“Do you want to see a picture of him?” She pushes her phone toward me and I take in the glowing picture of the little boy.
In this picture, Theo has wide eyes and a smile. He has a full head of dark hair and is wearing a batman onesie.
“He’s adorable.” We spend the next hour talking about Theo. We order food and I listen eagerly to every story she’s willing to share. She regales me with stories about the first four months of his life and his terrifying birth. For a baby, he’s had a wild journey already.
She tells me he was born premature with a collapsed lung, like Aubrey said. “It was terrifying. They had to fly him to a special hospital because the one I gave birth in wasn’t equipped. The worst part was I wasn’t allowed to go with him. I was stuck in the hospital because I just gave birth and couldn’t be discharged. I made my mom go with him and send me every single update.”
“I’m sorry you went through all of that. I can only imagine how scared you were.”
“Thanks. It was pretty scary.” She pauses and glances up at me with a thoughtful look on her face. She pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear before speaking. “Do…do you want to meet him now? My mom has him right around the corner. They’ve been shopping. I told her to stay close by, in case this went well.” My eyes are wide at the prospect of not only meeting my son but also her mother. Who knows what she believes about me. “She knows the truth and nothing else.”
I sigh in relief. “Yes, I want to meet him. Thank you, Amanda.” I pay for our food, but before we leave, I stop her. “I do need to ask you one last thing before we go. Um, I heard you already went to the media with the whole story.”
“That was intentional. I have a friend who works at the news station, but everything she knows has been off the record. I was admittedly sick of dragging my feet and having to go through your lawyers. It’s why I’ve been calling you. I told my friend to hint at the story like they know something. Again, I’m sorry for how I’ve handled everything.”
All the stress I’ve endured the past few weeks has all been because of planted stories. What the fuck. My anger wants to return, but I push it aside. I try to imagine her desperate and scared with a newborn. I don’t let my temper win. Instead, I blow out a breath and nod.
“Okay. Let’s go meet Theo.”
She smiles and leads the way.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bria
Another week passes and as promised, I was benched from the next fucking game. The game after that, I’m pissed off, but I make sure I have my head on straight and I kick some serious ass.
I’ve been training by myself since my trainer is busy with his own problems. I get it, and I’m still hurt by him, but I can’t help but miss him and those moments we spent together. Even though half of the sessions were spent with me hating him, they helped me a lot. They pushed me more than I knew.
One of the things hurting me most is giving up a dream I never knew I had or even wanted, thanks to Tatum. He picked me because he thought I could grow past collegiate soccer. He thought I was good enough to go pro, and for a while, I believed him. Now I don’t know what to believe. Were those just pretty words meant to force my hand? Did he ever believe in me or was I a target from day one?
I never wanted to go pro. I never even gave it a thought until it was brought up to me. Now I feel like I’ve lost that possibility. No professional team is going to want a player who gets red carded and benched and has a relationship with her trainer slash assistant coach.
I’ve lost a pipe dream I never thought was attainable until this year and now I’m hurt because of it. Fucking Tatum.
“Bria, why don’t you come with us?”
I’m burrowed on the couch watching How to be Single with a pint of rocky road ice cream in my hand. My hair is in a Cindy Lou Who-worthy messy bun and I’m in my comfiest pair of yoga pants.
All of my friends are decked out in party clothes, ready to get drunk and make bad decisions. I don’t need to make any more bad decisions. In fact, I shouldn’t make any decisions for myself ever again.
“Not tonight. I’m going to sit here and eat my ice cream and enjoy the quiet.”
“Do you want me to stay with you?” my best friend offers, and I love her for the thought, but shake my head no.
“No, please go. I want to be alone.” She opens her mouth to object, but I stop her. “Besides, I have an exam on Monday I need to study for and about ten other excuses I can come up with right now. Go. I’m fine.”
“Okay, but text me if you need me. Love you, girl.” She blows me a kiss before heading outside just in time for the Uber to pick them up. I settle into the couch and enjoy both the movie and the quiet.
My phone vibrates with a text, but I don’t answer it. It’s more than likely Morgan already checking up on me and begging me to change my mind. No, thank you.
Another text comes through a few minutes later. Then a third. After ten minutes a call comes through. Curiosity gets the best of me and I glance at the screen. It’s not Morgan at all.
“Hello?”
“Bria, hey, thank God. Sorry for all the texts and whatever but I really need to talk to you. Are you busy?” Tatum’s husky voice is somehow both eager and wary. Thanks to his slight desperation, I’m dying to know what’s so important.
We haven’t talked since I stormed out of his office. I haven’t forgiven him, and he wants to call me up and ask me to drop everything?
What’s even worse is how bad I want to.
“Yes, actually, I am busy. I’m—”
“Please, let me explain. I only need five minutes.” I pray I don’t regret this.
“Fine. Come over.” He hesitates and I sigh. “Everyone is out at a party. I’m home alone.” I hang up before he can argue. I’m not going to bend over backwards for him. If he’s as desperate as he sounds, he’ll put in the work.
By the time I put my ice cream back in the freezer and walk back into the living room, there’s a knock on the door. Pulling it open, Tatum is there in all his handsome glory. His face splits into a broad smile the minute he sees me and my heart tugs to return the emotion.
I take him in, from his messy hair to the white t-shirt that looks painted on. The sleeves are tight around his bicep and I trail my eyes down, taking in the ink I love so much covering his right arm. He’s wearing jeans, which disarms me. I’m used to seeing him in soccer shorts, but the denim hugging his thighs like a second skin works damn well for him.
His eyes light up as he watches me ogle him without a care. Instead of acknowledging the moment, I step back and sweep my arm in, in a silent invitation.
He paces like a mad man. His smile is bordering on crazy and his eyes sweep over me in need. I’m on the metaphorical edge of my seat, waiting for him to spit whatever it is the hell out.
“Amanda’s dropping the charges. Well, the threat of the charges. You know what I mean. She backed down, which is why I was talking to her last week and why she’s been calling. I met up with her today to put everything on the table. God, Bria, I couldn’t wait to tell you. This changes everything. I’m going to get my job back and the media doesn’t actually know anything. It was all a bunch of bull she orchestrated.”