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Authors: Kimberly Bracco

Chapter 10

Tanner

 

“Tag, you need to get your head straight,” Alex reminds me—as if I could forget.

“I know, man.” I sigh into the phone. “I’ve been trying. I don’t know what else to do.” My head has been in even more of a disarray since New Year’s Eve, which I hadn’t thought possible. I can’t help but think that Ashley letting me inside of her—hell, even near enough to touch her—means there’s a chance for me to fix this. It has to. No matter what she says, she isn’t the type of girl to use someone for sex. I know that it meant something. Unfortunately, these thoughts have occupied every part of my mind not dedicated to subconscious functions.

“Try harder. The playoffs start Sunday, so you don’t have much time,” he says, being completely unhelpful.

“You think I don’t know that? My head doesn’t seem to really give a shit.” I used to be able to forget about anything when it came to football, but even the playoffs aren’t helping get my mind off Ashley and the harsh sound of her voice saying it’s too late to apologize. I refuse to believe it. Even the mere thought of it guts me.

“I wish I could help you fix this but I’ve got nothing man. I’m sorry.”

I sigh again—I find myself doing that a lot these days. “I know, man. This is my fight and I’m going to have to figure out how to put things back together on my own.”

“You know I’m always here if you need me,” Alex says. “I need to head out though. I’m meeting Quinn for dinner.”

“Just Quinn?” I ask, an idea forming in my head. I feel hopeful for first time in two weeks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Let me come with you. Please. Maybe Quinn will tell me what’s going on with Ashley.”

“I don’t know man,” he says wearily. “She doesn’t like being in the middle of this any more than I do.”

“But she helped me before. I’m sure she would again,” I say, trying to coax him into agreeing with me.

“Fine, but if she gets pissed at me, it’s your ass.” After giving me the name of the place, he says they’ll be there in an hour.

I move faster while getting ready than I have in the last two weeks, even on the field, and I get there before Quinn and Alex do. Anything that might help get Ashley back is the only motivation I need. I wish Ashley would just tell me that winning the fucking Super Bowl would get her to take me back. I’d be on top of my damn game then.

Quinn gives me a sad smile when she and Alex arrive at the restaurant, and I guess Alex must have filled her in on the way over here.

“You look as shitty as she does,” she says, pulling me into a hug.

My heart drops instantly, worrying that Ashley’s sick again. “Did something happen? Is everything okay with the baby?” I ask, filled with concern.

Our conversation is momentarily disrupted by the hostess telling us our table is ready. It’s hard not to press Quinn for an answer, but I wait until we’re seated to continue.

“What’s going, Quinn?” I ask as I take my seat. “You’re killing me here.”

“Everything with the baby is still fine,” she says as she does the same, finally giving me a little reprieve.

“Are you sure?” I ask skeptically. “Has she been back to the doctor recently?”

She grabs a menu. “Yes, she had an appointment earlier this week. Everything was good.” A warm smile spreads across her face, as though she’s recalling a fond memory.

“What did they say?” I ask, craving more information than she’s giving.

“That’s all you’re getting out of me on that, pal. Nothing has changed on my part there.” She gives me a stern look over her menu.

I sigh in exasperation. I know I should be happy Quinn’s willing to give me any information at all, but it’s my baby too. It’s not fair that I’m being kept in the dark, especially considering that I want to be part of this experience. There are probably thousands of women who would give anything for their babies’ fathers to want to be involved.

“I know. I’m grateful for you keeping me somewhat in the loop, but it’s still hard.” I bring my gaze to meet hers, hoping she sees my earnestness there.

“It’s a shitty situation for all of us,” she answers, looking toward Alex. It really must suck for them to be stuck in the middle, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to exploit our friendship to get all the info I can.

“If everything is fine with the baby, then why does she look shitty?” I ask, coming back to her initial comment.

“You sure as hell did a number on her at that party,” she says. Her non-direct answer makes my stomach plummet again. She walked away from me, not the other way around. How could I have done a number on her? Unless, I physically hurt her…

“What do you mean? I… I didn’t hurt her or the baby, did I?” Fuck, I hope not. I wouldn’t be able to stomach that news. I’m suddenly reminded of the night in my kitchen when I’d thought I had pushed Ashley too far.

“No, relax. That bitch needed to be pounded out.” She laughs—fucking laughs as though she hasn’t just given me the heart attack of all heart attacks.

Alex’s eyes go wide. “Dude, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t bang her out in the bathroom.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

Quinn grins before taking a sip of the wine I didn’t even notice the waitress had brought over. “He sure did. He worked her over like a two-dollar whore.”

“I…I didn’t mean to, I swear. I only had intentions of trying to talk some sense into her, but then I got all sidetracked. I don’t know what came over me. I just needed to connect with her again,” I explain and realize how lame I sound.

“You thought a quick fuck in the bathroom at a charity event was the way to reconnect with her?” Alex shakes his head again. “You really are a moron.”

“Quinn,” I snap. “What do you mean I did a number on her?” I’m getting really tired of having to repeat myself.

“She was a hot mess before that night, but it’s even worse now—I suppose in kind of the same way it is for you.” She gives me a pointed look.

“She told me she hates… no,
loathes
… me, and that it’s too late for apologies.” Repeating Ashley’s words out loud leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “I think she made it out of that bathroom far better than I did.”

“She doesn’t actually hate you, Tanner. She only thinks she does.” Hearing that should fill me with hope, but it doesn’t.

“You didn’t see her face. She meant it.”

“She wants to hate you. If she actually did hate you, you wouldn’t affect her the way that you do. It’s when she hits indifference that you need to worry,” she says just as the waitress comes to take our order. I haven’t even looked at the menu yet, so I just order the first thing that catches my eye—a sirloin.

“What do you mean by indifference?” I ask once our food has been ordered and the waitress has left.

“You’ve heard the saying that the opposite of love is indifference, right?” she asks, sounding surprised.

“No.”

“Love and hate go hand in hand, Tanner. If she didn’t love you, she couldn’t hate you. If she didn’t care about you at all, she would be indifferent, not caring one way or another. She still loves you. I know it. That’s why she’s trying to convince everyone, herself included, that she hates you. I guess she feels like the more she says it, the truer it will become.” She still loves me? Those words fill me with optimism even though I shouldn’t let them.

“What am I supposed to do then? I have no fucking clue.”

Quinn looks me in the eye. “Take a step back—”

“No.” I shake my head. No way. It’d be too easy for her to shut me out further if I weren’t around trying to earn my way back in.

“Hear me out,” Quinn demands. “She’s a hormonal mess right now. She cries over everything. Last night, she cried hysterically over that damn animal welfare commercial—the one that plays that stupid Sarah McLachlan song. You being all up in her face isn’t going to help her sort shit out. It’s just going to make it worse.”

“I don’t like it,” I say, not believing any good can come from this plan.

Quinn lays her hand on my arm. “I’m not telling you to back off completely. Just be less in her face. Send her flowers, simple messages telling her you miss her… Remind her of the things you guys used to love doing together—other than fucking her brains out. She definitely remembers that. I promise you it’s a better game plan.”

I hadn’t really factored in the fact that Ashley’s hormones are all over the place, and I should have. I remember how my sisters were when they were pregnant and how my brothers-in-law, Dillon and Tony, complained about never being able to do anything right.

“Okay, you make a good point,” I concede. “No one knows her better than you do.” From what I’ve seen and what Ashley has told me, Quinn has always been a straight shooter, so I don’t think that she would give me bad advice. “You really are a great friend, Quinn. I’m glad that even if she won’t depend on me, she has you. Are her parents helping her at all?” I know Ashley isn’t really close to them, but maybe that’s changed too.

“She hasn’t even told them, but that’s for the best. Trust me. Her mother’s a real piece of work. I can’t stand the bitch,” she says, irritation all over her face.

“So I’ve heard.” I wish Ashley had more people to rely on, but it’s not my place to get involved in her family dynamics. If I’m going to gain my own entrance back into her life, I can’t be worried about them too.

 

 

Over the next two and a half weeks, I take Quinn’s advice to heart and back off a little. I do my best to physically keep away from Ashley, but I make sure that she knows I’m thinking about her, sending sweet texts to wish her a good day or to remind her of our time together. I text her whenever I see something that makes me think me of her. I have one sided text conversations with her. At least the nasty responses stopped coming after the first few days. I take that as a good sign.

I send flowers and little gifts—massage packages, spa days, and the like. I’ve continued to have the organic fruits and vegetables delivered to her every week despite her initial protests. I have no idea what she’s doing with all of them, but I’m content in being able to say that I’m trying.

I’ve decided it’s best I keep myself busy with the foundation and practice while I’m waiting for Ashley to come around. If I’m not practicing, I’m organizing something or other for the kids. I’ve come up with a daily plan to keep my mind focused. I’m focused on all the prizes: Ashley, the kids, and the Lombardi trophy. Crazily enough, it’s actually working! We’ve just won the AFC championship and earned our spot in the motherfucking Super Bowl for the first time since 1969.

It feels good to have something to be proud of finally, like a light at the end of the tunnel reminding me that hard work always pays off. I just need to keep it up, and I’m sure I’ll get what I’m aiming for.

Chapter 11

Ashley

 

I’m so tired. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with two jobs. If this is how tired I am at twenty-two weeks, I can’t imagine I’ll be able to keep this pace up for much longer. Tonight in particular was super busy, but what else can you expect from a sports bar on Super Bowl Sunday when one of the hometown teams is playing?

It was bittersweet for me to watch Tanner play the game of his life from the bar. Even though I’m still infuriated with him, I’m happy and proud for him and the team. I don’t even know if I really am infuriated anymore. All of his texts and deliveries have been starting to soften my anger. He’s clearly playing right into my current hormonal state, and whether I’m angry or not, I can’t deny he deserves the win. He’s put in the work.

Most towns in the area have been decked out in Jets regalia for days already, and there hasn’t been a corner to turn lately without finding a Jets flag waving or Tanner’s picture on display. All the bandwagon jumpers have been out en masse, and even some of the Giants fans are Jets crazy right now, local pride trumping team loyalty.

I’m pretty sure all the bars were just as packed as
Legends was tonight with everyone out drinking and celebrating. Naturally, the more alcohol people drink, the faster they drink it, so the later it got, the more I had to run around like crazy. My ever-growing bump makes it hard to squeeze between the packed tables and crowds of people. On top of that, my feet hurt from all the extra walking, and my back is killing me from carrying trays.

I can’t wait to get home and fall asleep, and I can’t get to my car fast enough after my shift. It’s freezing even for February, and I really need a new coat. This one is getting way too snug in the belly area.

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