Infinity. (Infinity Series) (27 page)

Without replying, I strip off my clothes and ease myself into the hot water opposite from her. She stays in her spot, and I’m not sure that I wanted her to do so.

After a very long silence of me watching her fidget, I can’t take it anymore and drop my chin to my chest, closing my eyes. It’s too damn painful to watch.

She finally speaks. “Look, I know you need to
be
after games, but there are a few things that I have to say. Let me know when you’re ready to listen.” She doesn’t sound like my Charlie. My Charlie is a balls-to-the-wall kind of chick. Tough is her middle name. This version of her is pathetic; almost exactly how I feel.

I raise my head and open my eyes to look at her. She’s so damn timid, like a little mouse. “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say, but I will not sit here and endure your excuses. What’s happened has happened. You can’t give me back the time that I’ve lost with my daughter. I’m not willing to relive the past. I’m only focused on the future.” It comes out harsher than I’d intended, but the words ring true. I silently add,
And I hope you aren’t leaving me, because I will spend every dime I have to gain full custody of my princess
.

She nods and begins, “I called Carmen today, and told her that this would be my last week at the practice until your season is over. Then, I’m hoping that we can move to Houston for the offseason so I can continue practicing medicine.” As she speaks, she begins to regain some of her confidence.

She pauses, letting her words sink in. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I can tell this is her attempt at offering me an olive branch. Logistically it will work for a few months, but then I’ll have to be back in Dallas full-time. What then? Are we just delaying the inevitable? Seems like it to me. We’re going to be in the same damn boat in April, and that’s not okay.

“Brad is going to be there in my place, helping with all the behind the scenes stuff that I do. That also means that he will not be in Dallas, which should make you happy. I hope you see this as me finding us some grey area in our relationship.” She sits up straighter, which brings her perfect boobs just out of the water. Dear God, I want to suck and bite them while she screams my name. “I know that these past months have been hard on us, but I have to say, Colin, that they’ve been my happiest months professionally.”

My heart plunges to my stomach at the confirmation that my feelings have been correct. “What I’m doing is mentally challenging, and physically very difficult. I don’t have enough experience to be head of a practice, but I love it. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I’m me again. I’m not just Ainsley’s mom, and the mega-athlete’s wife. I’m Caroline Jane Collins-McKinney, business owner, doctor, healer, wife, and mother. Can you understand that?” As she speaks, I watch her face glow in excitement. It’s clear, even in the moonlight, she’s doing what she loves.

I ignore her question and ask one of my own. “So if you had to make a choice right now, me or your dad’s practice, what would you choose?” It’s such a dick question. Cruel, really. I wouldn’t be surprised if she stormed inside and never spoke to me again, but it doesn’t matter. I want to hear her response.

Her face clouds with anger. Without missing a beat, she replies, “Both. I want both, and I can have both if you’ll give a little and work with me.”

I sit up tall, far surpassing her height, and respond, “Oh, really? So we’re going to be married, but have joint custody of our daughter. She spends one week in Dallas, and one week in Houston? That sounds very healthy and stable for her. I mean, she won’t be confused at all.” My tone is sarcastic and biting. It’s the hurt inside seeping out, and I’m not apologizing for it.

She spits back with pure venom. “Colin, you’re an ass. You know that, right?” Her eyes narrow to slits, and she draws back as if she’s a snake about to strike.

I lean forward about a foot from her face, locking her eyes with mine. “Because I’m not willing to let you take Ainsley away from me? I think that there are a lot of people who’d think that was pretty damn admirable. I didn’t have a child to not raise her. She’s just as much mine as she is yours.” Then I realize that I need to use Charlie’s tactic back on her. “How would you like it if I kept Ainsley away from you for months on end? I’d let you see her a weekend here or there, but, every time that you saw her, she had completely changed. You said goodbye to a child who was immobile, and the next time you saw her she was crawling. You missed out on her first movements, her first words, her first trip to see Santa, and no telling how many other firsts that you can’t even fathom. Then, the fucking cherry on top, is that she starts calling Jenny
Mama
.” I run my fingers through my matted waves of hair, seething with anger. “I know you, Caroline. I know that you would never stand for that shit, so I don’t know why you expect for me to roll over and be okay with it.”

There. I said it. I don’t break eye contact as I move back to the hot tub bench. I stare straight into her lavender eyes, making sure she sees just how deadly serious I am. She wants to talk, we’re talking. She just got my diatribe. Hope it tastes as bitter as it was to spit it out.

We don’t speak for a long time, and continue our second-grade staring contest.

Finally, I lean my head back on the cool brick and let the hot water boil me in my own misery. I really don’t know if there’s anything left to say at this point. We’re at an impasse, and I don’t see any possible way to resolve this.

But, of course, my girl always has something left in her bag of tricks. “I’m pregnant,” she says over the bubbling noise of the hot tub.

I sit up bolt straight, and my face twists into a look of panic and horror. “What did you say?” I feel like I just got hit by a truck.
Pregnant? 
She can’t be pregnant. We can’t bring another child into this living nightmare.

“You heard me. I’m pregnant.” There’s no emotion in her voice or on her face. She’s a blank slate.

“How?”

“Well, you see, Colin, when a man is horny…” She’s being a sarcastic brat right now, and that just pisses me off.

I slap the water, and the sound shuts her up. “I fucking know how you got pregnant, but we weren’t trying,” I respond, sounding completely clueless. This can’t be happening. As usual, our timing is for shit.

“We weren’t doing anything to prevent it.” She shoots back at me, sitting up as straight as I am. We’re both preparing for battle. “We had so much trouble conceiving Ainsley that you didn’t want me to get back on the pill. We both knew that it was a possibility.”

“How far along?” I ask a little more calmly as I run my hand through my hair. I think,
bald by forty
.

“I don’t know. I took the test right before you came home.”

“Should you be in the hot tub?” I’m now feeling protective of my unborn child.
The child that I’m not sure that I want.

“Relax, the water is ninety-nine degrees. We aren’t going to cook our baby,” she says in the demeaning Charlie tone that really pisses me off.

I slump in the water, and let time tick by. All my fight washes out, leaving me feeling like a limp noodle. I think about the eight lonely years without her. I picture my daughter’s chubby cheeks, and contemplate what life was like without her. No. I don’t want another child right now, but it’s too late for that. We’re going to be parents again, so we might as well get on the same page and determine how to make a life together work.

Just above a whisper, I ask, “What are we going to do?”

Every bit of my anger and hurt has been dissolved. The only thing left is resolve. Resolve to the do whatever is best for my family. I just hope that Charlie’s on the same page.

She moves across the hot tub right next to me with her body pressed up against my side. My every cell has missed her skin against my skin, and begs me to hold her. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and bring her even closer to me, inhaling the scent of her peppermint shampoo.

She leans up and kisses my cheek. I want more intimacy than that, but I know that I have to initiate it. I’ve pushed her away too many times.

“I haven’t got the foggiest clue what we’re going to do, but…” she says, taking my chin in her hand turning my head so I’m looking at her. “…I can tell you what we’re not going to do. We aren’t giving up on us. Remember what those eight years felt like? Never again, Colin.”

I nod in agreement. For now, I let her plan rest. We’ll stay in Dallas until my season is over. Then we’ll move to Houston so she can practice medicine. In April, well, I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I make a decision to approach our relationship like football playoffs. It’s one week at a time.

Two weeks later, after securing back-to-back trips to the Super Bowl, Charlie and I visit Doctor Starr. To our complete and utter surprise, we’re not expecting just one baby. Charlie is pregnant with twins.

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Charlie

 

 

I’m lying in the movie room in one of our recliner theater-chairs. My legs are above my cervix, just as Doctor Starr recommended. My mom is changing Ainsley’s diaper in her nursery. Brad is downstairs popping popcorn for us, and bringing up everything that we’ll need for the next few hours.

I clutch my phone in my hand, willing it to ring. And not just anyone to call. I want to hear Colin’s voice.

As if I am able to control the universe, my phone vibrates in my hand.

“Hello,” I all but scream into it.

“How ya doing, beautiful girl?” His voice is like velvet to my ears.

I melt into my chair. “Okay,” I sigh. “So sad that I’m not there.” I’m trying to not sound as pathetic as I feel.

“You’re doing something more important. You’re keeping our twins safe,” he reassures me.

Three days before I was supposed to get on a plane to the Super Bowl, I discovered blood in my urine. After an emergency trip to Doctor Starr’s office, she told me the news. Twins are a high-risk pregnancy. I’m on bed-rest until I’m out of the first trimester, and that meant no Super Bowl. I’m relegated to this chair, and one bathroom break an hour.

Colin was understandably disappointed that I couldn’t be there, but his worrying has reached over-the-top levels. He suggested hiring a private nurse. I reminded him that I’m a doctor and Brad’s a nurse, which is still a touchy subject. Reluctantly, he agreed that Brad could stay with me until he returned home.

It has been almost three weeks since Brad and I saw each other. We’ve been like preteen girls getting caught up after a long stay at summer camp. Nothing will soothe the ache in my stomach that I can’t be with my husband today, but having Brad around is a nice distraction. He’s also made a point to get lost when Colin’s around, or at least fade into the woodwork. I’ll give him credit. He’s doing an excellent job of toning himself down.

“Any more bleeding?” Colin asks.

“No. And you’ll be happy to know that my mom and Brad are not letting me lift a finger.”

“Good. That’s exactly what they’re supposed to be doing.” The stadium noise behind him is so deafening that’s hard to understand him.

“Don’t you have a game to win?” I use the same tone I would for, “Can you pick up something from the grocery story?”

“Yeah. Yeah baby, I do.” He chuckles. “I just needed to hear your voice one more time.”

We both get very quiet. The only sound is the chaos surrounding Colin. Not all has been forgiven and forgotten. My unexpected pregnancy, plus the complications with the twins have essentially given Colin exactly what he wanted—Ainsley and I at home in Dallas, and me unable to practice medicine at all. I know that it’s a hollow victory for him. He’s been almost back to his old self, but this is not the way he wanted to win. He’s shifted from irate and brooding to worrying himself sick about the twins, Ainsley, and me.

“Bring me home a souvenir,” I pause for effect, “like another MVP trophy.”

“You got it. Give Ainsley a big kiss for me.”

That’s how we end our phone call before my husband plays for another championship.

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Colin

 

 

“Colin, are you fucking crazy?” Aiden asks, leaning over my desk as if he wants to punch me.

“Decision is made. We have a meeting with the team scheduled in thirty minutes.” I’m the calmest that I think that I’ve been in ages.

We’re sitting in my office at CharCol Inc.

“Your daughter’s first birthday party is in four hours. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” I know that he wants me to think this over. Aiden believes that I’m making a rash decision. I’m not. As soon as I saw two heartbeats on the ultrasound screen, I knew what I was going to do, regardless of the outcome of the game that I played a week ago today.

“This is Ainsley’s birthday gift. I’m giving her my undivided attention. We’re doing it today.” I cross my arms and lean back in my chair, cool as a motherfucking cucumber.

“Have you discussed this with Caroline?” There’s a pleading edge to his voice as I watch his eyes grow wide with hope.

“There’s nothing to discuss. If I was on the fence, I’d talk to Charlie. My mind is made up, Aiden. You either support me as my agent—more importantly, as my best friend—or I go to the meeting alone. Your choice.” I check my watch that matches Charlie’s. “I’m leaving in five.”

His body deflates as all the fight leaves him. Aiden has known me long enough to know that when I’m like this, there’s no reasoning with me. It’s part of the reason that I’ve been so successful in my career. I don’t doubt myself—well, at least not professionally.

“You realize that no one has ever done this before. Healthy players don’t walk away from the game. I mean, sure, you have the leg injury, but it’s not keeping you from playing ball.” Aiden rubs his hands on his khaki slacks while his face twists in angst. “Look, man, no one is going to understand this decision. Players play until they can’t any longer. No one just walks away at the top of his or her career. Are you hearing me?”

Other books

The Endgame by James, Cleary
Cold as Ice by Anne Stuart
Daddy's Immortal Virgin by Christa Wick
The Man in 3B by Weber, Carl
Miss-Fortunate Reality by Hicks, I.M.
Children of Scarabaeus by Sara Creasy
Cloudless May by Storm Jameson
Mrs. Pollifax Unveiled by Dorothy Gilman
Why Shoot a Butler by Georgette Heyer