Page 2 of Shattered Dreams

I glance at my watch, knowing I’m already going to be late. Maybe I should just stay. Cancel this weekend with the guys I haven’t seen since college. I reach out to run my fingers through Rylee’s soft brown hair, which she refuses to get cut because only Mommy was allowed to cut her hair.

No, I can’t cancel. I need this weekend. I need to breathe and do something before I lose my mind, and I can’t have that. I’m not used to being this still. Even in the off-season, I’m constantly running. Coordinating practices, gym routines, doing interviews, and of course, strategizing how we’re going to be the champions again.

With a sigh, I move to the end of the bed, kneeling beside it. I put my hand on Rylee’s back, and she jerks out of my touch.

“I promise the next time I have to go somewhere, you can come with me,” I say softly. She doesn’t answer. “We can go somewhere fun before you start school this year.” Again, not a single peep. “I’ll bring Bacon J. Ham a new friend.”

Bribing her isn’t the way to go about things, I know that. But I’m out of ideas. I don’t know what else to do to make my kid not be mad at me.

Maybe stop leaving all the time.

I’m really fucking trying.

I kiss the back of her head.

“Love you, pumpkin. I’ll be home in a few days.”

I close the door behind me and hug my mother goodbye on my way to the door.

“Call me when you get there.”

“Make sure you tell Dad I said bye.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

My mother smiles at me, that same smile that feels real, but all I see behind it is the worry. She’s always so worried about me. Especially these days.

My head is screaming at me to turn around and go back inside to stay with my daughter. To not leave her side again, and make sure she knows that I’m not going anywhere… at least, not for a while. I will always be back.

The ache in my chest grows until I feel like I can’t breathe. I walk like a zombie to the SUV waiting at the bottom of the driveway. It’s only when I pull open the door and see Paul in the driver’s seat, that air fills my lungs again.

“Is there room in the back?”

He smirks. “Left room just for you.”

A smile crosses my face that I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

Paul is my best friend. The only person who really knows what I’m going through—who has ever known. Who needs a therapist when I have him?

He gets out of the car, opens the trunk, and helps me put my bags in, even though I am completely capable of doing it myself.

“You ready for this epic reunion road trip?” he asks.

I huff out a laugh. “I’m just ready to be there, drink too much, see everyone for a few minutes, then come home.”

“And see the circus,” Paul says humorously.

I can’t help but roll my eyes and shake my head.

“I told you it’s not the circus.”

We both get in and buckle our seatbelts.

“Yes, it is. It’s in the name. Circus So-lail or whatever.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Cirque De Soleil.”

Paul shrugs. “Whatever. We’re still going.”