“Rory! Stop trying to counsel Ashton to get out of work,” Aubrey said. Rory rolled her eyes with a smile and went back into the kitchen.
Charlotte was coloring in an Alice in Wonderland coloring book on the coffee table. I was a little envious of her and how easy her life was, to be able to get caught up in an art project and tune out the rest of the world.
She caught me looking at her and offered me a crayon. “Want to color?”
I took the blue crayon and sat down next to her on the floor. I colored on the left page, while she colored on the right. It was soothing and relaxing to focus all of my efforts on what I was doing, making something beautiful with my niece.
I put down the blue crayon and reached for the green, intending to color in some grass in my picture. I must have been gripping the crayon too hard when I started shading, because I managed to both break the sharpened tip and snap the crayon in half.
The wax paper made it so that the pieces still dangled together, but it was broken and useless.
Like me.
“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked.
I held up the crayon. “I broke it. I need to toss it out.”
She took it from me and peeled back the paper. “It’s fine, Aunt Ashton. Broken crayons can still color. See?”
At that I sobbed, like a dam had burst inside me, unleashing tears I didn’t even know I had.
Charlotte came over and put her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
I hoped she was right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Turned out that Charlotte was right. So was Rory.
And even my mom.
I started to exercise and went back to my intramural basketball league, and everyone there was thrilled to see me. I kept my eyes away from the bleachers during the games, not wanting to remember what it was like to have Evan there cheering me on. I even went with my teammates to sing karaoke. My heart wasn’t really in it.
I hoped someday it would be.
Christmas came and went, and I moved into my old room at my parents’ house. Which still looked just as it had when I’d left for college. I decided that if I was living here, I was going to have a grown-up room. After I’d unpacked all my clothes, I pulled down the bulletin board where I’d thumbtacked ticket stubs and pictures from high school. As I peeled off the layers of photos, I found some candid pictures of Evan in our basement that I had forgotten about.
The pain was swift and fierce, and I had to sit down for a second until it passed.
It was like the moment that I heard about his renegotiated contract. Evan Dawson was currently the highest-paid athlete in the NFL. The numbers, nine figures, were mind-boggling. I was really, truly happy for him. He deserved it. And even though I was quietly cheering him on, I’d had to fight off the urge to curl up in the fetal position and stay in bed for three days, until everyone stopped reporting about it.
I missed him so much.
Besides aching for Evan and going through the motions of my life, I had plenty of time to think. Turned out my mom was actually a pretty good therapist, and her insights turned out to be, well, insightful.
I did ignore my problems. I did always try to take the easy way out.
I had justified the bad decisions I’d made, even trying to share the blame. Like when I’d accused Evan of lying, too. He had been right. The two things weren’t even remotely similar. I’d just wanted an excuse for my terrible behavior. I’d been deflecting and ignoring just how badly I’d betrayed him.
I’d betrayed him beyond belief, and it caused me pain on a daily basis. I’d taken his trust, something he didn’t give lightly, and I’d smashed it all to pieces.
For what? Nothing. Nothing excused or rationalized the choices I’d made.
I was weak; I was wrong; I was selfish.
And I needed to confess that all to him.
So I did one of the scariest things I’d ever done. I didn’t call or text, thinking that would again be me taking the easy way out. I couldn’t go to his house, not knowing if he’d let me into his sanctuary.
Instead, I went to the stadium. I called in yet another favor with Nia, who had Malik contact one of the security guards to let me in. I waited outside the locker room after practice, wearing sunglasses and a hat, hoping that the few reporters there wouldn’t recognize me.
I watched as players filed out of the locker room at different times—I knew the quarterbacks and offensive linemen would be among the last to leave.
Then . . . there he was. My heart leaped at the sight of him, crashing hard into my chest. Hope and fear warred inside me. I opened my mouth, and no words came out. But as if I’d spoken his name, Evan turned and saw me.
His hand tightened on his duffel bag as his mouth stretched into a thin line.
My first instinct was to think that this was a mistake. That I should leave and not bother him ever again.
“Easy way out,” I muttered, making my way over to him. Time to be strong and to act.
He watched me approach, and just like during a game, his face didn’t give away anything of what he was feeling.
“Hi. Can we talk? Please?” My voice shook, my words running all together.
Evan nodded curtly and then said, “This way.”
I followed him to the players’ parking lot, ignoring the curious looks from his teammates as we climbed into his SUV. He threw his bag in the back seat and then faced front, his hands on the steering wheel. I wanted to reach out. Hug him. Find a way to make this better.
I’d lost that right.
Folding my arms, I told myself I could do this. “Just because I can’t say it enough, I’m sorry. I screwed up. Royally.”
He didn’t respond.
“And I know saying those words isn’t a magical forgiveness token. I wanted to explain and to own my actions. When we . . .” I took in a deep breath. “When we talked at the ISEN station, I was freaking out. I wanted to excuse what I had done. And there’s no excuse.”
I gulped, trying to keep my voice steady. “When Brenda told us she wanted to prove you weren’t a virgin, it was like I couldn’t volunteer fast enough. It was a chance to get back at you. To try and hurt you the way you’d hurt me. I thought I hated you. It’s been a decade, but I was still so angry at you. And then you told me the truth. I believed you. I didn’t want to, but I did. You were just so wonderful and amazing. My feelings changed.”
Evan shook his head, as if denying what I was saying.
“I’ve always been overly competitive. And I wanted this announcing job more than anything. I thought I had to be ruthless. Ambitious. Cut down everything in my path to get what I wanted. Especially when no one in my life believed I could do it. Except for you.” My voice caught, and I took a second to collect myself. “You were open and vulnerable and so generous with me. And I betrayed all of that. I repaid it by being deceitful and selfish. I tried to equalize the playing field by accusing you of lying, but you were right. They weren’t even remotely the same. I was being defensive and lashing out because I was so panicked by the idea of losing you. I was so focused on my pain and my loss that I didn’t stop to really consider how deeply I must have hurt you.”
This time he nodded and shifted in his seat.
“I think about that all the time now, how I must have hurt you, and it destroys me.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
I rushed on, wanting to get all the words out. “When it comes to my job, I’m all about risky moves. But in my personal life? Not really. My mom thinks it goes back to that high school stuff. That I’m afraid to be unguarded and trust people.” I looked down at my hands. “And I should have trusted in us. In what we had. I knew for a long time that things were ruined at work because I chose you over them. I should have quit weeks before I did.”
“You quit?” he asked, and the sound of his voice pierced me like an arrow.
“Yes. I know, too little too late. And Brenda offere
d me the world if I would sign the release form. I walked out instead.”
His body shifted toward me, his gaze trained on my face, and I tried not to read too much into it. “I wish you’d told me in the beginning.”
“If I’d told you, then what? We would have had a good laugh and moved on?” I let out a sigh. There I was, doing it again. Rationalizing my stupidity. “Sorry. You’re right. I should have been honest with you. I shouldn’t have taken that choice from you. I should have been up-front and let you decide for yourself whether or not you wanted to be with me. I was just scared of the consequences. I’m sorry.”
“Ashton . . .”
I heard the regret in his voice. Not that I had expected anything from him, but there was a tone of finality that made me want to start crying.
“I know there’s no excuse for what happened. No apology that I can offer that makes things better. Only that I promise to never do it again. I don’t mean to be presumptuous. If you never want to see me again, I understand. It will kill me, but I get it.”
I cleared my throat, blinking hard before continuing. “My feelings for you haven’t changed. I love you. Always have, and I always will. So if you ever think you’d be able to trust me again, I’ll be here.”
I was moments away from bursting into sobs. And that wasn’t what this was about. I wasn’t going to cry on his shoulder and feel sorry for myself. I had to go. I opened the car door and got out, taking him in one last time, not knowing if this would be the last time I’d see him in person. “And I’ll be waiting.”
Walking away from his car was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. But since I hadn’t let him make a choice about us in the first place, I was going to give that to him now.
He didn’t contact me. Which seemed to be his answer to my offer. I held out hope since he didn’t say anything to the media about our relationship ending, but I had to admit it was over. I needed to move on as best as I could with my life. I reached out to all the people in my social media network, telling them I was looking for a job with a sports station. I had accepted the fact that I’d probably have to move away from my family, but I was okay with it. Obviously I would miss them, but maybe it would be better for me to start over in a new city, where I wouldn’t be plagued by memories of Evan.
My online plea for help seemed to have worked, as a couple of weeks after talking to Evan in his car, I got a phone call. “Hello?”
“Hi. I’m looking for Ashton Bailey.”
“This is her.” I expected it to be a collections agent. I’d had a bit of an issue staying current with things like my credit card bills. I probably could have gone to my parents for financial help, but I needed to retain some dignity.
“Hi, my name is Marian Monson. I’m the human resources director for KPRD.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m calling because your name was recommended to me. Our news and sports director is looking for an assistant, and I think you’d be excellent.” She mentioned the salary, which was more than I’d ever hoped to make with my first real paying job and even included benefits. She didn’t have to sell me, though; I was in. “Would you mind coming in for an interview tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’d love to! Yes!”
“Great.” She laughed. “How’s eleven o’clock?”
“Perfect!”
She promised to send me an email with the address and parking information for their building.
An actual job interview! I couldn’t believe it.
“I’m looking forward to it, Ashton.”
“Me too. And wait, before you go, can I ask you a question?”
“Absolutely. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Who recommended me for the job?” I wanted to know who to thank. There were a lot of possibilities. Maybe it had been Nia. Or Scooter Buxton.
“It was Evan Dawson.”
For a second I couldn’t breathe. Evan had recommended me? I thanked her, and we hung up, allowing me to have a full freak-out.
Why had Evan recommended me? And why now? Did this mean something? Had he started to forgive me? Or was he just being nice?
But why would he be nice?
Hope bloomed in my chest. Did he still love me? Was there a chance for us to get back together?
Before I could consider the repercussions too closely, I took out my phone and texted him.
A lot? It meant everything. That he was thinking about me. Still cared. Had worried about me. But that was too much to put into a supposedly casual text.
I saw the three scrolling dots, and my breath kept catching, waiting to see if he would actually reply or if he would just ignore me.
He hadn’t asked me. It was almost more like a command. Maybe he was afraid to ask. Fearful that I might say no.
He couldn’t possibly have known there was no way I could have denied him anything right then. And of course I was going to the game. Even if I’d been skipping games lately, it was the last playoff round before the Super Bowl, and there was no way I was going to miss it. I needed my Jacks to make a repeat appearance.
I needed Evan to have all the success in the world because he deserved it. My hands were shaking so hard that I had to retype my reply, like, fourteen times because I kept hitting the wrong buttons.
He didn’t respond right away, but I didn’t need him to. I mean, I would have liked it, but it was enough that he was actually communicating with me. I didn’t need for everything to be resolved today.
But my conviction to stay strong wasn’t helped when he texted:
Knowing that Evan missed me gave me an inner strength I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The next day went amazingly well. The interview was a slam dunk—it was like the job had been tailor-made for me. Marian told me there was a lot of room for advancement after I told her my hope was to be a commentator for KPRD someday. She mentioned that Keith Collinsworth planned on retiring in a few years, and they would find his replacement in-house. And they would support me along that career path. Marian and I were completely in sync in every question and answer, so much so that I felt like I’d known her for forever. At the end she told me to “expect to hear from us very, very soon.”
Thankfully, she didn’t ask me for any references from my old position.
And sure enough, as promised, she called the next day to offer me the job. I eagerly accepted and went out with my family to celebrate. I was tempted to call Evan and invite him along but worried it might be too much too soon. I didn’t want to rush him if he was getting to a point where he felt like he could forgive me. Maybe we wouldn’t get back together right away, and that had to be okay. Just having the chance to make this better was enough for now.
The morning of the game I tailgated with my parents, wanting to be close to where Evan was going to be. He was most likely already inside, and it took everything I had to not go searching for him.
Rory told me that, out of solidarity with me, my family had stopped using Evan’s luxury box when we broke up. I didn’t even know if it was still available to us, and I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to hear that the answer was no. We sat in our old season ticket seats. Aubrey and Justin had left the kids at home as it was a ridiculously cold day. The sun was shining, the sky a bright blue that reminded me of Evan’s eyes, but super cold.
When the team came out on the field, I got to my feet, trying to find his jersey. I spotted him, and my heart skipped about thirty beats in a row. It’s a wonder I didn’t pass out cold on the concrete.
The pregame formalities were over, and the kickoff commenced. Everyone yelled, “Timber!” but I was totally focused on Evan standing on the sidelines.
And how nicely he filled out his football pants.
Now whenever the Jacks offense went in to play, I was more worried than ever about him getting sacked. One, because I didn’t want him to get seriously hurt or maimed or concussed in any way; two, because he needed to keep playing so that the Jacks would win the game and go to th
e Super Bowl; and three, because I really wanted him to be conscious so we could talk after the game.
Because that had to be the whole point of this, right? That’s why he wanted me at the game? So we could sort things out?
Evan took a few hits that had me back up on my feet and yelling at the refs, but nothing he didn’t stand up and walk away from.
At the end of the first half, the Jacks were up by a touchdown. I would have preferred a much bigger lead. I turned to Rory. “Do you want to get some snacks? Stop by the bathroom?”
Weirdly, she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Nope. I want to stay right here. And so do you.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
I was about to ask her what she was up to when a cameraman turned his camera on us. My whole family was up on the Jumbotron for the kiss camera. So my parents kissed, and Aubrey and Justin kissed. It was sweet, if a tad bit nauseating.
When they were done, the cameraman continued to stand there, his camera pointed at me. I turned toward Rory. “Just so you know, I don’t care what he wants. I’m not kissing you.”
“Good. I don’t want you to kiss me.”
“Why is he just standing there?”
Music rose up from the field, and there was what looked like a high school marching band moving in formation. The Jumbotron began to flash colors, and then I saw my name.
ASHTON BAILEY.
What . . . what was happening right now? I stood up, ignoring everyone and everything around me. I stared at the giant screen.
I LOVE YOU.
PLEASE BE MY WIFE.
There was a giant animated arrow pointing down, and I looked at the field. There, on the fifty-yard line, was Evan, still in his football pads, waving at me.
Hope, relief, and love exploded inside me.
“What are you waiting for?” Rory asked. “Do you not recognize a grand gesture when you see one? Get down there!”
I started climbing over my family. I had to get to him. I ran down the stairs and heard people talking all around me about what was happening.
#Awestruck (A #Lovestruck Novel) Page 25