Page 93 of Beyond the Game


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“We ate our weight in junk food last night,” I remind her.

“Don’t care. We need breakfast.”

“Well, get moving, lazybones. We can hit the hotel restaurant on our way out.”

“Good plan. You shower first,” she says, snuggling back into her pillow. “Hey, P?”

“Yeah?”

“You sure this is what you want to do? Put in your resignation?”

“It’s what I have to do for him. It’s the right thing.”

“Then why break up with him?”

“I need to shower,” I say, ignoring her. I don’t really know what I’m doing. It feels as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest. Maybe once this all blows over, he’ll forgive me and we can find our way back to each other? If not, well, at least I know that I did what was right.

I toss my pillow at her and throw the covers off, climbing out of bed—my body protests from exhaustion. Maybe, just maybe, when I get home, I’ll be tired enough to at least take a nap. I can’t keep running on fumes. Something has to give. It’s just hard to sleep without him.

I wave to the security guard, flashing my badge as I make my way into the stadium. The sounds of my footsteps echo off the walls. It’s a complete contrast from game days. Then this place is busting at the seams with excited fans. I like it both ways. Loud and boisterous, as well as quiet and calm.

Stepping on the elevator, I hit the button to take me to the top floor, where all the offices and conference rooms are located. When the doors slide open, I’m not surprised to see that the desk where Uncle Drew’s secretary usually sits is empty. It is Saturday, after all. Making my way down the hall, I stop outside his office and knock on the open door.

“There she is.” Uncle Drew smiles. He stands from his desk and walks toward me. My feet carry me into his office, meeting him halfway. He wraps his strong arms around me in a hug and ushers me to sit at one of the chairs across from his desk. “How are you?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. I see the worry in his eyes.

I shrug. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Talking helps,” he counters.

“Please? Don’t make me do this.” It’s a plea that I shouldn’t be asking for. I know that tucked in my purse sits a plain white envelope with my resignation letter. My hands tremble, so I grip them into fists to keep him from noticing. “Actually, I do need to talk to you. I have something to tell you.” I reach down to my purse, and freeze when my name is called.

“Paisley.” I hear my name called from the door, and I close my eyes. This can’t be happening.

Snapping my eyes open, I glare at Uncle Drew. “Did you set me up?” I accuse.

“No.”

“He and I are meeting today. I was just stopping in before hitting the gym,” Cameron says, his voice now closer than before.

I keep my eyes locked on my uncle. “You didn’t think that was important to tell me?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t anticipate an issue,” he defends.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and my body instantly relaxes. His touch has always been able to do that for me. “I’ll go,” Cameron says softly. “But can we maybe talk later? When you’re done here?”

“Cam.” I sigh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, staring down at my lap.

His hand rests under my chin, and he lifts my head to look at him. His eyes are red as if he hasn’t been sleeping, and he’s a wreck. His hair looks as if he’s been constantly running his fingers through it, and the sadness I see in his eyes has tears welling up in mine. “I can’t do this, baby. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t do life without you.”

I slap my hand over my mouth to keep a sob from breaking free as I shake my head. “Why are you doing this? I know you, Paisley. I can see it on you too. You’re exhausted, and you’re fighting me at every turn. I told you I would fix this, and I did.”

“Cameron,” Uncle Drew speaks up. “Why don’t you give us some time? I’ll text you when I’m ready for you.”

Cameron nods. He leans in, placing a kiss on my cheek as he whispers, “I love you,” before walking out the door.

I’m able to hold it in maybe a solid ten seconds before a sob breaks free and the tears that I was holding back begin to fall. A box of tissues appears in front of me, and I yank out a handful. Uncle Drew takes the seat next to me. He rubs his hand gently up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

“Paisley, I need you to tell me why you broke things off with him.”

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