Tears started to appear in her eyes. “But why? Tell me! I’m almost an adult, too. It’s not like I’m two. I’m eight years old! Do you know what that means?”
I smiled sadly. When I was her age I thought that the world was mine as well. “Mia…”
Tears rolled down her eyes. She was greatly upset.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I said and hugged her tightly, fondling her long hair. “He did a bad thing, that’s all. He was good to you, yeah. But he did a very bad thing with Danielle, you see.”
Mia broke the hug and looked directly at me with eyes the same color as my own. “It’s because of the thing with Danielle? Because of Danielle, right?” A smile appeared on her lips and she wiped away her tears.
I was bewildered. How did she know about it? What did she know? I supposed that eight years really did mean something. I voiced my thoughts. “Do you know something?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s not Sean’s fault.”
“Then whose is it?” I asked, stubbornly holding onto my opinions and what my eyes had seen.
“Well, Danielle was acting strange all around him. I noticed that since the moment he came in. Sean only wanted her to stop. That’s it.”
I stared into nothingness. Was this true? Could it be possible? But… I saw him. Danielle had been undressing herself. His hands had been all over her. Had he been stopping her from doing that?
No.
The Sean I knew would never do that. On the contrary, he would help her get naked.
Yea, the problem was that I still had that picture of him in my mind. I didn’t even for a second think that he had indeed changed. That finding out that he was possibly a father changed him. Dang! What did I do? Was I acting on my instincts now or just turning my back to the facts to make my life easier? I didn’t know. Everything was so complex. My mind was in overdrive and a strong headache was starting to form in the back of my head.
I had been so harsh towards him. As if he had been just an average guy I had picked up at a bar. Of course that he wouldn’t have cheated on me with a cheap woman like Danielle. He was so much more than that. He was better than that.
I started to rewind what had happened. After I had come in, I had been so overwhelmed by the situation that I hadn’t even heard his story. He had pleaded with me to do so. He had begged me to listen to him. He had told me plainly that it hadn’t been like it had seemed. What a bitch I turned out to be. I chased him away. Silly me!
And I knew. Maybe it was just my love for him speaking with a loud and clear voice inside me or the voice of reason, but there was only one thing left for me to do. I had to see him. I had to talk to him. I had to be with him. Because he really loved me and Mia. He had changed. He was a new man. He had become a new man for me and that almost brought me to tears.
I stood up abruptly and called Sean. He wasn’t picking up. His cell was dead.
“Shoot,” I whispered under my breath. He would be angry at me. He had every right to.
Then it dawned on me.
“He has a game in a couple of hours!” I exclaimed. He was surely preparing and I was well aware of their tough preparations which also included no phones.
“What are we going to do?” Mia asked me, all worried.
“Grab your giant stuffed teddy and come with me! We’re going to watch the big man play,” I said and smiled while Mia ran laughing. Our happy voices filled the walls of our apartment. I could feel excitement buzzing all through me even in the tips of my fingers.
Sean
It was D day. And in my vocab that meant game day.
On my way to the stadium all I could think about were tactics and strategies for the game. I was the captain, for God’s sake. And it was expected of me to come up with mind-blowing solutions to impossible problems. Yeah, that was everything there was to my job description.
A notepad was lying in the seat next to me on which I occasionally scribbled an idea or two. I had even managed to draw the stadium and the two teams with arrows containing descriptions and possible moves. You guessed it. Being a successful and popular football player wasn’t the easiest job in the world. Otherwise everyone would do it, right?
Anyway, I parked absentmindedly and got out of the car. I didn’t even remember how I had gotten there. Before my eyes were the guys from the team and possible scenarios. Nothing else existed.
Among those faces, I saw two females. They were out of the picture, but they were there in my mind. Kayla and Mia. My personal life was a wreck. I felt a pang of pain in my heart. They wouldn’t be here no matter how much I wanted them to. Life sucked. And people who said that it didn’t, hadn’t been through heartbreak and pain.
“Sean! Sean Coleman!” Several voices pulled me back from my thoughts. I realized that I was still standing in the parking lot. I turned to see a group of fans, dressed in the jerseys of my team and proudly wearing its colors on their faces.
“Hey, guys! How are you?”
“Excited,” they all said in the same voice.
The first one stepped out. “We believe in you, Sean. We’re so lucky and very happy that you play for this team.”
The others started chanting. “Sean! Seven! Sean! Seven!” Seven was the number on my jersey.
“Thank you, guys,” I replied. “I appreciate it.”
“A picture?” One of the girls said.
“Of course. I won’t go without one.” They all laughed and we all posed for the best selfie in the history of the league. They were all so ecstatic; their eyes gleamed and shone while their lips were constantly curved into the widest of smiles. “Thanks, guys! And make sure that you’re the loudest on the stands, okay?”
“Yeah!” they all screamed. “Sean! Seven! Sean! Seven!”
I waved to them and went inside. Their voices were still audible and rang in my ears. I smiled.
Frankly, I missed my team. Not as much as I missed Kayla and Mia now, though. Those two kinds of longing couldn’t be compared.
I knocked on the door of the room where we made all the strategies. I could hear all of their low manly voices conversing loudly. I chuckled. They weren’t expecting me; I was sure of it.
I opened the door. At once, all of them stood up and approached me for a hug and a pat.
“Oh, man. So glad you came back,” said one of my mates.
“Since you came, we can relax. We’re in safe hands,” another said and we all laughed.
“Okay, boys. We have a lot of catching up to do. But first let’s focus on winning the game.”
“Your wish, our command,” my best pal Henry said and bowed.
I hit him playfully. “Don’t be silly, old sport.” There was a booming laughter again. It was our inside joke. Calling ourselves old sport thanks to Fitzgerald’s famous novel.
Once the atmosphere subsided and the level of the euphoria decreased, I approached the white board with the field drawn on it. I took a deep breath.
“I know that I’ve been absent for some time. And this is a very important game for all of us. We can’t afford to lose it. Those guys out there… They’ll try to sabotage us and outrun us and beat us. We don’t want that, right? Never give up. I, as your captain, will make sure that we all stay on the field and leave our hearts there!”
“Yeah!” they all shouted.
“Now let’s move to the tactics. Paulson…” And so I began presenting them all the plans I had figured out these past few days. I tried to give it my all, to fully concentrate on the game without anything from my personal life coming into focus. That was hard.
I always wanted to keep things democratic. So, each of my buddies took turns and suggested their own paths to the problem or their own insight which proved immensely helpful. Piece after piece we all outlined the general strategy. And that meant shut down and not defense.
Halfway into the discussion, our coach came in. He came to me and whispered that he was glad to see me and that it was good that we already started working.
“Do you want to
step in?” I asked him.
“No. I want to leave everything in your hands. The hands of the team are the ones that would give us the victory, right?” he said and patted my back. I smiled to him.
The hour for preparation was coming to an end. We had to go to the locker room to change and wait for the game to begin. And then it would be show time.
When all of the team had transferred itself to the locker room, I slipped out and headed for the announcer’s booth. I had to finish something.
I said hi to the man there. He was trying out the equipment with headphones around his neck.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Sure, yeah. Go on!”
“At the start of the last quarter, I’d like to dedicate it to Mia. My bright and shining light. Can you do that? Announce it that way?”
“No problem. Anything for you, Sean,” he said and smiled. “Just a second so that I can write that down.”
I waited.
“Is she a special girl or something?” he asked me, looking up to see my expression.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks again, pal. Owe you one.”
Running I went into the locker room to change.
A whistle.
And the game began.
The fans were roaring as loud as they could, while we stared into each other’s eyes. Now came the real deal. Immediately we began with the pushing to get to the ball.
You could enjoy the game more from the stands than playing on the field. In my mind I always associated it with crowds and chaos and too many details to concentrate on.
Oh, how brutal it was.
A few minutes after the whistle sounded I found myself holding the ball and ran. As fast as my feet could carry me, I ran. Then I felt hands all around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Henry. He was free. With my free hand, I made a quick pass.
Henry accepted it and continued on the road to the touchdown. He scored the first points. We all cheered.
Unfortunately, it didn’t stay that way. After all, it seemed that we had underestimated our rivals. They were incredibly fast and worked great as a team. It was very evident that they practiced a lot. Bastards. Because of my absences, we weren’t as coordinated. But we wouldn’t make their path to victory easy.
No. Who was I fooling? We were amazing. The next moment all I could see was Paulson stealing the ball and scoring for us.
The crowd cheered; their voices mixing with the one from the announcer’s booth. The commentator was sharp and witty as usual.
“… And there he is, Sean Coleman, number seven looking for yet another score. This year’s sexiest man alive!” The girls screamed at that part. I laughed partly because of his words and partly because I scored. Woohoo! So far so good.
Not so good. The fact that the score was tied sooner than I thought it would be. These guys were keeping up, raising their game to meet ours. It was going to be one tough game. The drops of sweat, drenching my face told me that.
With the same vigor as in the beginning we continued to fight on. I passed the ball and was pushed to the ground. I took a deep breath, catching a glimpse of the blue sky. It was eerily peaceful and so big.
I was on my feet again and hurried to the other team’s players down. They’re messing with the wrong kind of guys!
The first quarter was over and the others passed in a flash. I still felt like we were ten minutes into the game when a voice announced the fourth quarter. Whoa! What the hell! We were leading by a point or two. That was bad. Very bad indeed. We needed something. A push. A weapon against those motherfuckers.
My thighs and calves were killing me. I hadn’t run like this in forever. I hoped that it would be worth it in the end.
At that moment all I could think of, were my two beautiful angels Kayla and Mia. I had to win for them. I had to do it. There was no other option. Those two girls were my life now. The purpose of my living. No wonder I found motivation in them.
“Before we begin with the last quarter, I want to say that Sean Coleman wants to dedicate this game to his bright and shining light—Mia,” the announcer spoke in a serious tone. My lips curved into a smile. There was my baby girl.
With a whistle we began again, each team giving its all. I hadn’t been this tired in a long time. Wasted. My socks were all green from the grass and so was the better part of my jersey.
“What’s the plan?” Michael asked me.
“Leave your heart on the field. Don’t let them win,” I told him and winked.
The ball was in the hands of the opposing team. I forced myself to think of Kayla and Mia’s faces and I pushed him as hard as I could. Henry grabbed it instantly heading for the end of the field. I went after him in case he needed to pass.
I found myself sprawled on the ground, knocked down by a huge, stout man. Damn it. Quickly on my feet and I was off again. This last quarter was the dirtiest and most brutal one I had ever played in my whole life perhaps. It was as if we were fighting for the game of the century. The hits were merciless; the tactics were impossible to predict. And the score was almost a draw. Fuck!
My eyes caught my coach who was unbelievably pale. It was like all the color had drained from his face. His chin was in his hand. He is an incredible man. I read desperation on the features of his face.
Then, I saw George about to be tackled. I screamed his name from the top of my lungs.
He knew what was going on immediately and threw the ball in the air. That darn pigskin that meant life to me. Everything was in slow motion. Just like in the movies. Or so it appeared to me.
I saw Jameson from the other team lunge forward to grab it. Not so fast, bitch. I grabbed it now. And ran. The pain didn’t exist anymore as my body was drunk on adrenaline and the sheer willingness to win the game.
The clock was going to sound the end. I had absolutely no time for one last score. There wasn’t any chance I could do that. Not theoretically. Not practical. It couldn’t be done. So what was I doing? I couldn’t believe my strength.
The fans held their breaths. Half of the players were on the ground, knowing that it was done. But that didn’t matter to me.
I wasn’t giving up. Even if I scored after the whistle blew, I would continue running.
My feet were no longer touching the ground. I felt like that comic book character who ran fast and even went back in time.
With all my muscles aching, I held the ball tightly in my hands like a holy grail. The target was near.
And touchdown.
The crowd was on their feet. My teammates were yelling, hugging each other. Some were crying.
I unfastened my helmet and threw it on the ground. I put my hands on my knees, inhaling and exhaling as huge drops of sweat fell onto the grass.
We won! You won, Sean! All of it because of Mia and Kayla.
“There he is. The fearsome number seven. The one and only Sean Coleman scores for the win!” The announcer spoke. That made the crowd go into a frenzy. “Let’s have a shout out to him. Make some noise people!”
Now I turned to look at the audience and waved. They were all chanting. “Go Sean! Seven Sean! Go Sean! Go Seven!”
Kayla
I was driving like a madwoman and if a cop stopped me I was surely going to end up in jail. Mia was next to me, with her seatbelt on and clutching the giant teddy in her hands. The gift that Sean had given her that night when they had first met.
“Are we going to make it?” She asked me in a tiny voice, looking at the clock.
“Yes, we are, baby. I’m sure we are.” No. I wasn’t sure we were going to make it to the game at all. It was already getting late. But I wasn’t going to tell that to my own daughter. What kind of a mother would I be!
Finding a free spot in the parking lot proved to be a real pain in the ass. I swore and cursed under my breath. Eventually I turned on both blinkers and got out of the car. Mia and I ran across the lot to the entrance. The whole arena was ablaze with vertical lights going into the sky.
I heard loud voices cheering and booing. It filled my heart with joy and excitement.
My Sean was playing down there. For his team and for us. I knew it.
“We won’t make it. It’s ending,” Mia cried from next to me.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s not over yet,” I told her reassuringly and we sped forward entering the stadium. The voices were louder than ever, ringing in my ears. The sound was deafening.
“Stay close to me,” I told Mia. She nodded.
We rushed up the stairs as quickly as we could.
And then the announcer spoke, “Before we begin with the last play, Sean Coleman wants to dedicate this last playoff to his bright and shining light—Mia.”
We froze in our tracks. I turned to look at Mia with my eyes popped open in surprise. Mia’s jaw was hanging open.
“Was that about me?” she shouted so that I could hear her over the noise.
“Yes, baby. That’s Sean,” I said and hugged her. “I love you, baby.”
“I love the both of you, mommy,” she whispered into my ear. My heart melted and I hugged her even tighter.
“Come on now. We don’t want to miss this last quarter, right? It’s for you.” I hurried, taking Mia by the hand. There was no one on the stairs. All of the fans were probably too excited to go to the toilet or grab something to eat. They were all waiting for that last whistle and the final score. Mia and I climbed up the stairs.
And we arrived. The stadium was huge. Every chair was occupied.
I expected Mia to be a little bit afraid, because this was her first live football game. But she wasn’t. She was as excited as I was. Probably more so. Her small curious eyes scanned the field.
“There, mom! There’s Sean!” she yelled at the top of her voice.
I followed her index finger and saw my man in a green jersey with a big yellow seven on the back. Coleman, was written above the number.
“Yes, honey. Watch how great he plays,” I replied.
Luckily, we found two free spots in the last row and we sat.
The numbers on the clock indicated that it was going to end soon. The commentator said so himself. I was getting nervous and started playing with my nails. I always did that out of anxiety.
One Night With The Tycoon (Billionaire's One Night #1) Page 23