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I just laugh. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I do know your daughter. Actually, I promise you, I know her a hell of a lot better than you. Phoebe is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. She’s caring, determined, independent, passionate, and deserves the world. Do you have any idea why she’s on this team? Have you even asked her if she’s enjoying her time as a college athlete? Maybe she wants to study abroad. Maybe she wants to join a sorority. You wouldn’t have a damn clue because you don’t care about what she wants,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Don’t you dare call her selfish again. She is hands down the most selfless person I know. She does everything for your approval, yet you do nothing but belittle her. You can’t even show up for her fucking games. What a sorry excuse for parents,” I add, shaking my head.
“Who do you think you are?” Charles huffs after a moment of stunned silence. “I’ll have you know that I’m well acquainted with every board member of this university. I’m sure they would love to hear how their new softball coach is talking to parents, tossing out curse words left and right. I have never met someone as unprofessional as you.” He’s red again, possibly redder than he was speaking with Phoebe.
I. See. Red. “First, I know exactly who I’m talking to - one of the most self-righteous, narcissistic people on the goddamn planet. Second, go ahead and tell the board, Charles.I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.My godfather, Coach Dan Cook, would be happy to give them a call on my behalf,” I reply with a devious grin.
“I see… so that’s how you got this job. It really is all about who you know, isn't it?” Charles asks, as if he’s trying to bait me into a deeper argument.
“Oh no, I’m not falling for your games. It may work on Phoebe because you're her parents, but not me. I see right through both of you. If there’s anyone who cares about namesakes, it’s you two. That’s the reason you’re here tonight, right? To sip expensive liquor and use your daughter to maintain your image? Do either of you know what Phoebe enjoys doing in her free time? Do you know that she loves reading and watching the sunrise? Do you know what music she likes or who her best friend is? What about her birthday a few weeks ago? Did you even pick up the phone? I’m sure you didn't. You’re both fucking worthless,” I seethe.
Shit, I just gave too much away.I couldn't help myself, and I don’t regret a single word.
“I’m curious,Knox,” Ann elongates my name, remembering that Phoebe let it slip earlier. “How doyouknow our daughter so well?”
Shit, shit, shit.
Thankfully, there’s a useful lie right on the tip of my tongue. “I’m her coach. I’m with her every day for long periods of time. We do team building exercises. On top of that, it’s my job to know what’s going on in her life. If a player is distracted by their personal life or having a bad day, I could very easily be putting them in harm's way sending them out on the field. You know what’s ironic, though? I’ve only been in Phoebe’s life for a few short months and already know more about her than her own parents. That says a lot about your character, so stop questioning mine.”
Charles and Ann stare at me in shock, completely speechless. I hold their stare for what feels like minutes, not backing down.
“Ann, we’re leaving,” Charles barks, finally breaking the silence. He straightens his tie and stands from the table.
“Well, this was a lovely conversation,” Ann bites in my direction. “You sure do know how to charm your guests.” A hideous fake smile stretches across her face. Charles clenches his jaw before tugging on Ann’s hand and stalking out of the room. I give them a little wave as they go.
After they leave, my mind doesn't take a second to process the conversation because it goes straight to Phoebe.I need to find her.Luckily, I’ve already made my rounds, so I don’t have any more introductions to make. It’s getting late and the alcohol is flowing, the guests oblivious to what's going on around them. I should be staying until the event ends, holding doors and wishing everyone a goodnight, but finding Phoebe is all I can think about right now.
I’ve been a fucking mess these past two weeks. I’ve tried to push her away and act like what happened between us was just a fling, but I can’t fool myself, and I can’t deny it any longer. She deserves someone to reciprocate the love she gives so freely, and I’ll be damned if it’s anyone but me.
There’ve been so many moments I’ve wanted to call Phoebe and apologize for pushing her away. I couldn't even bring myself to wash my sheets after she left, because they still smelled like her. Everything reminds me of Phoebe. I’ve been running every morning to clear my head, and I stop each time to watch the sunrise. Each day, I hope like hell I’ll run into her, just for an excuse to hear her voice. After two weeks of feeling numb and just going through the motions, I finally decided this morning that I need to talk to her. I just didn't plan on it happening tonight. If life without Phoebe is this hollow, I can’t stand to live another day without her.
She needs to know how I feel about her. I’ve finally come to terms with the notion that I would risk it all for a chance to be with her. I would risk my career, everything I’ve worked for, to have a chance to be the man who makes her happy. Our relationship wouldn't be easy, but we could figure it out together. Phoebe voiced this on numerous occasions, and each time, I’ve shut it down. At the end of the day, we’re both adults, and my job is just a job. There are plenty of other coaching jobs available. No career is worth giving up someone who means the world to you, someone you love.Fuck, do I love her?I’m not sure, but whatever this is, it’s the strongest emotion I’ve ever felt.
I’ve put her through absolute hell.I’m no better than her parents at this point. I have to find her and try to make her understand how sorry I am. She may never forgive me, but I need to explain myself at the very least. I don’t ever want her to feel like she’s the reason I’ve been ignoring her. I’m just so fucking conflicted. My reasoning for abandoning her after her birthday is because ofmyinner turmoil, not because my feelings have changed or lessened, which I’m sure is what she’s thinking.
If she only knew my feelings for her keep me going each day. The highlight of my days is hearing her laugh or catching quick glimpses of her golden hair and magnetic smile. God, she’s such an incredible person.My person.I just pray I didn’t push her away for the last time. My first thought is to call her. I tap her contact in my phone and immediately get her voicemail. I try calling her a few more times, only to get the same voice message each try.
“Fuck,” I curse.Should I ask Maisie where Phoebe is?No, that would be too obvious.
Running my hands through my hair in frustration, my eyes roam around the room and lock on to the view beyond the massive glass windows. Moonlight shimmers across the ocean, like a spotlight that will lead me straight to her. I’m assuming her parents drove her here, meaning she either took an Uber back to her apartment or she went to be near the ocean, letting each wave soothe her pain.
Pushing through the double doors, I follow the bamboo walkway to the hotel beach. As soon as my feet hit sand, I swivel my head, frantically searching for her. No one is out here, not a single soul. Knowing Phoebe wouldn't want to be found, I decide to explore further down the beach, hoping like hell she’s out here. Right as I’m about to abandon my search, I spot a small body off in the distance, curled up in a ball against the sand.
Squinting my eyes to get a better view, the moonlight hits her just right, and I spy strands of her golden hair flowing across her dress, the material glittering in the sand.My beautiful, broken girl.
My first thought is to run to her, but I’m worried I’ll startle her. The last thing I need is for her to run away before I have a chance to explain; I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. I’ve been a complete dick to her.
As I approach Phoebe, I slowly kneel behind her. Luckily, the sand muted the sound of my footsteps, making her oblivious to the fact that I’m less than a foot away from her back. I immediately notice her shoulders shaking from her soft cries. I want so badly to reach out and hold her; I hate knowing I’m part of the reason she’s so broken.I hate myself for how I’ve treated her.
“Phoebe…” I whisper it like a prayer, and she doesn't even flinch when her name leaves my lips. Assuming she can’t hear me over the waves, I softly place my hand on her bare shoulder.
“Bee, it’s me, Knox,” I call a little louder, giving her shoulder a light brush. As soon as she feels my touch, her body jerks and she bolts up to sit in front of me. Her eyes widen in fear as she tries to register who just creeped up on her in the black of night.
“Jesus Christ, Knox! What the hell? You scared the shit out of me!” she shouts, jumping to her feet and putting a few feet of distance between us.
My still-outstretched arm drops as I whisper-shout in her direction. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I inch toward her, not wanting to scare her away like a spooked animal.
“What do you want, Knox?” she asks dryly.
