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Chapter 31
Brett
After our talk between the sheets, we have to get dressed and get back to reality. But I don’t want to let go of Jenna. Not just yet. I’ve only just managed to get her back, and I’m very aware that our time together is running out.
I know I want to be with her. I know I want to make this work. I just don’t know how yet.
But we’ll figure it out because I know she wants the same thing. Right now, though, I have other things to think about. I need to help my friend out of a shit show he got himself involved in. I need to help him get out of it and win back the woman he loves. No relationship as solid as theirs should be ruin by a stupid mistake.
Jenna and I shower together. We wash each other, touching, kissing, washing, and we talk about our plan of action. We need to get Stacey and Marc talking to each other again. But first, I need to get Marc out of the mess he made. And Jenna wants to fix her friendship with Stacey, too. I don’t know how we’re going to pull it off—it’s a tall order. But more impossible things have already happened. Like the fact that Jenna and I are together, in love, and planning to stay that way.
After the asshole I was to her in high school, and the ridiculous blow-up at the wedding last night, I can’t believe we ended up together after all. Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. I’m usually the guy who fucks and forgets.
But not with her. She’s the one that changes everything. The one that got away…and came back again.
She’s the one that changed my life forever.
After we kiss each other goodbye, I drop her off at the hotel where Stacey and her parents are still staying. At least, that’s what we’re hoping for. I don’t have time to find out if they’re still there—I look for Marc.
He’s not staying at the hotel anymore, but I expected that. And I know of only one place a man like Marc will be when he needs to deal with a fucked-up situation.
I drive to the training grounds where I nearly killed myself off this morning.
The building is quiet, with all the players resting and generating enough energy for a hell of a game tomorrow. But a lone player trains on the field, working himself into the ground.
When I jog to him, Marc stops. He braces his hands on his knees, breathing hard. His face is red, but his eyes are redder. He’s had a shit night.
“You’re going to kill yourself off if you do this,” I say to him, much the same way Colin pulled me back from the edge.
“Yeah? Would that be such a terrible thing?”
“Come on, man, don’t be an asshole.”
Marc shakes his head. “Too late for that. Fuck.”
He straightens up, wincing. When he pinches the skin on his side, I know he’s struggling to breathe around the pain that comes with training too hard, for too long.
“We should talk,” I say.
“What’s there to say? I fucked up.”
I shake my head and walk to a bench in the shade. I find a water bottle and hold it out from where I’m standing. Marc watches me from the middle of the field where he still looks like he’s about to fall over. Finally, he gives in. His shoulders sag, his arms hang by his side. He looks defeated. Railroaded.
He nods and walks on wobbly legs to me, taking the water bottle I offer him. He drops himself onto the bench that groans under his weight, and he squirts water all over his face before he drinks some of it, too.
I watch as he tries to pull himself together but the man is a mess.
“Do you want to tell me what you were thinking?” I ask.
Marc shakes his head, staring out over the field rather than making eye contact with me. His hair clings to his face along his hairline, he’s got smears of dirt on his face, and dark circles beneath his eyes after a night of no sleep. I don’t doubt that he’s been through hell and back since the wedding.
“Why would you risk your career like that?” I asked. “You’re a good player, and shit has always gone well for you. I don’t get it.”
Marc looks down at his hands. “I lost a shit ton of money. I made a bad investment, some risky bullshit my advisor thought would be a good idea. How the fuck was I supposed to tell Stacey that we’re starting our new life with nothing?”
“How much did you lose?” This isn’t any of my business, but I’m making it my business. Marc should fire his financial advisor. Or strangle the guy. But shit like this can happen to anyone. Investments are a good idea when they’re solid, but not all of them are, and Marc isn’t the first to lose money. He’s also not the last—shit happens to everyone.
It’s all in the way we bounce back.
