I realized then that journalism was my calling.
Becoming a journalism major and starting The Puck Bunny felt…right. Writing these posts that are sometimes funny, and focus on the other side of hockey too, not just players and teams’ stats.
The scandalous side.
It was all fun, and games and then… I got pregnant with Olive, and it went from being a hobby, to something that had grown exponentially and with growth, came income.
Income that I desperately needed now that I was having a baby, alone.
That’s why I continued to blog my entire pregnancy because I needed the money even more now than before. I was in school, with no medical insurance, because I was technically self-employed, and I had to prepare for a baby without the help of Briggs. The medical bills alone took a huge chunk from my savings. And, I would never have asked my grams for help, not unless there was absolutely no other choice.
She has enough on her plate with the Brickside, and the amount of money that it costs to keep it up.
“Come on Maddison, it’s literally a fucking paragraph. You can do this.” I try to talk myself up. My fingers hover over the keyboard again, and I type a simple sentence.
The Puck Bunny is officially… out of scandals.
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.
Would Briggs hate me the same way that he hates the rest of the media? Would he hate me for the posts from before I even knew him?
I can’t stop thinking about what he said, and the fact that I could possibly be hurting others with what I post.
But, it’s my job. A job that I have to have in order to support my daughter, even though I’ve padded my savings. It’s always just been a job, a way to reach my dreams.
I just don’t want to be the person that hurts Briggs, not after everything he’s gone through… even if we’re not together, he’s still Olive’s father and I don’t want to hurt him.
Since I’m obviously not making any headway in drafting a new blog post, I pull up Google and type his name in the search bar.
Briggs Wilson.
A dozen articles pop up immediately. A few on his latest hockey stats and a few of my own articles take center stage.
Briggs Wilson, betrayed by his own blood, brother caught in bed with his cheating fiancée. Family dinners will most definitely be awkward now.
Chicago’s bad boy strikes again, arrested for being drunk and disorderly. When will the Avalanches’ center get it together?
Next stop… no longer a part of the Avalanche organization? Briggs Wilson, a recipe for disaster, says NHL announcer.
God, these are awful. Swallowing harshly, I bite back the sting of tears. Jesus Maddison, you can’t continue this, you can’t have anything to do with something so damning so cruel, he’s Olive’s father. I can’t imagine Olive growing up and knowing that I was a part of something that hurt Briggs.
I pull up my email and delete each and every tip that’s come through in the past month. The ones I haven’t touched, because I was trying to navigate motherhood, but now? I can’t even look at them without feeling sick. Not when Olive’s father is the topic of so many of them.
And not even just that he’s Olive’s father, but that he’s a good man, and he’s shown me that. He and his friends, they have been here constantly to show support to me, and to Olive.
Right here and now, I make the only decision I can. The only one that feels right.
The future of The Puck Bunny is on hold, and I don’t know for how long. I just know that I won’t hurt him, not ever again, not when I now know who he really is, and what those headlines did to him.
Slamming my laptop shut, I exhale.
I’m done.
Sixteen
Holy hell. Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
I am so in over my head; I am going to drown at any moment. And the culprit? My ridiculously attractive, baby daddy who insists on being the opposite of everything I thought he was. He’s kind, attentive, and so good with our daughter that my heart feels like it may jump out of my chest each time I glance at them together.
A week has passed since he showed up at my house with four other way too good-looking hockey players and an entire department store full of stuff for Olive in their arms.
Things have been… interesting. Overwhelming, if I’m being honest. Being a new mother is challenging in itself, then adding in Briggs makes it’s a whole new world for me and my Olive girl.
She’s an angel on earth, my sweet girl, even if I don't get much sleep these days. Partially because of her schedule, and then add in my thoughts being plagued with Briggs, and sleep has not come easily.
“Let me take a shift tonight, you’re exhausted,” Briggs says, sitting next to me on the couch, watching as I burp Olive.
“It’s okay, you probably have a packed schedule.”
I set her down in the bouncer in front of me and watch as she tries to eat her little mitten-covered fists, cooing sweetly.
“Maddison, look at me.” Briggs’ voice is low and hoarse, commanding in a way that I haven’t heard since that night at the Brickside. It sends a shiver down my spine. I turn to face him, our gazes locking as he speaks, “You’re exhausted, and you need time to rest. I can handle one night, and if something happens that I can’t, I’ll wake you. We’ll be a door apart. You have enough milk pumped for a night, right?”
I nod, chewing my lip nervously at the thought of an entire night away from Olive, even if it’s just through the door of my bedroom. Not that I don’t think Briggs is capable, he is. It’s just hard trusting anyone that isn’t you with something as precious as your little girl.
"I’ll try. No promises.”
He nods. “I just need her bassinet and a blanket and pillow, and we’ll be fine.”
He’s been trying so hard to learn anything he possibly can about how to be a dad, and I appreciate every second that he tries. Watching him wrestle with a diaper, with his daughter so tiny and small while he hunches over her, is possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. We haven’t reached poop territory yet, but the last time he tried changing a diaper, he at least turned the diaper the right way this time. Imagine him trying to secure the tabs with it on backwards…
Yeah.
I giggle to myself at the thought, and he looks at me with a confused look, his brow furrowed.
“Just thinking about you trying to put a diaper on her… backwards.”
He grins. “Look, those things are entirely too complicated to put on a baby, but I watched some YouTube videos, and I'm fully prepared to take on the next one.”
“That so?” I giggle.
Briggs' eyes seem to darken in front of me, changing into something entirely different as he watches me. “I missed your laugh.” He says so quietly I almost miss it.
I swallow thickly, tamping down the emotion that has clogged my throat. I’m entirely too emotional to go anywhere near this topic with him. Lately, he’s been growing out the thick stubble on his cheeks, and if anything, the dark hair seems to make his eyes pop even more. I shouldn’t be noticing things like this, but I can’t help it.
My baby daddy is ridiculously handsome, and time has done nothing but make him even more so.
“So, how about dinner? I make delicious spaghetti, and I think I have all of the ingredients.”