by K. K. Allen
“What the hell?” I cry softly. And then the bottom of my stomach drops out. “You said there’s a story about my dad?”
Chloe drops into the chair across from me and nods. “They’re saying you seduced Zach to get close to your father.”
“That’s not true!” I explode. I stand up. “You know that’s not true.”
She nods, frantically. “Of course, I know you would never do that. It’ll all get clea—”
A firm knock interrupts Chloe, and then the door to my office opens to reveal Sandra. “Chloe, leave Monica and I alone, please.”
Chloe gives me a sympathetic look before walking out of my office and shutting the door. Sandra’s face is nothing like it did the day she fired me—and then hired me again. This time, she looks exhausted, hurt, and confused. She sits across from me and shakes her head.
“Damn it, Monica. Is it true?”
My voice is shaky. “I-I haven’t even seen everything yet, but Chloe briefed me.” I swallow. “I didn’t use Zach to get to my father. The rest is true—I think. The sneaking. The relationship—if you can call it that.”
“And when did this start?”
I just stare back at her. Does she really need to know all the details? Sandra shakes her head as if she can read my mind. “Trust me, I don’t want to know everything. I just need to know how long this has been going on.”
I swallow. “After Heroes and Legends, we went out. Once. We kissed. But that was all until he came back in March. Even then I tried to fight it. But—”
She holds up her hand. “That’s enough. The story has gone viral whether it’s true or not, and BelleCurve’s name is all over this thing.”
My eyes narrow as everything falls into place. “We both know who’s behind this.” I point to the photo of Zach and me kissing. “Meredith has been after Zach for months. You can ask him. She had her minions following us at camp.”
“You don’t know that,” Sandra says, but she doesn’t sound very certain.
“I do,” I say angrily. “She confronted me—they all did—and said they knew about us. I told them to mind their own business. What we had was real, and we were tired of sneaking around.”
“Was?”
I nod. “It’s complicated now, and I really don’t want to get into it.”
“But your father is really Coach Reynolds?”
I nod again.
“Well that makes things even more complicated, doesn’t it? Look, Monica. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I need to talk to Zach and see where his head is at about all this. I can’t accuse them of pushing this story out without evidence, or at least without giving them a chance to answer some questions.
“I have to talk to them, and I need you to take some vacation days while I do it. Once this all settles down, we can talk.”
Panic captures me at the thought of losing everything I’ve worked for. “But Sandra—”
“Honey, this isn’t negotiable. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
And just like that, I’ve been kicked out of my own office.
As soon as I get home, I go online and evaluate the dumpster fire that is my life. There are about a dozen photos that were cleverly taken at a distance. There’s one of Zach and me holding hands in the woods and another of us kissing. They’re hardly condemning—they’re actually kind of sweet—but it’s the story that accompanies them that has me in tears.
SEDUCED BY THE COACH’S DAUGHTER
The headline is awful, but the story is worse.
Monica Reynolds-Stevens, long-lost daughter of Seattle Head Coach Liam Reynolds, has emerged at the center of an ugly story of lies, deceit, and revenge. After Coach Reynolds abandoned Monica’s family when she was twelve years old, she spent nine years plotting her way back into her father’s life. This week she finally got to him thanks to a fabricated relationship with Seattle Quarterback Zachary Ryan.
But how did Monica get so close to the star player’s heart so easily? The answer is even more twisted and diabolical than you can imagine.
When Monica moved to Washington from Rockwall, Texas, she sought employment at BelleCurve Creative in Bellevue, Washington, the company that manages Zachary Ryan’s publicity. It may have taken her three years, but she successfully wormed her way into Zachary Ryan’s gullible heart, causing mass destruction in her wake.
I can’t read anymore. It all hurts too much. This is what Sandra meant by BelleCurve being dragged into this. She was asking if I applied for the job to get closer to Zach. I heard about BelleCurve because of their work with the Seattle team, and I happened to like what the company offered. I also thought I might run into my father. My intentions were hardly scandalous. I’m afraid it will be hard to convince anyone else otherwise.
My eyes are swimming with tears. I think I’ve cried more in the past few days than I have in the past nine years. When my shaky hands reach for my phone, my stomach is in knots. I dial Zach’s number, but the phone rings twice before going to voicemail.
He hates me. He believes it all, and he hates me.
Monica: Please call me.
Hours later, after officially deleting all my social media accounts, I’m pacing my apartment, restless and tormented with anxiety.
Desperate to reach Zach, I check his calendar only to find that I’ve been removed from accessing any of it. He’s done with me. To him, I’m nothing more than a girl who used him, a calculated manipulator who wormed her way into his heart to get closer to her father.
And the worst part? I can’t call myself the victim because I’m the reason we’re all in this mess.
Today, I decided to revisit the football field. I haven’t been back since Zach and I came to brainstorm, but I think it’s an appropriate place to ponder recent events. After all, this is where our confessions began.
It’s been an emotional week. Even if my secrets hadn’t been put out there for public judgment, Zach was right. We could choose each other, but neither of us gets to decide our reality. My dad’s wife and daughters have been a part of Zach’s life for nearly a decade, and that doesn’t just go away. Fully letting Zach into my heart would mean accepting that my father is a part of Zach’s life … and I can’t do that. I’ve known that from the beginning.
When his Jeep pulls into the parking lot near the field, my heart feels like it might explode in my chest. I may have no clue what to say to him right now, but I know that I miss him.
He doesn’t park, though. He doesn’t even get out. Instead, his passenger door opens and out steps a man I thought I would never see again in person.
My dad hasn’t made any attempts to speak to me since the scrimmage. Well, technically, he hasn’t made any attempts in over ten years, but now isn’t the time for technicalities. He’s walking toward me. It’s been a week, and I’m finally started to accept the fact that my father and I may never have the happily ever after I’ve been searching for all these years.
Part of me is angry watching my father approach and Zach drive away. Like I’m being abandoned by one man while forced to deal with another. How dare he put me in this situation? How dare he leave without a word, without knowing if this is okay with me? How did he even know I was here?
My father walks toward me with the same long, confident strides I remember so clearly. His expression, laden with discomfort and curiosity, looks a lot like how I feel. I step out from my spot under the bleachers to greet him, feeling shaky and a little out of breath.
“Monica.” The familiar sound of his voice hits me hard, sending me full-speed into the past, reminding me of the good and the bad in one fell swoop. The tidal wave of pain only gains more momentum as it topples over me.
What do I call him? Dad? That just feels weird.
He stops a few feet from me and lets out a breath as if he can’t believe he’s standing in front of me. Neither can I.
“Monica.” This time his voice carries a decade’s worth of emotions. It’s en
ough to knock me to my knees, but I somehow manage to hold my ground. “It’s really you. You’re a woman now. I can’t seem to wrap my head around it.”
“That’s what happens, Dad.” My voice is angry but even. “People get older. I couldn’t stay fourteen forever. But maybe you remember twelve-year-old me better.”
He seems to accept my anger because he nods and lets out another breath. “This isn’t easy. I didn’t expend it to be.” He shakes his head, buying time before starting again. “Walk with me?”
I nod and follow him to the track. It isn’t until we’ve started our lap that he speaks again. “There’s a lot I’d like to explain, or you can ask me questions.” He swallows. “There are no rules here. I have nothing to hide from you.”
My eyes instantly fill with tears, and I have to stop walking. This isn’t a leisurely walk while catching up with an old friend. This is my dad and I finally speaking after nearly a decade of silence.
I turn to face him, forcing myself to search his eyes. As painful as it is for me, it looks to be harder for him. He starts to open his mouth to speak, but I won’t let this opportunity go. “Why now?” I demand. “Is it because of Zach? Did he make you come? Because if that’s why you’re here, I don’t want this.”
My dad shakes his head quickly. “No, no. He did have a few words for me last week, and he’s angry with me for good reason. But I asked to see you.”
Silence falls like a heavy sheet over us and he glances around as if taking in our surroundings for the very first time. “You come here a lot?” he asks, a hesitant smile forming on his lips. “It reminds me of the Brighton stadium.”
I just nod, temporarily unable to speak.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” His voice, though deep, is soft and velvety, just like I remember.
I’m about to nod again, but I don’t think I can hold back anymore. He’s here, and who knows when he’ll disappear again, so I might as well ask the only question I’ve ever had. The one that breaks my heart again every single time I ask it.
“Why did you leave us?”
His head falls forward slightly and the corners of his mouth turn down. “Nothing I can say will make this right.”
“You’re right. We were a family.” I wrap my arms around myself, unable to stop my own tears from forming. “I know you and mom had some problems, but to just take off like that…” I take a deep breath. “Weren’t we enough? How could you leave? How could you stay away? And then to see us on your front porch of your new home with your new family, and not try harder to stop us from leaving.” I shake my head, still finding the entire situation hard to believe. “You just stood there and watched as our hearts broke right in front of your eyes, and you did nothing.” The tears start to fall. “You were supposed to love us.”
“I loved you girls more than anything. I still do. There isn’t a day that’s gone by when I haven’t thought of you. I know that must be difficult to believe, but it’s true.”
I shake my head, refusing to believe his lies. You can’t spend every day for a decade thinking about someone and never reach out to them when you’re the one who left in the first place. I don’t even try to stop the shaking of my body or the tears running down my face.
“No!” I argue. “You disappeared. It was like we never existed to you. You could have picked up the phone. You didn’t have to abandon us and start a new family. You already had one.”
“I’m so sorry.” His grimace as he tries to hold back his emotions fills my chest with a heaviness I’m not sure how to deal with. “Baby girl.” His eyes redden as he takes a sharp breath. “You were too young at the time to hear this, but you’re an adult now. I’ll tell you everything if that’s what you want.”
I need to hear this, but I also need to sit. Nodding, I leave the track in quick strides, aiming for the bleachers. He follows, but I’m not sure if I want him to right away. Ironic—we haven’t shared the same space in so long, and now all I want is to get away.
He sits, leaving only a foot between us. For some reason this fuels my anger more. I turn, locking eyes with his, hoping he can feel my pain as I speak it. “Do you know what it’s like waking up every single day of your childhood, wondering if your daddy is thinkin’ about you, wondering where he could be, if he’s okay, if he loves you, if he hates you? Or maybe, just maybe, is today the day he’s coming back? Never in my wildest dreams did I think you went off and found yourself a new family until Maggie dragged me to Dallas that night.”
He buries his face in his hands and his shoulders shake. I let him cry since I have no soothing words to comfort him. At least he feels pain. It means he still has a heart and feels remorse.
“Your mom and I weren’t the best to one another,” he chokes out. “What I felt for your mother was out of this world for so many years. But I don’t know, maybe it was the game that got into my head. All that travel, that time away from home. It took a toll on us both. Your mother and I got married so young. I know that’s no excuse to cheat, but I was weak.” He looks over at me, assessing my reaction, but I give him nothing. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know where my mind was at, but just tell me to stop and I will. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
That’s laughable. I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them, bracing myself for whatever’s coming next. “You married the nurse,” I say, my tone blistering with an accusation. No need to beat around the bush. “After I fell through the bleachers that day, she was the one with me at the hospital when I woke up.”
Color fades from his face, his expression dumbfounded. “I can’t believe—” he shakes his head and swallows. “I’m so sorry.”
It’s not like I need him to confirm it. I was there. “Did you sleep with her then? Is that when it all started? Is it my fault you left? If I had never fallen—” My arms cross tightly around me and my forehead falls onto my knees.
“Shit,” he mutters, just a whisper, but I hear it. “You blame yourself? God, Monica, no.” He reaches for my hand but I pull it away sharply. Sighing, he shakes his head, but it’s a slow, painful movement that clamps down on my heart.
He looks at me again, face completely fallen with his own guilt. Now that he’s close I can see the rough lines in his face that age has planted there. I can see the heaviness in his lids where gravity has been unkind.
“Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s”—he swallows—“not my proudest moment.
“I don’t think it can get any worse.”
He sighs and turns his head away, ashamed. “I got injured a week after your accident and I was getting treated at the hospital. I bumped into Becky in the cafeteria and we became friends. I was attracted, sure … but I never intended for it to go any further.”
“But it did.” My words feel wobbly in my mouth. “You started a family with her, dad. An entire family. While Maggie and I were at home, waiting for you to come back. Did you even miss us?” My voice cracks.
“Yes, baby girl. Every damn day. I still do.”
Jesus. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and listen to him try to justify his actions. “I’m supposed to believe that?”
He lets out an exasperated breath. “It’s the truth. After my injury, everything changed. It was my darkest time—losing my career, stuck on bedrest, in physical therapy. Your mother and I were always fighting, and Becky and I—we fell into a friendship that turned the bad into good. I never planned to fall in love. After I cheated…” he pinches his eyes and shakes his head as if the words hurt. Somehow I believe they do. I can’t imagine it’s easy confessing his sins to the adult daughter he sacrificed for his affair.
“I felt guilty,” he says thickly, as if he’s pushing peanut butter off his tongue. “I knew I’d gone and done a horrible thing. So I tried harder with your mother. But I was the only one putting in the effort.” His jaw tightens. “And then Becky called to tell me she was pregnant. Your mom lost it, with good reason. Forb
id me to see Becky. Agreed to pay her child support as long as no one ever found out. But I couldn’t do it, baby. I couldn’t not see my child.”
The irony of this statement hits me hard.
“Becky called when she was in labor, and I went to see her and the baby. Your mother told me not to come home. But I did anyway. I got an apartment in town and came home every weekend. I never wanted to leave you girls. Never.”
My throat tightens, my heart wanting to believe him. But he did leave us.
“The situation brought out the worst in your mother. She became vindictive and cruel. Writing awful emails to Becky as if they were from me. Threatening to ruin every job prospect I had if I went near her and the baby. Eventually, she threatened to tell you girls I had started a new family. And I wanted to tell you. As hard as that conversation would have been, I wanted it to happen soon … but not like that. Not in a way that would serve as your mother’s revenge.”
“And during all that time your mom was keeping me away, I was falling deeply in love with someone else. Before I knew it, Clara was six months old and your mom was filing for a divorce and full custody.”
I scoff and shake my head. “And you didn’t even fight it.”
He turns to me, his eyes growing wide. “Oh no,” he says with an intense shake of his head. “I fought it for over a year. In the end, she called me an unfit father, an adulterer, and abusive. She told the courts I abandoned you kids even though she was the one who kicked me out. I was stripped of my parental rights. I had no legal right to see you girls at all. And then to top it all off, she took my last name from you. That just about killed me.”
My throat tightens at the kicking and screaming I did over that name change. It was like the final stone thrown before the death of Monica Reynolds.