what matters.”

Jasper’s small brow furrows in confusion, his young mind grappling with the new information. “But why didn’t you know about me?” he asks, his voice tinged with hurt.

Wyatt sighs, his expression pained. “It’s complicated, Jasper. Your mom and I… We weren’t together when you were born. Your mom tried to contact me. It was a miscommunication.”

“Why?” Jasper persists. “Didn’t you want to know about me?”

“I did,” Wyatt says softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “But sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to. And your mom made the decision she thought was best for you.”

Jasper’s eyes well up with tears. “So you didn’t want me?” he asks, his voice cracking.

“No, Jasper, that’s not true,” Wyatt says quickly. “I want you. I’m here now because I want to be a part of your life. I want to get to know you and be here for you.”

Jasper’s shoulders slump. “But why didn’t you try to find me sooner?”

My heart aches, knowing neither of us can erase the years of absence.

“I wish I had, Jasper,” he admits, his voice thick with regret. “But I’m here now, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it right. ”

“Honey, this is all my fault.” I place my hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “I should have continued to try to reach Wyatt. And I should have told him as soon as I found him again. Mommy should have been honest from the beginning. I made a mistake, and I hope that you can forgive me the same way Wyatt has.”

Jasper nods slowly, his tears still glistening on his cheeks. “I forgive you, Mommy.”

I pull him in for a hug. “Jasper, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kept this a secret for so long.”

“Do you and Wyatt love each other?” Jasper asks, looking up at me with curious eyes.

“We… care for one another,” I say.

“It’s going to take some time until Mommy and I feel that way,” Wyatt adds. “We have to get to know each other better.”

“Are we going to be a family? Are you and Wyatt getting married?” Jasper’s questions tumble out, a stream over smooth pebbles.

“We’re taking things one day at a time,” I say, offering a smile that holds both promise and patience. “But no matter what happens, Wyatt will always be here for you.”

“Really?” Hope flickers across Jasper’s face like the first star at twilight.

“Really,” Wyatt confirms, reaching out to wrap Jasper in a hug that seems to encompass all the missed years. “I’m not going anywhere. I need to take care of something for a bit, but I promise I’ll come back.”

Jasper squeezes Wyatt tightly, his small body pressed against the solid wall of Wyatt’s chest. “Okay,” he whispers, the sadness in his voice pulling at my heartstrings.

Wyatt releases him gently and stands up, looking between us with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Chloe, can we talk for a minute?” His voice is low but firm.

I nod, swallowing hard as I move toward the door. I take one last glance at Jasper before stepping outside with Wyatt, shutting the door softly behind us. The air shifts immediately—there’s an intensity that feels electric between us.

Wyatt leans against the wall beside me, his expression serious as he pulls out two passes from his jacket pocket. He holds them out like they’re precious gems. “These are for my game next week,” he says. “I want you and Jasper to come.”

My heart skips a beat at the thought of being in that environment again—the arena filled with noise and chaos—but I force myself to keep it steady. “Wyatt… ”

He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “Listen.” His blue eyes bore into mine with sincerity. “I don’t care what people say about us or about Jasper. I’m not denying you two.” There’s a fierceness in his tone that both unsettles and comforts me.

“I hope you change your mind and bring him to the game.”

The thought dances on the edge of possibility—a family moment wrapped in excitement and cheers—but fear tugs at my insides like an anchor threatening to drag me down.

“You’ll be in a private box,” he adds.

Wyatt straightens up, stepping closer as if to close any remaining distance between us.

With one last lingering look, Wyatt turns and walks away down the hallway. Each step feels heavy against my chest until he rounds the corner and disappears from view.