In my defense, I didn’t know about the toddler.
When I learn Enzo Bellanti has joined my hockey team, I’m furious. Sure, Enzo and I were once best friends.
But that was before he ghosted me and started throwing me into the boards every time we’re on the ice. I definitely don’t expect him to show up at my door.
And I really don’t expect him to show up with a toddler. Three years ago, his sister asked me for a favor—the kind that involved a cup, a closed door, and a mission I didn’t know was successful.
Enzo thought I’d slept with her and abandoned her. In hindsight, that explains the death glares and on-ice aggression.
Now that he’s lost his sister, we’re suddenly coparenting a child while juggling hockey, sleep deprivation, and tension. Yes, that kind.
