The Ex Effect

by Karla Sorensen

  The tension seeped from my muscles, one scolding word after another until the hands on my shoulders, arms, and chest loosened their grip.

  "You're right." I lifted my hands and let them drop. "We agree on that. I don't know you, and you don't know me. So why are you trying to tell me what to do?"

  He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "You don't get extra points for how long you hold on to the feeling of being wronged. If you're not man enough to set aside your anger and just listen—to her, or to me—then you really don't deserve her."

  "Geez, who's the chick?" someone whispered, and I closed my eyes against a snappish response that wouldn't help anything.

  I swallowed roughly, glancing around at the faces of my teammates. Fights happened in the locker room. On the field. It was impossible to have a group of guys this size, with this much energy and drive and ask them to play with barely leashed violence, and not have that seep into the non-game spaces. But it was the first time for me that I'd ever laid hands on someone I shared a jersey with.

  Just like that, all the fight left me, and I was tired. Exhausted down to the bones holding up my body.

  You don't get extra points for how long you hold on to the feeling of being wronged.

  I couldn't answer Logan. Not right then, with the whole team staring at us. I exhaled slowly.

  "Sorry for the commotion, everyone," I said.

  Everyone but Christiansen dispersed, slowly making their way back to the machines, and a low hum of conversation filled the room again. He lowered his eyebrows in question, and I nodded.

  I gave Logan a long look. "This won't happen again, I swear. I'm not the guy who starts fights."

  He nodded slowly. "I know you're not."

  "But," I told him, "even if you're right, don't tell me how to deal with my relationship, okay? Not after seeing you with her like that. Because you might be saying every single thing I need to hear to make this okay between her and me, but I won't hear a word of it. Not knowing what your intention was when you showed up on the ferry."

  "Fair enough," he conceded.

  I left the room feeling like I weighed twice as much as I had when I walked into it. This time, I was weighed down by his words, by hers, and by the heavy emotional expectation of needing to slug through everything that had happened.

  It felt like someone was asking me to dig up a body, six feet under the wet earth, with my bare hands. But before I could make a single dent, I had to get my head right and know what I was willing to let go of and what I wasn't.

  I just didn't know what those things were yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ava

  Trying to stay focused at the office proved fruitless, so I gave up after a couple of hours. Anytime I turned a corner, I wondered if Matthew's face would greet me. If I'd see that remote, angry, unfamiliar expression on his face again.

  Packing up my files, trudging home in the ridiculously appropriate rain, and working from my bed, wearing one of the sweatshirts he’d left at my place seemed like the best course of action.

  Not for my sanity, of course, because between emails and phone calls, I'd stop to pull the fabric up to my nose and take a deep, masochistic breath.

  Then I'd be reminded all over again of the train wreck of a weekend.

  The one person I never wanted to hurt, I'd hurt beyond anything I could have imagined.

  Control the narrative, I thought grimly. Yeah, that had worked out reeeeeally well for me. The only outcome I'd successfully influenced was if I'd been aiming in the direction of How to Make Ava look like a Thoughtless Bitch. In that, I'd been a smashing success.

  Ashley had tried to call me twice. Twice she'd been sent to voicemail. My mom, predictably, maintained radio silence. If their travel plans had stayed the same, they were all still out on Orcas, enjoying a few rare days off together.

  And there I was, burrowed under the covers while the sun set in the west, wearing a dark gray Stanford sweatshirt that fell to my knees, trying to wrack my brains over how I was supposed to prove to Matthew that I did love him while giving him the space he clearly needed.

  I got out of bed to heat some soup in my USC mug, then crawled back in bed to eat it. As I was lifting a steaming spoonful to my mouth, my phone rang on the nightstand.

  When I saw Matthew's name, I almost dropped the soup into my lap.

  "Hi," I said on an exhale as soon as I picked up the call. With shaky hands, I set the soup on my nightstand.

  "Hey," he answered, then cleared his throat.

  The sound of his voice had me sinking down into bed and curling to my side. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend he was there with me.

  "I stopped by your office when I was done with camp."

  That had me sitting back up. "You did?"

  Well, shit.

  "Yeah." He paused for a second, and I physically bit down on my tongue to allow him that second to think. "I just needed to say a couple of things before work tomorrow, just in case we run into each other."

  And there I went back down into bed. I didn't like that phrasing. It was my job to read into how things were phrased, and that was not the kind of subtext I was looking for.

  "Okay," I said quietly.

  "I know you're sorry for what happened. I don't need you to apologize again because I'm not blameless in this. I shouldn't have shown up in your hotel room like that," he started. "In my head, it was romantic, and I don't know, proved something big, something important about how I was feeling. So I'm sorry for that."

  I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. I wanted to argue, I wanted to say that if Logan hadn't been with me, I probably would've thought it was romantic too. Ill-advised, maybe, considering I could've walked into my room with Ashley in tow, but I would've thought it was romantic.

  "There's nothing to apologize for, Matthew," I told him. "But I'll accept it because it means a lot that you're even willing to talk to me right now."

  "That's the thing, Ava. I've wanted to talk about this stuff with you. About your past, about mine, about the shit we're going to face because we're together. I need that from you. I need to know that you're not going to shy away from the hard stuff that comes with this relationship."

  "I won't, Matthew." I leaned forward and pinched my eyes shut. "I wish I could see you right now."

  He sighed. "I think ... I think maybe it's good that we're having this conversation over the phone. I hate seeing you upset, you know that. It killed me not to hold you in that hotel, but I can't sacrifice what I need out of a relationship all the time because my instinct is to always make things easier on you. And that's what I've done."

  They said hindsight was twenty/twenty. It was a frustratingly accurate statement as I laid in my bed and listened to the things he was telling me. I could see it clear as a freaking bell.

  "Tell me what you need, Matthew," I pleaded quietly. "I know I can sit here until I'm blue in the face and say that you can trust me, that I'll never, ever do something like that again, but I know that's not enough. And you deserve more than lip service."

  He was quiet on the other end of the phone. I tried to imagine where he was, what his face looked like, and how he might be sitting. A million miles could've stretched between us for as how far away I felt from him.

  "I'm not asking you to destroy your family for me, Ava, you know that. I need to know that you’ll trust me not to be like them and trust that you don’t need to protect yourself from me the way you had to protect yourself from them. I need to know that you'll stand up for me the way I'll always stand up for you. I'll do every Christmas, every strained, uncomfortable holiday as long as I know you're right there with me, not lessening what we have to make it easier for everyone else. Yeah, my female fans might freak out for a minute, but I don't care. Let them. They're not part of this; you and I are the only ones who are. And I need you to trust in that as much as I do."

  My nostrils burned as I listened quietly. "You need me to be okay with the ugly realities a
nd not try to make them pretty falsehoods."

  "Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, that's what I need."

  "Okay," I answered quietly. "I hear you."

  “I know, in my head and in my heart, that you’d never do to me what your sister did. What Lexi and I did to each other. I know that, Ava. But until this morning at work, I don’t think I realized how much I still carry from those relationships.”

  I thought of what I’d carried around, what I’d unknowingly brought from my relationship with my family into my relationship with Matthew. Unintentional distance caused by invisible wounds. We all carried that around, to a certain extent, no matter where the damage came from. “Sometimes, I think knowing that is half the battle in overcoming it.”

  “I hope so.” He sighed into the silence. "I miss you, Slim."

  I curled on my side and brought the neck of the sweatshirt to my nose so I could inhale deeply. "I miss you too."

  We wished each other a good night, and he disconnected the call as I kept my phone pressed to my ear. Before he hung up, he didn't tell me he loved me, and I didn't say it to him either. This wasn't the time for it. When I finally had a chance to say it, I'd be looking him straight in the eye.

  As I finished my cold soup, fed Frankie, then washed my face and brushed my teeth, my brain spun what he'd said over and over. When I crawled back between the covers of my bed, I carefully picked up my phone and took a deep breath before I made a single phone call. It rang a few times, then the voicemail clicked on, which I was grateful for.

  "It's me," I said. "I ... I need you do something tomorrow if you have time, and you’re willing to hear me out. It's important. Otherwise, I wouldn't ask."

  After I finished my message, I took a deep breath and set my phone down. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe it wouldn't. Either way, I had to try.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ava

  "You said the conference room across from your office?" the defensive coordinator barked into my desk phone. In the background, I could hear the shouts of the players and the hum of activity that I loved so much. So badly, I wanted to be out there watching, especially since it was the last day of camp before our first preseason game.

  But more important things were afoot.

  "Yeah, that’s the one."

  "Everyone is signing autographs now. We're done running plays." He cleared his throat. "But I don't have to actually run a meeting, right?"

  I rolled my eyes a little. "No, Gary, I will be taking care of that. Just keep that between us, okay?"

  "You got it, Baker. I'll send 'im your way. Mums the word."

  After I hung up, I clicked my nails on my desk and watched the long arm of the clock tick closer to the S.D.G.T.

  Scheduled Dramatic Gesture Time.

  The two biggest moving parts included my invited guests, if they decided to take me up on my offer, and our defensive coordinator telling Matthew he was needed for a brief meeting in the conference room across the hall from my office.

  Sorry, I wasn’t putting him, my sister, my mom, my dad, and myself into my office, which only had one escape route. We needed space. Everyone would need sufficient oxygen to breathe for this.

  My phone rang again, and I picked it up quickly, saying a little prayer that it was the front desk.

  "This is Ava," I said into the receiver.

  "Ava, you have three guests here to see you. Shall I send them back?"

  I closed my eyes, and my shoulders slumped in relief. "Yeah, you can. Thanks for calling, Miriam."

  Miriam and I had had a wee little chat about sending guests back without notice. There was massive relief in knowing Ashley wouldn't be popping her head around the corner at any given moment.

  I stood from my desk and smoothed my hands down the front of my wide-leg black pants. There would be no notecards or PowerPoint for this little meeting I'd scheduled, but I'd be damned if it wasn't held on my turf.

  My dad entered my office first, giving it a quick glance, then giving me a small smile. I hugged him briefly, staring over his shoulder as my mom's pinched face came into view. Ashley's facial expression didn't give anything away, and I had zero clue how much my mom had told her when I'd bolted from Orcas.

  "What's this about, Ava?" my mom started, gripping her purse strap like it might need to be used as a weapon.

  My dad pointed at the two seats opposite my desk. Mom took one and Ashley hesitated visibly before taking the second one. I sat down in my chair and folded my hands in my lap.

  "I want to start by apologizing to you, Ashley. I'm sure you're not happy with me for leaving your party the way I did."

  She raised an eyebrow slowly. "It forced Mom and me to lie to the rest of our guests when they inquired about you, so no, I'm not terribly thrilled. But I will accept your apology because you didn't make me demand it," she said magnanimously.

  I turned my attention to my mother. "How much did you explain to her?"

  "I told her that your ... boyfriend had to return to Seattle early, and you went to check on him."

  Not a lie, but not exactly the truth either. Maybe I got my PR skills from my maternal side.

  "That's true," I said, glancing at the clock.

  “What I would like to know is why I had to make my husband wait at the hotel for this,” Ashley said before I could get another word out.

  A fair question, and thankfully one that I’d expected. “Is it enough—just for right now—to tell you that my reason will make sense once this is all done?”

  She rolled her eyes a little but nodded. My mom looked one second away from apoplectic shock.

  "Actually, do you guys mind if we go across the hall? That way you can sit if you'd like, Dad."

  "It's fine," he said. "I can stand.”

  "Please?" I stated, then swept my arm to the doorway. No one moved.

  With a sigh, I stood and started across the hallway, hoping they'd follow me. One of the front office staff passed, smiling at me as she did. After she moved past me, I stared down the hallway toward the locker room. No players were milling about, which meant Matthew was probably still showering.

  Single file, with my dad once again in front, they entered the large room. The Wolves logo was painted on the wall, and red and black upholstered chairs faced a massive projection screen. It was one of the bigger meeting rooms we had, large enough to accommodate the entire team and coaching staff.

  "What is this about, Ava?" my mom said once again, taking a seat in the front row and serving me with a dangerous look.

  "You know what it's about," I told her quietly.

  Immediately, she stood and started for the door. "Let's go, Alan, Ashley," she said over her shoulder. "This is ridiculous."

  I blocked her path to the door and propped my hands on my hips. "Sit. Down."

  "Bossy much?" Ashley muttered but watched me with unconcealed interest.

  My mom stared me down, kept her chin lifted, and whispered under her breath. "You're going to destroy her by telling her this."

  "Highly unlikely," I said right back. "She's happy. There's no reason for her to be destroyed by anything I have to say."

  Mom's jaw tightened, and I was shocked I didn't hear the snap of her teeth clenching together, but after a second, she turned and sat down again.

  Behind me, I heard the footsteps coming down the hall, and I pulled in a slow breath through my nose, letting it out through my lips. My brows bent in when a low hum of voices grew in volume.

  Way too many voices.

  I stuck my head out into the hallway and saw close to two dozen defensive players striding down the hallway. Matthew's head bobbed somewhere in the middle of the pack, talking to someone next to him. Gary was in the front and gave me two thumbs up when he saw me gawking.

  I held up a finger to my family. "One second."

  Gary stopped and smiled when I darted out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind me. "Delivered as promised."

  My eyes took in almost the entire de
fense—the entire defense—then rested briefly on Matthew, who had just noticed me. His eyes held mine, and I had to lick my suddenly dry lips. I could read nothing in those eyes, but he was still watching me intently.

  I blinked, looking away.

  "Gary," I said under my breath, leaning in so only he could hear me. "I don't need all of them. I said to send down Hawkins."

  "Ohhhhhh," he drawled sheepishly. He scratched the side of his face. "Uhh, it was loud out there, so I couldn't hear everything you said."

  "And you're deaf, old man," Carter, one of the defensive ends, said, and everyone else cracked up. Except for Matthew. His face had taken on a speculative gleam when Carter piped up again. "What's up, Baker? We in trouble?"

  I pasted a smile on my face. "No trouble, just a little misunderstanding. I didn’t need everyone, that’s all."

  No one moved. Except for Gary. He saw the look on my face and brushed past me. "Enjoy your meeting!"

  Note to self- don't ask Gary for a favor ever again.

  "You guys can go," I told them but held Matthew's eyes. "I just need to talk to Hawkins. Gary got the message mixed up."

  And again, no one moved. I narrowed my eyes when two of the defensive backs traded a completely loaded look.

  "Hawkins, huh?" Carter asked with a sly smile.

  "Carter," Matthew said in a warning tone, moving toward me through the crowd of players.

  "Does Ward have anything to do with this?"

  My face paled, and I tried to keep my voice even when I answered. "N-no, why?"

  Thank goodness Logan wasn't in the group of players.

  There was a chorus of ooooohs at my response. I almost stomped my foot. "Go away, all of you."

  Matthew approached me slowly. A few guys walked away, but a solid six or seven hung back, watching us with glee.

  "What is going on?" I whispered to him.

  He grimaced. "Well, Logan and I might have almost gotten in a fight in the weight room yesterday, and they heard us talking about a woman, so..." His voice trailed off. "I think they're putting some puzzle pieces together."