by J Santiago
Amber had no idea how long she’d been sitting upstairs. She’d stripped out of her work clothes and tossed on a pair of sleep shorts and one of Tank’s T-shirts. His scent clung to the material, wrapping her up in the illusion of him. She’d taken the elevator to the loft upstairs and pressed all the buttons to let the night air envelop her. The smells of summer and the city filled the space. One deep breath, and she could be somewhere else, a different memory wrapped in the colors of summer—a day on the lake with Keira when she was thirteen, an hour of rehab when she’d first awoken from the accident, a morning with Tank on the turf. Things that hadn’t changed just because everything she thought was true was really a lie.
Around midnight, just when Amber didn’t think she could keep her eyes open for another second, the elevator dinged behind her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she was waiting for Tank to appear. She thought she conjured him from all of her musing, but with his approach imminent, her body stiffened. He might have seen it because he paused in his pursuit to reach her.
Sensing his indecision on what to do, she murmured, “I didn’t realize I was waiting for you.”
He was on her in a second, his arms wrapping her up, even as he held himself away from her. “Been calling you for a while.”
She had forgotten her phone in her purse. “I left my phone downstairs.”
His thumb lightly rubbed her back, just making sure she knew he was there. “I’m just glad you’re here and that you’re safe.”
“At first, I didn’t know where to go. I was homeless.”
He stiffened. “This is your home. Our home.”
She didn’t reply. What she wanted to say would hurt him, and one of them bleeding today was enough.
“Franco’s pretty frantic right now. Can I text him to let him know you are okay?” Tank asked.
She merely nodded. She understood Franco’s worry, and although part of her wanted to make him sweat, it didn’t seem fair. One of Tank’s hands dropped from her waist. She saw the light from his phone glow in her peripheral vision. Whatever he texted, he did it one-handed. His other hand stayed her against him, like she might flee at any second.
Amber sensed Tank’s desire to talk, to pick her brain, explore her heart, try and figure out just where her head was at. But weariness hit her hard.
He scooped her up. Foregoing the elevator, he cradled her close and walked deliberately down the steps. Pulling down the comforter, he slid her body between the sheets and tucked the blankets up under her chin.
“I’m going to close up the loft,” he whispered near her ear before softly kissing her on her forehead, the caress of his lips a comfort.
“Come back,” she responded.
“Count on it.”
Then, he left her, and she burrowed deep into the covers she’d dreamed of when she left Franco’s house. She drifted until Tank crawled in behind her. Then, she slept.
Amber woke before dawn, the weak light sliding through the plantation shutters. Tank remained wrapped around her, his arm slung around her waist, his knee shoved between her legs. She shimmied away and made her way to the bathroom. Taking a quick shower, she dressed haphazardly, only concerned with getting out of the house before Tank woke up.
Her purse sat on the counter where she’d flung it the night before. Searching it, she found her phone and tapped it, checking to see if the information she’d requested was waiting for her. Embedded in the overwhelming amount of text messages, she found the one she sought.
Disarming the alarm, she hurried to her car, knowing Tank would wake shortly. She plugged her phone in and mapped the address. She didn’t think about what she wanted to say. She merely drove, her only thought her first stop—the coffee she knew she would need to survive the day.
Before she knew it, she was pulling up to Madison’s secure building. Keira must have sensed her desperation because she’d included a code. It got her into the underground parking deck and up the elevator. Before she could second-guess herself, she was knocking on Madison’s door. Her first attempt went unanswered.
So, she knocked harder and almost smiled when a frustrated, harried voice called out a greeting, “Who is it?”
“Amber,” she responded.
The door quickly popped open, like Madison couldn’t quite believe Amber would show up at her apartment. Even forced out of bed, Madison Shepard appeared unfazed. If Amber had hoped for an advantage by showing up unannounced at seven in the morning, it didn’t appear she had one. Madison didn’t even look shocked to see her. Holding out one of the two coffees she’d picked up, she pushed her way into Madison’s condo.
Glancing around, she took in the designer decor with a mental shrug. After her quick perusal, she made her way to the right, the direction she imagined the kitchen would be. Following a short hallway, she turned into a black-and-white marble showcase kitchen. There were three barstools pulled up to a high bar, so she took a seat in one of them and finally took a sip of her coffee. Inhaling both the scent and the taste, she relaxed against the back of the stool. Madison had followed her, but rather than sitting, she leaned against the counter across from the bar, watching Amber with open curiosity.
Instead of speaking, they each sipped their coffee, appraising each other.
“Little early,” Madison commented.
Amber leaned her head to the side. “Last night, it was too late,” she offered as an explanation.
“I guess Tank told you about the baby,” Madison said smugly.
“Among other things,” was the only response Amber offered.
“Hmm. Well, maybe you should tell me why you’re here.”
“I guess I’m trying to figure out your angle. Are you hoping Tank will come back to you?”
Madison scoffed. “Why would I want that?”
“I’m not sure. Why would you want to pawn someone else’s child off on him?”
Madison’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know that it’s not his child.”
“You don’t know that it is. But you know, I get why you would want it to be his over the alternative.”
This time, Madison’s eyes widened. “Thought he was your best friend.”
“Yeah, that all changed the night we kissed,” Amber said nonchalantly. “Some people just don’t do well with rejection.” She enjoyed the way Madison’s back stiffened. “And, once Tank and I started to get back together, he just couldn’t handle it for some reason. Although I’m confused about the timing. When did you guys hook up?”
“What is it you hoped to accomplish by coming here?” Madison said, her patience apparently at an end.
“My parentage doesn’t matter. You can tell the whole world that Franco’s not my father. It will only make him look like a better man than most people already think he is.”
Madison looked astonished.
“You thought Tank wouldn’t tell me, didn’t you?”
Madison looked away from her, biding her time, sipping on her coffee. Then, she turned back to Amber, a malicious glint in her eye. “You know, this might be Tank’s only shot at fathering a child, especially if he stays with you.”
The comment hit exactly where it was intended. Amber had had no idea Madison knew about the circumstances surrounding her accident. She tried to don a disinterested mask, but Madison watched the cut bleed open. Amber hated that Tank had heard about it from Madison, but there wasn’t anything she could do to change it.
“You know, the more I learn about you, the more I think you and Steele are perfect for each other. Bitter and wanting lives that clearly aren’t yours. You do know he used you, right? I mean, he took complete advantage of you, using your jealousy for his own nefarious purpose.” Amber smiled, a sliver of victory. “You basically deserve each other. Too bad that child of yours won’t get as lucky as I did.”
Madison clearly had taken all she was going to. “I think you should leave,” she said.
Amber stood and walked toward the door. She didn’t know what she had been
hoping to accomplish. Perhaps Madison would think twice before she tried to blackmail Tank next time. Maybe she just wanted to show Madison that she and Tank were a united front. She wasn’t sure, but she felt a little bit lighter as she walked toward the door.
“You can’t stop any of this information from getting out. Especially since all of it is the truth.”
Amber turned before she reached the door. “Do your damnedest. Just remember, that last time, Tank might have been with you, but he was wishing he were with me.”
Amber wanted to pretend she was better than Madison. But her self-righteousness died the moment she got to her Audi. She flung herself into the seat as the expectation of relief shattered. There was no relief in sight. The gaping pit in her stomach was still there, growing with the knowledge of an imagined history. She’d hoped confronting the source would sew up some of the tears, but her excursion to Madison’s hadn’t made her feel much better.
Again, for the second time in mere hours, she didn’t know where to go. Tank was waiting at home for her, but her need for him the night before had left her too exposed to be with him today. She didn’t think she could open herself up as he tried to heal her. Her head dropped against the seat.
It took her a moment to name the feeling. At first, she thought it was despair. Then, she thought maybe it was just sadness seeping through her. It wasn’t until she put the car in reverse, thinking of driving home, that she realized she felt unprepared. She hadn’t been prepared for this tremendous need she had for Tank. All the ground they’d gained in the last months was slipping away, like a sinkhole swallowing ground. She needed a time out.
Tank would start training camp tomorrow. She could make it through the day. Then, she would have two weeks to figure out how to get her life back.
An entire week passed before Amber reached out to anyone.
Tank had left days earlier with no fanfare. The big night out they’d planned before his report date never happened. Instead, he’d given Amber whatever she needed, which she appreciated.
When she’d first arrived home from Madison’s, he allowed her the space she demanded. But, later that night, when she craved release and the escape that only Tank could give her, he handed that over as well.
The only hesitation he’d shown came as he went to kiss her good-bye. “I’m going to talk to you every day. Right?” he’d asked.
Even with all the battered spaces around her heart, his question hit her, one more bruise among the many. She nodded, not trusting her voice. Then, she watched him throw his bag into the Maserati and leave.
She’d worked insane hours in the days that followed, the new job providing enough of an excuse to escape. Molly tried a couple of times during the week to reach out. Amber managed to avoid every gesture with a legitimate work reason. She knew Molly was just waiting her out.
So, when Saturday arrived, Amber hesitated for only a brief moment before she texted Molly with a request to see the As. She wasn’t ready to go to her father’s house, so they decided to meet at a park near the house.
When she pulled up, she noticed Alexis and Andy waiting impatiently with Molly near the playground. Their little faces lit up with smiles Amber could see all the way across the expanse of green between them. Those expressions provided balm to all the nicks and cuts on her heart, and she found herself eager to hold them in her arms. She left her purse and locked the door. Then, she turned and ran to them, her ponytail hitting the back of her neck, her legs carrying her to the As as fast as they could. The moment she began her sprint, Molly unleashed them, and they came flying to her, a whirl of giggles and hair and wobbly legs. She slid, gently gathering them in her arms, as she tackled them to the ground, a mess of limbs. The three of them laughed and stayed on the grass, rolling and tickling.
But Alexis, ever impatient, began to whine about the slide. They made their way over to the playground, and for the next hour, Amber indulged their every request. She was sweaty and lighthearted by the time they made their way to lunch.
Molly ordered a beer, and Amber followed. They all ate, but the twins couldn’t keep their eyes open, so Andy curled up in Amber’s lap and Alexis, in Molly’s. She ran her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair and then looked up. Molly was studying her across the table. Amber met her gaze for the first time since she’d arrived.
“Are you okay?” Molly ventured tentatively.
Amber took a deep breath and broke the eye contact. “Right now,” she said softly, “I’m pretty perfect.” She smiled sadly. “But other than that? I’m not really sure.”
Molly remained quiet. She took a sip of her beer, adjusted Alexis, and took another sip. Amber wondered if she was trying to figure out what to say or how to say what she wanted to say.
“You have every right to be angry, pissed, hurt.”
“I know,” Amber replied simply.
“I’m angry, too.”
In all her thoughts over the last week, Amber had forgotten that Franco had kept it from Molly. Now, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she could tell that Molly’s thoughts were far from ambiguous.
“You have every right to be angry, pissed, hurt,” Amber mimicked, not sure why she wanted to take her anger out on the woman in front of her.
Molly sat back, readjusted Alexis in her lap, and glared at Amber. “You’re going to play it that way? Like I’m somehow the bad guy here?”
“No. Shit. I’m sorry,” she said, immediately contrite. “I’m just a week out of practice with dealing with anyone I care about.”
Molly smiled slightly. “Even Tank?”
Amber looked away and then back. “Training camp.”
Molly pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Convenient.”
For some reason, her response made Amber laugh. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Couldn’t have come at a better time.”
“Why do you want to avoid Tank? He didn’t really do anything wrong.”
Amber thought about what she wanted to say. She knew Tank was innocent in everything that had happened. His only connection was through Madison. But even that was flimsy because, without Lamarcus Steele, Madison might never have gone down this path. Yet, if she hadn’t gotten involved with Tank again, her life would have gone on, and she could have discovered the truth the way it should have been discovered—when Franco told her.
“Have you asked him why he never told me?”
“Have you?” Molly retorted.
Then, with the hand not holding her daughter, Molly reached out and grabbed Amber’s hand across the table. The whole motion was awkward with them both holding children and a wooden table between them. But something like comfort flowed through the touch, and Amber experienced her first real warmth in days.
“No,” she said.
“Maybe you should.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”
Molly let it go, and Amber’s respect for her increased. They talked about work and how she was fitting in at her new job. They kept it light, and before they knew it, they’d had a couple of beers, and the As had woken up with renewed energy.
“Walk,” Molly suggested.
They ambled down the street, an ice cream shop as their destination, a twin in each hand.
“You’ve forgiven him?” Amber asked suddenly, curious about Molly’s reaction.
Molly laughed. “Uh, forgive might be a little strong. I’m listening.”
“How does that work?” Amber wondered aloud.
“Oh, that’s a much bigger question,” Molly teased. Then, her smile drifted away, and she said, “Let’s get them some ice cream, and while they are occupied, we’ll talk.”
Once the twins were settled with their ice cream, Molly picked the conversation right back up. “He’s devastated. You know that, right?” she began.
Amber swallowed audibly. “I imagine he’s pretty frantic.”
She could picture him perfectly. His hair was probably wild from running his fingers through it repeatedly, his
eyes heavy with worry.
“Yeah,” Molly said softly, pained, as if she were him.
The waves of empathy washed right up to her shore, but Amber tried to shake them off.
“Anyway, he feels bad for not telling me but not bad enough to apologize for withholding it since he never told you. That’s a really hard line for me. I’m far more black and white than your father.”
Amber flinched involuntarily, and she wanted to cry because she couldn’t hear that word without questions bombarding her.
Molly ignored it. “He has a perfectly good explanation for not telling me. He never told you, and he didn’t want to betray you by telling me first. And, as much as I want to flay him for not sharing with me, I get it. So, I’m not only mad at him for not telling me, but I’m also mad at him for making me see his point of view and, shit, for understanding it.”
“Double whammy then?”
“Right. Twice as mad. And, to top it off, your father in a conciliatory mood? Well, let’s just say…” Molly fanned her face.
Amber blushed. “Please don’t take that line of thought any further. I might not forgive you.”
Molly laughed. Then, her smile fell away. “He wants to be sorry for not telling me, but he’s not because you’re who you are to him.”
Amber turned away, knowing she’d invited this but not really sure if she was ready to hear it.
Molly didn’t demand her attention, but she continued, “I know you’re not ready to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway. You are his daughter. In his heart. In his soul. There is no difference in the way he looks at you and the way he looks at the As. I promise, I am not exonerating him in any way, but don’t make this about him not being your biological father. He is your dad. He would never recover if you decide not to forgive him.”
“I just don’t understand what the big deal was. Why even try to hide it?”
“He’s the only one who can answer that for you.”
“Yep,” she said.
“So, you want to tell me what’s going on with Tank?”
“Not really,” Amber answered on a snicker.