“I can’t make it, Ace,” I stuttered, my voice sounding like gravel under a boot. “I have some meetings this week with some sponsorship opportunities, and I can’t miss them.” Repeating what my text already told him.
The silence on the other end had been devastating. He didn’t get angry. He just let out a disappointed breath. “Huh. Okay, Aston. I get it. I’ll take Mom. Like you said, she deserves some glitter and glam.”
I couldn’t tell him the truth yet. I didn’t want to be the one who ruined the biggest night of his career so far.
And I should be standing beside Eva, taking her hand before we walk into the biggest night of football.
Instead, I froze.
I made a decision, and I should take it like a man.
So why does it hurt this much?
It isn't because I'm missing an awards show. There will be others.
It's because I'm missing our night.
The night we've talked about. The memories we're supposed to make. The first time we get to walk into a room together instead of meeting each other there.
I want to find her face the second I walk into the room. I want her hand in mine when the nerves hit. I want the drive home where she laughs at whatever stupid thing I say after one too many celebratory drinks.
I don't miss the event.
I miss her.
Somewhere along the way, she stops being the woman I'm dating and becomes the person I want beside me for every moment that matters.
The thought of her standing there alone, wondering why I didn't choose her …
That hurts more than missing the biggest night of my career ever could.
Because this isn't about brotherly loyalty anymore.
It's about Eva.
I'm in love with her.
So instead of choosing one over the other, I froze and let the clock run out on both of them, really. Ace took Mom in my place, and I’d let Eva’s last text go unanswered.
The camera shifts before a commercial break, and the announcer lets viewers know which celebrity athletes are coming up next. The camera tracks away from the stage during the transition and sweeps across it into a backstage, behind-the-scenes look. It’s a wide shot of the crew, and that’s when I see her.
My breath catches in my throat.
She’s standing next to her dad in a stunning black dress, looking like she’s in complete control of the room. Her eyes are alert, and her lips move as she speaks to her dad.
But I know her face. I know the tight set of her jaw means she’s stressed. She’s not breaking though.
I stare at her on the screen, a weight pressing down on my chest until it's hard to breathe. She asked me to be there because she wanted me by her side. Because she wants the world to know who holds her heart. She gave me the opening, and I left her out there without any support. All because I didn’t have the courage to tell my twin brother that I’m in love with his ex.
My thumb hovers over her name anyway.
Call.
Text.
Apologize.
None of it feels big enough.
