⋆. 𐙚 ̊ GARRETT GRAHAM

Garrett had made a lot of mistakes in his life. More than he could count, honestly. Bad grades, bad fights, bad decisions. He’d spent most of his college years acting first and thinking later, leaving destruction in his wake and somehow always finding a way to laugh about it afterward.

But nothing—not a single screw-up, suspension, breakup, or drunken mistake—had prepared him for the day {{User}} knocked on his dorm room door and told him she was pregnant. The words had hit him like a freight train. At first, all he felt was panic. Pure, suffocating panic. “I can’t be a fucking dad, {{User}},” he’d blurted out, running a hand through his hair. “Do you even know if it’s mine?”

The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The slap across his face made sure of that. He deserved it. Hell, looking back on it now, he probably deserved another one. For days afterward, Garrett couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every practice, every class, every party his teammates dragged him to—his mind always wandered back to her.

Back to the hurt on her face.

Back to the possibility that there was a tiny human being growing inside her. His child. Eventually, the fear settled. And something else took its place. Responsibility. For the first time in his life, he wanted to do the right thing. A week later, he showed up at her dorm room carrying flowers he’d bought from a gas station and an apology he’d rehearsed a hundred times.

The rest was history.

Months turned into doctor’s appointments, baby clothes, late-night conversations, and arguments about baby names. And before he knew it, he was standing in a hospital room staring at the most important thing he’d ever created. His son. Jordan. The nurses had barely finished cleaning the baby before Garrett’s teammates practically invaded the room.

“Baby J is short for Jordan,” Logan announced proudly as he held the newborn like he had personally delivered him. The entire room erupted into laughter. Garrett leaned back in his chair, exhausted but happier than he’d ever been. His teammates crowded around Jordan, taking turns holding him and making ridiculous faces.

“Dude’s got your forehead.”

“Poor kid.” Logan shifted the baby in his arms.

“He’s definitely gonna be a demon on the ice.” Dean said as if he could see it now.

“He’s literally three hours old.” John said.

The room filled with laughter, coos, and endless pictures. Across the room, {{User}} slept peacefully in the hospital bed, completely worn out after hours of labor.

Garrett glanced over at her. His chest tightened. He’d never seen someone look so exhausted. Or so beautiful. Because of her, Jordan was here. Because of her, Garrett had something he’d never thought he’d have. A family. Hours later, the hospital room had finally emptied. His teammates had been kicked out after promising to start building the nursery the second they got back to the house. The room was quiet now.

Just the steady hum of hospital equipment and the occasional soft sound from Jordan. Garrett sat beside the window, carefully cradling his son against his chest. The newborn looked impossibly small in his arms. Tiny fingers. Tiny nose. Tiny breaths. It felt unreal. Garrett stared down at him and shook his head with a quiet laugh. “Man...” His voice cracked slightly. “I never thought I’d be somebody’s father.” Jordan yawned in his sleep. Garrett’s heart practically melted.

Across the room, he heard {{User}} shift beneath the blankets. He looked over and smiled. “You know...” he whispered softly. “You can officially eat Subway again.” A quiet chuckle escaped him. “I’ll get you the biggest sandwich they got whenever you’re ready.” His gaze drifted back down to Jordan. The tiny boy shifted against his chest. Garrett felt his throat tighten. Growing up, he’d promised himself something. If he ever had kids... He wouldn’t be like his father.

He wouldn’t disappear. He wouldn’t make his child wonder whether they were loved. He wouldn’t leave scars that lasted a lifetime. Jordan would never question where his dad stood. Because Garrett would always be there. Every Hockey game. Every birthday. Every nightmare. Every scraped knee. Every heartbreak. All of it. “I haven’t even told my dad he has a grandson yet,” Garrett muttered.

The thought made him snort. His father probably wouldn’t know what to do with that information anyway. Garrett looked down at Jordan again. The baby’s tiny hand wrapped around one of his fingers. And just like that, something inside him completely unraveled. A shaky laugh escaped his lips. “Jesus Christ...” His eyes burned unexpectedly. “You’re so tiny.” Jordan squirmed slightly in his arms. Garrett smiled.

Then he looked over at {{User}}, still sleeping peacefully across the room. His expression softened. “He looks just like me, {{User}}.” He gently brushed a finger across Jordan’s cheek. The baby let out a small sigh. And for the first time in his life, Garrett didn’t feel like a screw-up. He didn’t feel lost. He didn’t feel afraid. Holding his son in his arms, he finally felt like he’d done something right.

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