Hell, I want her to need me.
“I can’t have a boyfriend to fill an emotional hole or to feel better about myself. And I know you have commitment phobia…”
“I don’t.”
“Anyway…” she yawns and rolls over. “I want you to know I’m sorting myself out.”
I rub her back a few times until her breathing turns heavy.
I head out to Chance and tell him what happened. “Make sure she calls me if she needs support. If she decides to meet her mum, I want to be there for her.”
The following morning, I call Chance to see if they need help cleaning up after the party.
“All good,” Chance says. “I hired a company, and they arrived early this morning.”
I check the time, and it’s already mid-morning. “Is there a chance Macy is up to talking or is she still asleep?”
“She took off an hour ago. She didn’t want any of us to drive her.”
“Fuck.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah… no… she’s meeting her mother, whom she hates. Remember, I mentioned it last night?”
“Mate, it slipped my mind. We had our own issues with Adele.”
“Is Adele okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine, now. Girls go too hard too fast.”
“Yeah. Well, let me know if I can do anything to help. And if Macy calls, let me know if she’s okay?’
“Will do. I’m heading to Adelaide with the team next weekend, so I’ll catch you then.”
I hang up the phone and send Macy a message.
Do you need me to come to you?
Chapter Twenty-Three
REEF
It’s time to board my flight, so I head out of the lounge area and stride to my gate.
I have checked my phone every ten minutes. My gut is tighter than before a big game. I resist the urge to call because I promised her space. She knows I’m here if she needs me, needs support, and the fact she hasn’t even messaged hurts like a bitch.
She’s probably already home and in bed recovering from a hangover.
I glance down at my phone for a final time before queuing to board with the other business-class members. A flash of red catches my eye. I turn to Macy rushing past the line to the seats nearby and collapsing into a chair. She places her hands over her eyes and doesn’t move apart from the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders.
Fuck.
Leaving the line, I rush over to her and place a hand on her back. “Mace, are you okay?”
She gasps with a sharp intake of breath and raises her head. “Oh, shit, trust you to be here.” She swipes her red eyes and attempts to look stoic.
“What’s going on? Why are you upset?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
I take the seat beside her. “I am worried about it. I asked you to message me if you needed support.”
She cackles, and the sound doesn’t suit her. “Because imagine if I took you along to meet her. It would have been so much worse.”
“Worse?”
“Yes, worse. Because you’re the reason she called me. It’s all your fault. She didn’t want to get to know me. She wanted to make it clear I wasn’t good enough for you. I told her not to panic because you had already made it abundantly clear.” Macy’s eyes hold mine with rage and hurt whirling behind them.
“How is it my fault? I don’t understand. What have I got to do with it?”
She cackles again. “My mother’s name is Sylvia. Ring any bells?”
She holds my gaze and nods when recognition registers. “Sylvia Muirhead?”
Whoa! No bloody way.
“Just go, Reef. I need to be alone to absorb and figure some stuff out.”
“I don’t want you hurting because of her.”
“Reef!” She sounds exasperated. “Let me process some things alone. P-please.”
The way her voice cracks on the last word gets my attention, so I stand and do what she asks. “Fine. But please, don’t push me away. You don’t need to go through this by yourself.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t expect you to understand,” she whispers.
“I want to try.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head before walking toward the plane and taking my seat at the front. I let out a breath with every person who boards and is not Macy. She’s one of the last and walks past me so quickly I don’t have a chance to say anything. How the fuck do I remain calm while she’s sitting a few rows back with a broken heart?
When the nose of the plane levels and the seatbelt light goes out, I make my way to the restroom searching the rows as I go. She’s sitting toward the back, eyes closed with her head against the wall near the window. I pause by her row, and when she doesn’t stir, I assume she’s asleep. I wait a few seconds more. The woman in the aisle seat shoots me a dark look, so I keep moving not wanting to look like a freak.
It’s not until we land that I have another opportunity to check on her. Macy must have sensed I’d be waiting for her as she’s the last person to walk through the gate.
She keeps walking. Fast. Only my legs are longer than hers, and I can match her pace.
“I was hoping you’d be gone already.”
“Not without checking on you first.”
“I’m fine, Reef,” she says, exasperated. “I’m not sure why you care now. You didn’t care how I was a month ago, and it was then I needed you the most.”
“Macy—”
“Don’t Macy me. I got through it. I’ll get through this. Please, leave me alone.”
I slow up, allow her to walk at a brisk pace ahead of me. The sword to my gut twists to the point I want to puke. The slower I walk, the more extensive the gap between us, and it’s like I’m allowing her to slip away.
For the first time, it dawns on me, I might have already lost her, and everything I’m trying to achieve is sending her further away.
Maybe it is a timing thing.
Maybe I fucked up so bad there’s no winning her back.
No matter the circumstance, I’m not giving up, yet.
Late on Wednesday night, Marcus, Hunter, and I stroll back to my parked car after a team function in the city. I didn’t drink, so I told the guys I’d give them a ride home. We turn a corner, and it’s the same street as Lombardi’s, only it’s late and closed like other restaurants in the area. Even being on the street where she works makes my gut tighten with dread.
There’s a crowd growing ahead, and shouts alert us to a brawl. It’s a sign for us to cross the road and avoid anything causing us to gain potential negative media attention. Innocent or not, being caught up in a street fight is definitely something we should avoid. Except I have an instinct to check it out.
As we get closer, the shouts are threats from three guys, stumbling and aggressively throwing air punches, and everyone is getting out of their way, except a homeless man who is caught in the crossfire.
He’s trapped like an animal. Dirt-covered arms cross his face and head as he cowers toward the building. One look and I suspect drugs are the cause since these guys seem to have zero comprehension of what they’re doing even with a group of teenagers trying to protect the homeless guy. But they’re no match for the bigger built men and are clearly off their faces. I’m about to step in when one of the wiry teenagers is knocked to the ground, hits his head on the pavement, and remains there.