Possession (Texas Titans #8)

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Possession (Texas Titans #8) Page 21

by Cheryl Douglas


  “Hey, I’d feel the same way if I were in your position and we were talking about Sabrina.”

  “Speaking of my sister, I hope you’ve been able to keep her from worrying too much about me?” Sabrina and his parents came out to visit him after his knee surgery, to assure themselves he was alright, but beyond that he’d asked them to respect his need for privacy while he worked his way through the required therapy and beyond.

  “You know your sister,” Dylan said, chuckling. “She makes up her own mind about things. She won’t believe you’re okay until she sees it for herself.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He leaned back, hooking his arm over the bench. “I am looking forward to getting back to work though. I’ve enjoyed the down time, for the first time in forever, but it’ll be nice to have a purpose again. I’m surprised Sabrina and our old man have managed to get through this without killing each other.”

  Dylan laughed. “Kiara’s really stepped up, so Thomas hasn’t been as involved as you might think.”

  “I hope that hasn’t mean she’s had to postpone her wedding? Blaise would kill me. I know how much he wants to marry that girl.”

  “No, the wedding’s still on track.” Dylan grinned. “I think she may have mentioned something about postponing once, but Blaise was having none of it. He said if she couldn’t find time to plan a wedding they’d just elope. She changed her tune real quick after that.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “The jet’s all gassed up and ready to go,” Dylan said. “You ready to come home with me?”

  Dalton looked around, taking in the place that had felt like home since he came to them lost and broken, looking for salvation. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  ***

  Sophie was heading outside to take a little coffee break when the sound of a knock on the front door stopped her in her tracks. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Shy usually walked right in and she didn’t get many salesmen visiting all the way out here.

  As she rushed to the front door, careful not to spill a drop of coffee, she nearly let the bright ceramic mug slip through her fingers at the sight of him. Dalton. She knew their paths would cross again someday, but she’d expected to have time to prepare, to rehearse what she wanted to say.

  “Hi,” she said, pushing the screen door open. “I had no idea you were back in town.”

  He seemed tentative as he opened his arms for a hug. “It’s good to see you. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by like this. I wanted to surprise you.”

  She laughed, wrapping one arm around him while holding the mug with the other. Her heart skipped a beat, just like it had every other time he’d held her. Apparently her body hadn’t received the memo it had been over with Dalton for a long time.

  “Of course I don’t mind. It’s great to see you.” She held up her mug. “Can I interest you in a cup? Or a beer, maybe? It is getting warm out there.”

  “I’m, uh, off alcohol, Soph. But a coffee would be great, thanks.”

  “You’re off alcohol?” She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Why’s that? You never had a problem with booze, at least not that I know of. Was I missing something?” Giving the fact he’d kept his drug addiction a secret, she supposed anything was possible.

  “No, but I came to realize some things about myself while I was in re-hab. I have an addictive personality, so it’s probably best not to tempt the devil. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I guess I see your point.” She led him to the re-modeled kitchen, taking pride in his shocked expression as he noted all the changes she’d made to the place since he last saw it. “You like?”

  “It’s incredible.” He grinned. “It’s exactly the way I pictured it.”

  “Yeah, me too.” She got a little twinge every time she thought about how wonderful it would have been to bring the old place back to life with him. “I really love it out here.”

  “Not too isolated for you?”

  “Not at all. I love the peace and quiet.” She poured coffee into a matching mug and prepared it just the way he liked, half a sugar with a drop of milk. “It’s been kind of therapeutic, actually.”

  “Yeah, I know a thing or two about that.” He inclined his head, thanking her for the coffee.

  As she passed it to him their fingers touched and she felt the electricity snake through her entire body. “How are you?” she narrowed her eyes as she gave him a quick once over. “I mean, you look wonderful.” She blushed when he grinned. “I meant you look well rested.”

  “I haven’t done much for the past eight months, so I guess I should look rested.”

  “How about your knees?” she asked, letting her eyes travel down his muscular, denim clad legs. “You said in your email that the surgery went well. Is the pain gone?”

  He shrugged before bringing the coffee to his lips. “Most football players, active and retired, have to deal with aches and pains, including arthritis. I’m no exception. But the truth is I feel better than I have in years.”

  She believed him. There was a calmness about him she hadn’t seen before, like he’d finally found peace. “I’m happy things are going so well for you.” She propped a hip against the counter as she cradled her mug before bringing it to her lips. She felt slightly awkward, questioning their friendly rapport and whether he’d come with the intention of renewing their friendship… or something more.

  “You look incredible.” His voice sounded husky as his eyes toured her body, putting her earlier questions to rest. “More beautiful than ever.”

  “Thank you.” She cleared her throat, wondering whether that was supposed to be an invitation. It certainly sounded like one, but she didn’t know how to respond. She still loved him, probably always would, but so much time had passed. She had no doubt he was a different man now.

  “Would you like to head outside?” she asked, gesturing toward the walk-out leading to a newly finished deck facing the lake. “I usually try to have my coffee break out there, weather permitting.”

  “That sounds great.” He smiled. “I’d love to catch up.”

  She led him outside, taking a seat beside him on the loveseat. She could have opted for one of two chairs but she didn’t want him to think she felt uneasy around him or was trying to keep a safe distance. “So, how does it feel being back home?”

  “I was ready.” He took a sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table next to him. Leaning forward, he gazed out at the lake a long time before he said, “I’ve travelled around the world, but this is and always will be home to me.”

  “I know what you mean. Moving back here after school ended was such a relief. I don’t know what made me think I could make a go of it in L.A.”

  “Speaking of which, how’s your partnership with Jeremy going?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” They’d kept their emails infrequent and brief, so she hadn’t filled him in on the details of her life. “I definitely chose the right partner. Where I’m weak, Jeremy’s strong. I feel really good about our future.”

  A muscle in Dalton’s jaw jumped as he reached for his coffee. “Does that mean y’all are-”

  She touched his knee to silence his question. “We’re not a couple.”

  He nodded. “Good to know. Are you seein’ anyone else?”

  She knew this question would come, but she didn’t expect it to be in the first few minutes. “I’ve been out on a few dates, but I’m not seeing anyone regularly.”

  “Just haven’t met the right person?” he asked, staring straight ahead.

  This was the moment of truth. She could continue dancing around the truth or admit she’d never stopped loving him. “I met the right person a long time ago.”

  ***

  Hearing her say those words gave Dalton hope, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He hadn’t been Sophie’s only boyfriend. “Is that so?”

  After a shallow sigh, she said, “Don’t pretend to be surprised. I told you how I felt before you left.”


  He’d replayed that conversation in his head a thousand times and each time he’d wished for a different outcome. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn. I just didn’t know what I was in for when I went to re-hab. Honestly, I didn’t know if I had the strength to kick this thing and I loved you too much to drag you down with me.”

  Her hand rested on his back when she said, “I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big girl. I could’ve handled whatever happened. I’m glad you’re doing better, but I’m not going to lie, I’m hurt that you felt you had to go through it alone. We were a couple. You should have been able to talk to me about anything.”

  “You’re right.” He reached for her hand, clasping it, before pressing his lips to her palm. “But I wasn’t great at expressing my feelings. Therapy helped me with that.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He’d had plenty of time to rehearse what he wanted to say to her, but now that they were face-to-face, those poetic words fled his mind. He decided to start at the beginning, to help her understand how he’d developed the addiction in the first place.

  “Football was the only thing that mattered to me growing up. I had no Plan B.”

  “I understand what that’s like,” she said, softly. “The only way to succeed is to take the option to fail off the table.”

  “Right.” He wasn’t surprised to hear her echo his thoughts. It always felt like she knew his deepest, darkest secrets without being told. Except for the one secret that ultimately tore them apart.

  “So I made football my life’s work. I worked through fatigue, illness, and pain. I didn’t care if my body protested, I kept going because that’s what I believed I had to do. There was always a younger guy ready and willing to take my place, especially towards the end.”

  “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been.”

  “I was going through the same thing every other guy in my position was,” he said, shrugging it off. “The problem wasn’t unique to me.”

  “Don’t minimize it,” Sophie warned. “Just because you were all in the same boat doesn’t make it any better.”

  “I guess not.” Part of Dalton’s work in therapy had been about recognizing the mistakes he’d made and how he could have unearthed better options. Not all players left their professional careers behind while facing addictions. Only some. Those who didn’t realize they had a choice.

  “I could have handled things differently. I realize that now. But at the time my only thought was staying ahead of the pain so I could play another day. I didn’t want to let my team or my coaches down. Hell, I didn’t want to let myself down.”

  Her hand coasted over his head, down his shoulder. “I understand, sweetheart.”

  Dalton appreciated her willingness to let him off the hook, but he knew forgiveness didn’t come easily or without a lot of pain. “I didn’t want to be remembered that way.” He shook his head. “All my life my father told me the only thing a man leaves this world with is his reputation. That stuck with me. I wanted to be remembered as someone who’d contributed something of value to the game. I was afraid if people found out about my addiction they’d forever associate me with that instead of the game I’d loved.”

  “How do you feel now?”

  “I think I’ve worked through that.” It had taken countless sleepless nights and a few tears, but he wasn’t afraid of owning the truth anymore. “No one is perfect. My fans, my former teammates, team management…” He sighed. “They’re human. They’ve all made their fair share of mistakes, I’m sure.”

  “You’re right. They won’t judge you just because you slipped up. They’ll admire you for finding the courage to be honest about it.”

  “I think so too.” He wasn’t naïve enough to believe there wouldn’t be a media storm when he went public, but he hoped once that died down, people, especially the players he hoped to reach, would hear his message of hope. “Dylan helped me to realize I’m in the unique position of being able to help other players, so they don’t have to go through what I just went through.” He shrugged. “I think I’d like to set up some kind of mentoring program.”

  Sophie smiled. “Go on.”

  “I think these support groups and twelve-step programs are great, but only a professional athlete can understand what another athlete is going through. There are pressures, problems, unique issues that most people couldn’t understand.” He winced when he realized how patronizing that sounded. “I just meant that-”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “I thought if we acknowledged the problem collectively and developed an internal support group where athletes who had been through it could mentor young kids who were feeling confused and may easily be led down the wrong path… I don’t know, maybe we could head this off at the pass, you know?”

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  He appreciated her support, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince others in his position to come clean about their addiction just because he’d decided it was the right thing for him to do. “Thanks. I know I’ve got a long road ahead of me, but I really want to reach these kids if I can.”

  “I think it’s wonderful that you’ve decided to turn your personal nightmare into a positive learning experience for other men.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek tenderly. “I’m really proud of you.”

  He closed his eyes, relishing those simple words. It had been a long time since he’d done some he believed warranted admiration without it being shrouded in a cloud of deceit. “Thank you.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. They were both silent, their hearts beating in unison, as though they were content to soak in the moment of harmony after months of feeling so disconnected from one another.

  “It won’t be easy,” he said, referring to his idea for the mentoring program. “It’ll be a lot of hard work. I’m sure I’ll have to have support people and talk to each and every one of the guys myself, to tell them my story and convince them this is a good idea.”

  “I have no doubt you’ll make this happen.” She wrapped her hands around his face, staring into his eyes as she whispered, “I believe in you, Dalton. Whatever you set your mind to, you succeed. It’s always been that way.”

  Seeing himself through her eyes made him feel stronger than he’d felt in years. For so long he’d felt like a broken man, but she made him believe he’d finally shed the turmoil and was on the verge of being re-born. “I need you by my side, Soph.”

  He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, half-expecting her to push him away, to tell him she could be there as his friend, but nothing more. When she didn’t stop kissing him, he felt his heart swell, like he was finally getting his life back, only better than it had ever been before.

  “I’ll always be here for you,” she whispered, running her hand over the scruff on his jaw. “Always.”

  “As my…?” Lover? Wife? Friend? He needed her to spell it out for him, to define how she saw their relationship moving forward.

  “That depends on you,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I feel like I’m at a really good place in my life right now, Dalton. I’m ready for a relationship, but you’re going through a transition. Are you sure you can handle something serious right now?”

  Most programs suggested participants avoid new relationships for a period, but since his relationship with Sophie was being resurrected, he didn’t feel the same rules applied. Besides, he’d talked to his therapist about what might happen between him and Sophie when he got out, providing she was still open to the possibility of pursuing a relationship with him.

  “We’ve done casual,” he said, smirking. “And I spent every moment of our time together wanting something more. I’m already in love with you. I couldn’t change that even if I wanted to.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  He was relieved to hear that, but he could tell she was still guarded. He couldn’t blame her after the way things had ended. “I’m not the same man I was when I left.”

&n
bsp; “I know that.” She inched back on the loveseat, setting her leg between them as she shifted to face him. “I can see the changes in you.”

  “I have changed.” He thought of the countless hours in therapy, the connections he’d made and revelations that led him to this point. “I’m finally learning to like myself.” He threaded his hand through hers, needing the contact to remind himself that they were going to survive this. “And not because of my past accomplishments or my God-given talent. I’m learning to respect myself because I’m not taking the path of least resistance anymore. Even when I’m scared. I’m learning how to face my fears and move through them.”

  “I think that’s amazing.” She squeezed his hand, a smile splitting her pretty face. “Seriously.”

  “I was always afraid of seeming weak.” In a nutshell, that was the fear that had set the course for all the mistakes he’d made. “But now I understand that everyone has moments of weakness. That’s what makes us human.”

  “You’re right,” she whispered. “I felt so weak after you left. I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. I was torn between being angry with you for pushing me away and wanting you back so much I could barely breathe when I thought about you.”

  It had taken him a long time and a lot of therapy before he could acknowledge the pain he’d caused her, but now he knew it was important for them to discuss it before they considered moving on. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her hand as their eyes locked. “I know it doesn’t begin to make up for the better part of the last year, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  “I know you’re sorry and I decided a long time ago that I was going to forgive you. I had to.” She smiled. “I was tired of vacillating between love and hate. I finally decided that I loved you so much more than I could ever hate you, so it was a no-brainer really.”

  He grinned, the relief of being forgiven eliminating the remaining walls circling his heart. “I’m going to leave it to you, where we go, how fast we go. That’s all up to you.” His hand curled around her cheek. “It’s enough for me to know that you still love me. That you’re willing to give us another chance.”

 

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