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He rubbed a hand across his face. Staring at me as if his eyes could make me melt. Like they’d make my heart throb and jump into my throat. The way they did when we first met. My stomach was doing flips, but more so because I could throw up staring at him. The thought of him laying up with someone else, between her legs… I couldn’t even imagine it.
“Like that,” he shrugged, “you’ll end our relationship. We were going to get married. Start a family.” He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away.
“Don’t,” I warned. “You can’t come here and do that. I didn’t do this to us. You did. You decided I wasn’t enough. That you could find someone else to satisfy you. Are you standing here like none of that happened? Or do you actually think I should forgive you, forget it happened, and move on?”
“Gianna, I fucked up. What else do you want me to say?”
I couldn’t think of one other thing I wanted him to say. Or do. Not for me. “Nothing.” I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t want you to say, or do, anything. Not a single thing. Not another word or syllable. I want you to accept that you did this to us. And that I’m over you. I’m over everything that was, and anything that would have ever been.”
He sucked his breath and stared at me. “Like that?”
“Like that.”
He turned over his shoulder and asked, “Is it because you are fucking him?” He looked back at me with a scowl on his face. In all the years we spent together, we didn’t argue much. The little fights we did have, I never feared it’d escalate beyond words. When he got to the point where he grew tired of fighting, of arguing, I’d give him space. Never in all that time did I see his face look like it did in front of me.
In all my relationships, cheating was never on the table. If there was ever a point when I stopped having feelings for the guy, I’d move on. Break up, take some time, then explore my options. I never wanted anyone to feel the way I did finding out about Shawn. “It’s not because I’m with Angelo.” I searched his eyes. The pain was there. His heart ached like mine. When he sniffed, I said, “It shouldn’t matter now, but we met last week. I never disrespected our relationship.”
His mouth opened wide, and he uttered, “Wow.” He shook his head. “You met him last week.” He pointed to my robe then over his shoulder. “And he’s already sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night?”
“You let go so easy. Found someone else with the quickness.” He shook his head. “Did you ever even love me?”
That felt like a knife in the back twisting slowly. “With everything I had.” I looked down at my bare feet. “I thought you felt the same.”
“I did—”
“Our definition of love is not the same. I would have never hurt you the way you hurt me. Days before our wedding?” In the heat of the desert, I felt a chill against my arm. “Whatever this is. This middle of the night regret, you can keep it.”
“A little money. Some fame. That’s all it took, huh?”
“Excuse me,” I shouted. I outstretched my finger. “You fucked up. You slept with someone else.”I waved my hand in the air. “Whoever that was. Don’t try to shame me for moving on. For the upgrade God blessed me with after dealing with you.”
He scoffed again. “You know what. You’re right. I’m glad this shit is over. You aren’t the person I thought you were. Apparently.” He turned to walk away, and I slammed the door.
I didn’t allow a single tear to fall as I leaned my back against it. I coaxed my breathing to slow, and my mind to stop racing. Long enough for my heart to stop beating against my chest, and my fists to unclench. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to face Shawn the way I did.
Fourteen days didn’t feel like enough time for me to grow. But so much else happened, growth didn’t surprise me.
ChapterEighteen
Angelo
After seeing Gigi’s ex at the front door, I wanted to suit up as a linebacker. I could have knocked a couple of three-hundred-pound men to the ground that day. But the vets were at training camp. Instead of imagining her ex’s scrawny ass opposing me, I was on the sidelines watching Mario Watt. Phoenix Fury’s starting quarterback. He held the position for four years after a trade from Denver. With a ten-year career, he knew all the plays, and exercised them with precision. Even the way he warmed up was next level. Throwing balls down field like a rocket through the air.
Although I wanted his spot, standing on the sidelines, there was much I could learn from him. As he huddled with the offense, I watched him call the play and jump into the snap. He didn’t hesitate, and that was one of his power moves. He kept the ball moving, and the defense tired.
During the play, defense had his men under pressure. I watched him hesitate. Not something that would benefit him. If he couldn’t find a move soon, one of those players would blitz him. I cringed watching him run to the sidelines. “Damn,” I mumbled as he ran back to the center of the field to prepare for the next play.
Instead of watching his strengths, I started to obsess over his weaknesses. From the way he held the ball loosely in the air before releasing it, to the consistency of his throws. I noted how long he had to hold onto the ball. Each play revealed a different weakness. In comparison to my own, we both had room to improve.
“Damn man, you know every hair on his body by know, huh?” Forrest stood beside me staring at Mario on the field too. “Over here plotting how you can outshine him?”
I shook my head. “What you talking about?”
“You. That wildebeest doesn’t stand a chance against you, Mufasa.”
I laughed. “Bruh. What?”
He tapped my shoulder. “That man better watch out, you about to lunge at his ass. Take him right on out.” Forrest was on the sidelines with me, but he wouldn’t be for long. He’d be starting in the first game of the season. He didn’t have to watch as intently as I did. He knew his spot was secure.
