Read Player Misconduct By Kenna King Chapter 28 – The conference room that Richard and I were in last time is the same room we are escorted back into during decision day.
Rain beats against the glass of the windows, turning the city beyond into a watercolor blur—gray buildings bleeding into a gray sky, the world reduced to muted shapes. The lighting in here feels harsh, but maybe that’s just because I’m about to lose my license for falling in love.
I sit at the long table, hands folded in my lap, trying to look calm even though my pulse is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. My lawyer, Richard Palmer, sits beside me, tablet open, pen poised, his expression carefully neutral in that way lawyers have when they’re trying not to show you how bad things are.
Across from us, three board members sit in a row: Dr. Helena Pierce in the center, flanked by Dr. Lowe and Dr. Oswald. Their expressions range from stern to skeptical to something that might be sympathy if you squint hard enough.
This is it.
The moment everything I’ve worked for—every late night, every exam, every patient I’ve saved—comes down to a single decision made by three people who don’t know me, don’t care about me, and are only here because my ex-husband decided to destroy my life one more time.
Dr. Pierce opens the file in front of her with a soft rustle of paper, her eyes scanning the first page with clinical detachment.
‘Dr. Hensen,’ she begins, her voice measured and flat. ‘This review concerns allegations of ethical misconduct—specifically, that you engaged in an inappropriate relationship with a patient under your medical supervision, resulting in a conflict of interest that compromised your professional judgment.’
I force myself to meet her gaze. ‘I understand.’
‘The incident in question,’ she continues, flipping to the next page, ‘occurred following a regular-season game at the Hawkeyes Arena. Video footage shows a physical altercation involving your ex-husband, Tarron McCoy, and Aleksi Mäkelin, a player currently under your care. The altercation resulted in injuries requiring medical attention.’
My chest tightens. I can still see it—the tunnel, the cameras, Tarron’s hand on my arm, Aleksi’s face going hard and dangerous in a way I’d never seen before.
Get your hands off her.
Richard leans forward slightly, his voice calm and measured. ‘Dr. Hensen acted in good faith throughout this situation. The altercation was initiated by Mr. McCoy, who was intoxicated and became aggressive toward Dr. Hensen. Mr. Mäkelin intervened to protect Dr. Hensen. The media escalated the situation beyond anyone’s control.’
Dr. Oswald—the man with wire-rimmed glasses and a perpetual frown—speaks up. ‘The fact remains that Dr. Hensen’s involvement with this player created a situation in which her professional objectivity was compromised. Regardless of who initiated the altercation, the outcome demonstrates a failure to maintain appropriate boundaries.’
‘The player who intervened was acting out of concern for Dr. Hensen’s safety,’ Richard counters smoothly. ‘He was not under her direct care at the time of the incident—’
‘Mr. Palmer,’ Dr. Pierce interrupts, her voice sharp. ‘We’re not here to debate the specifics of the altercation. We’re here to determine whether Dr. Hensen’s conduct meets the ethical standards required of a licensed physician.’
The walls press in. The air feels thin.
This is happening. This is really happening.
My hand drifts instinctively to my belly. Niko shifts beneath my palm, as if he knows what’s going on.
Dr. Pierce glances at her colleagues, then back at me. ‘Before we proceed, I’d like to clarify something in your file.’
My stomach drops. ‘Yes?’
She flips through several pages, her frown deepening. ‘You were previously reviewed by the Florida State Medical Board in connection with similar allegations. Is that correct?’
Heat floods my face. ‘Yes. But the complaint was dismissed. There was no relationship—it was just rumors.’
Then after a moment I remember that Tarron told me they already had a file open on me. This would have happened even before the altercation.
‘I’m sorry…” I ask, realizing that the proceedings in Florida had never gone anywhere due to the lack of facts in the claim against me. “I actually was never told who filed that complaint against me in Florida. I had just assumed it was from the press storm that the board had been tipped off. Did someone actually file a complaint?” I ask
“Yes…” Dr. Lowe says, sliding on her glasses and opens a file she has in front of her. I can see her scanning the document and then says, “The complaint was filed by Tarron McCoy.”
Shock hits me first, then fires rages in my stomach. Tarron knew the entire time that none of the men I had dated after our divorce were players under my care. He did that on purpose to rattle me, and let me believe it was the media that got me in trouble.
He was jealous and tried to end my career… after everything he had already put me through. I can barely believe it.
“Did you just say Tarron McCoy filed the complaint against me in Florida?”
I look over at my lawyer who is just now processing the entirety of what I am saying.
“Dr. Pierce, can I ask… did you have a file open for me before the incident in the hallway happened?”
“Yes, we had opened it a week prior and were gathering information, though just as the last time, we had no real evidence except for a complaint we received.”
Richard practically jumps out of his seat. “Is it possible that the same person made the exact same allegation against my client?’
She looks up, her expression carefully neutral, and then looks back over the file in front of her. ‘Yes, in fact, it would appear that the current complaint was also filed by Mr. McCoy.’
The room goes still.
Richard’s head snaps to me. ‘I’m sorry—are you saying that the only two allegations against my client, spanning two states and five years, both come from the same individual? Her ex-husband?’
Dr. Pierce glances at the file again, then nods slowly. ‘That appears to be correct.’
My brain scrambles to catch up, pieces clicking into place with sickening clarity.
Tarron filed the first complaint.
Tarron.
Not some concerned colleague. Not a random reporter. Tarron.
And then when they didn’t have enough evidence of an inappropriate relationship between me and Aleksi… he made a scene at the Hawkeyes stadium, in front of cameras sure to catch it.
He did it to control me. To keep me isolated. To make sure no one else could have me if he couldn’t.
And he’s doing it again.
Richard leans forward, his voice sharpened now, no longer measured. ‘So my client’s ex-husband—who cheated on her, drained their joint accounts, and left her in debt—is the sole source of every complaint that’s threatened her career. And you didn’t find that suspicious?’
Dr. Lowe shifts uncomfortably. Dr. Oswald glances at Dr. Pierce, who frowns but says nothing.
‘Furthermore,’ Richard presses, ‘Mr. McCoy physically assaulted my client in a public venue days after he filed his complaint. He was intoxicated, aggressive, and had to be escorted out by security. Does that sound like a credible witness to you? Or someone trying to start something to get your attention.’
Dr. Pierce’s mouth tightens. ‘Be that as it may, Mr. Palmer, Dr. Hensen did engage in an intimate relationship with a patient under her care. That is a violation of—’
The doors burst open.
The sound echoes through the room like a gunshot.
Gasps ripple across the board members. Richard twists from where he stands. I freeze, heart hammering, as a figure strides into the room with the kind of quiet, controlled fury that makes the air itself go still.
Aleksi.
He’s still in his Hawkeyes warm-up jacket, damp with rain, hair wild, chest heaving like he just ran a marathon. Behind him, Penelope appears in the doorway, phone in hand, expression somewhere between exasperated and triumphant.
‘Kendall Hensen,’ Aleksi says, his voice steady but loud enough to echo off the walls, ‘is the best doctor this team has ever had.’
Dr. Pierce stands, her expression thunderous. ‘Sir, this is a closed hearing. You have no right to—’
‘I don’t care,’ he says, crossing the room in long, purposeful strides. He stops at the edge of the table, hands braced on the back of the empty chair beside me, eyes locked on the board. ‘You’re about to take away the license of a woman who saved a man’s life midair. Who sat beside me in a motel room thinking we were dying. Who’s risked everything for her patients and for me.’
His voice cracks slightly on the last word, and something in my chest breaks open.
‘She didn’t seduce a player,’ he continues, his gaze sweeping across the board members. ‘She saved one. Me. She stayed with me that night because she thought it was our last one on earth. That’s not misconduct—that’s humanity.’
Dr. Pierce’s mouth opens, closes. She glances at her colleagues, clearly off-balance.
‘And you are?’ Dr. Lowe asks carefully.
‘Aleksi Mäkelin. Right winger for the Seattle Hawkeyes.’ He pauses, his eyes finding mine. ‘And the father of her child.’
A hush falls over the room.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can only stare at him, at the way he’s standing there, soaked and fierce and utterly unafraid, like he’d burn the whole world down to protect me.
‘She takes her job seriously,’ he says quietly, his voice rough now. ‘She would’ve never given me a chance if she thought we’d live to see morning. But we did. And she’s spent every day since trying to protect me from the fallout. She shouldn’t lose everything for that.’
Dr. Lowe clears her throat. ‘Mr. Mäkelin, we understand your… passion. But you’re not authorized to—’
‘Authorized?’ he snaps, his voice rising. ‘You’re authorized to destroy a family?’
He looks around the room, his eyes burning with something raw and unfiltered. ‘Do you really want the story to be that the state board punished a pregnant woman for saving lives and falling in love in the process?’
The tension ripples through the board members like static. Dr. Peirce exchanges a glance with Dr. Oswald. Dr. Lowe shifts in her seat, her expression conflicted.
Finally, Dr. Oswald asks carefully, ‘What are you proposing, Mr. Mäkelin?’
Aleksi’s answer is immediate. ‘What if we were married?’
The room collectively blinks.
My brain short-circuits. ‘Aleksi—what?‘
He turns to me, his expression softening. ‘There’s no rule saying a husband and wife can’t work for the same organization. It’s a grey area at best, Penelope looked it up on our way here. You wouldn’t be treating me as a patient—you’d be treating me as your husband.’
Dr. Oswald frowns. ‘Technically… she’s not currently employed with the team.’
Penelope seizes the opening, stepping forward with the confidence of a woman who’s negotiated a thousand deals and won most of them. ‘Exactly. She stepped down temporarily. Dr. Grant’s role is interim only. Once she’s reinstated after maternity leave, the conflict would be null. We’d be hiring a married team member’s spouse, not a doctor fraternizing with a player.’
The board murmurs. Someone flips through the file. Dr. Lowe says slowly, ‘That… it’s a technicality, but it would satisfy conflict-of-interest requirements.’
Dr. Pierce leans back in her chair, her expression unreadable. ‘You’re suggesting we approve this based on a hypothetical marriage?’
‘Not hypothetical,’ Aleksi says, his voice steady. He looks at me, and the world narrows to just the two of us. ‘Not if she says yes.’
My heart stops.
He drops to one knee right there, between the legal pads and briefcases, in front of the medical board and my lawyer and Penelope and God knows who else is watching from the doorway.
‘You haven’t even asked me yet,’ I whisper, my voice breaking.
He smiles softly. ‘Then I should fix that.’
His hand finds mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in that familiar, grounding way that makes me feel like I can breathe again.
‘You were always there, Doc,’ he says quietly. ‘In the locker room, in the stands, in the stars over Nevada. I knew the day I met you—the day Penelope introduced you to the team—that I’d marry you. That I’d follow your voice anywhere.’
My vision blurs. I press my free hand to my mouth, trying to hold back the sob clawing up my throat.
‘That night in the motel wasn’t the end of the world,’ he continues, his voice rough now, weighted with emotion. ‘It was the start of mine. I want the house. The Christmases. The scraped knees. The baby who’ll grow up knowing we fought for him before he was even born. I want all of it with you. The moment I put the athletic tape ring on your finger, I knew I’d do anything to keep it on your finger.’
Tears stream down my face. I can’t stop them. I don’t even try.
He asks softly, ‘And it must have meant something to you too because you still wear my ring around your neck.’
I nod, reaching under my blouse to pull out the chain. The athletic-tape ring encased in a thin lining, dangles from it, the one he made me in Nevada, preserved in resin like a promise I was too scared to keep.
I slide it free, my hands shaking.
‘Then marry me, again,’ he says, his eyes shining. ‘But for real this time.’
My laugh breaks through the tears, half-sob, half-joy. ‘Yes.’
He slips the ring off the chain and then onto my finger, where it’s always belonged, and I take the ring off his right hand, the one he’s been wearing since that night, and slide it onto his left.
The room breaks into scattered applause. Penelope outright cheers, her phone already out, typing furiously.
Dr. Pierce clears her throat, flustered but smiling faintly. ‘Well… I suppose the simplest path forward is this. File your marriage certificate before Dr. Hensen resumes her role, and this board will close the investigation.’
Aleksi stands, pulling me up with him, his hand never leaving mine. ‘You’ll drop the NHL notification?’
‘We will not escalate this to the league,’ Dr. Pierce confirms. ‘If there’s no record… there’s no sanctions.’
Relief floods through me, so intense it nearly buckles my knees. Aleksi’s arm wraps around my waist, steadying me, holding me up.
‘You did it,’ I whisper against his shoulder.
‘We did,’ he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to my temple. “We’re stronger together, Doc. We always have been.”
Richard starts gathering his papers, smiling for the first time since I met him. The board members stand, shuffling files, murmuring to each other.
It’s over.
It’s really over.
As we turn to leave, Penelope stops us in the doorway, her eyes bright with mischief.
‘Are you sure you two want a hidden courthouse wedding?’ she asks, arching a brow.
I blink. ‘What other option do we have?’
She grins, already dialing her phone. ‘Oh, I think I’ve got a better idea—and a few girlfriends who owe me favors.’
Aleksi frowns. ‘What kind of idea?’
‘How about a pre-season wedding,’ Penelope says, her grin widening, ‘on center ice during the third period?’
My breath catches. ‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not,’ she says, her eyes sparkling. ‘It’s televised. Aleksi’s mom and sister can watch from Finland. The fans will lose their minds. And this time, the press gets the story right the first time.’
Aleksi lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. ‘That’s—that’s brilliant.’
I stare at both of them, my brain struggling to keep up. ‘You really think we can pull that off?’
Penelope winks. ‘Honey, I’ve pulled off worse. Leave it to me.’
Aleksi turns to me, his smile soft and hopeful. ‘What do you think, Doc? Ready to make history?’
I look at him—at the man who just proposed to me in front of the medical board, who bought me a house, who built me a nursery, who’s been fighting for me even when I tried to push him away—and I realize something.
I’ve spent my whole life surviving.
Maybe it’s time to start living.
I thread my fingers through his and smile. ‘I’m game if you are.’
