∞ ∞ ∞
Never, I'd never look at, let alone drink, another glass of wine again. My head desperately begged for medicine and my mouth, water.
Alyssa rounded the corner with a smile. Who was she? "Wake up, buttercup."
"Who are you and what happened to my best friend who drank as much as I did last night?"
She handed me a bottle of water. I liked her a little more. "Thanks."
"You drank one bottle of wine." She dropped three pills in my hand. "Tylenol," she clarified, and I popped them in my mouth. "You're a lightweight."
I groaned. "What time is it?"
"Ten, so hurry and get in the shower." When Alyssa left me, I covered my face with the blanket. A few minutes later, blaring heavy metal music blasted throughout the house. "Get up," she sing-songed, jerking the cover from my face.
"I so hate you." Slowly, I sat up, regretting ever sharing my cookies with her back in kindergarten.
Showered and mostly sobered up, we were ready to meet Mom and Mrs. Daniels at the bridal shop. Before we left in separate cars, my so-called friend refused to stop for breakfast.
"If I don't eat something, I'll vomit." She'd conceded by tossing me a sleeve of crackers. Once the rolling settled, I remembered a few naughty text messages Tristan sent last night. I swear I'd never get over how much he affected me.
Light music played when we walked inside the store. Mom and Mrs. Daniels stood by a row of beautiful gowns talking with a lady. They waved us over.
"You must be the bride."
"That's me." I scratched the inside of my wrist.
"Look around. I've set you up in the middle dressing room when you're ready."
Finding the perfect dress wasn't as easy as expected. Each one I'd shimmied in and out of turned my excitement into melancholy.
"Here's this one." Alyssa hung up a few more dresses to try on. "Don't get discouraged."
"I'm trying not to."
Alyssa handed me a tissue.
"Thanks," I said, wiping my nose.
Alyssa closed the door and went back to the task. The first two, while pretty, didn't feel right, so I slipped into the last one Alyssa gave me.
The Dress.
"Mom, don't cry," I warned behind the curtain. The layers of satin fanned out in front of me. The waist was belted with diamonds, just as I'd imagined.
"Get your ass out here," Alyssa demanded.
The material crinkled when I shuffled out of the dressing room. Mom's hand went to her mouth, and Tristan's mom gasped.
"That's the one." Alyssa's blue eyes filled with tears.
Mom made her way to me, looking at the dress in the mirror. She placed her hands on my waist and rested her chin on my bare shoulders. "Heather would love it."
I clasped her trembling hand and squeezed. "Thanks, Mom."
"I think you should wear your hair up," Mrs. Daniels commented, coming up on the other side.
Mom worked my hair in an up-do with her fingers. "Yes, maybe in a loose bun with a few pieces falling from the side?"
Mrs. Daniels' smile reached her eyes, reminding me so much of Tristan's.
"The dress is a perfect fit," said the sales lady. "Shall I bag it for you?"
My voice wobbled when I said, "Yes, please." Changing back into my long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans, and sandals, I met the others in the main lobby. Mom held the black bag over her arm.
"We're starved," Mrs. Daniels said, wrapping her arm around her middle.
"I could definitely eat." I glanced at my watch. "Let me run this home and I'll meet y'all."
"We can drop it off at my house," Alyssa offered.
As much as I loved her, um, no.
"Yeah, no."
Her forehead creased, and she pursed her lips. "Fine."
"Text me the place and I'll meet you there."
"All right, dear." Mom kissed my cheek.
"Love you," I said, waving on my way to the car.
As soon as I parked in my driveway, I plucked the keys from the ignition, grabbed the black garment bag, and rushed up to open the front door. Boxes were lined against walls, more empty than full. Bret and the guys definitely hadn't thrown a packing party.
None of our clothes were packed yet. At the far back on my side of the closet, I slid the dress between my formals. Tristan and the guys planned a day of golfing, so hopefully he wouldn't snoop around.
Purse in hand and ready to leave, I started for the door when someone knocked. When I opened the door, I half expected to find Alyssa standing on my doorstep.
Never in a million years had I expected the person who did.
Tristan
"Four!" Bret hollered as an elderly man bent to pick up his ball. The old-timer scowled at Bret, shaking his head.
"Man, you're making me look like a pro," I said, trying to gain composure. My gut hurt from laughing at him all morning.
"Bite me," Bret countered, sulking as he plunged his driver in the bag.
"Rixon, you're up, man," I said, ignoring Bret's remark. The guy had never played, so I handed him a club, helping him out. Last night his band showed up and hung with us at the house. My last night of freedom, some of the guys had said.
Bret leaned in. "Tisha says she loves him. Guess I'm good with that as long as she's happy." He shrugged. "I suppose he's not so bad." Rixon's ball rolled past Bret's, stopping close to mine. "Changed my mind. The fucker gets on my nerves."
"What's so funny?" Rixon looked between Bret's scowl and my amusement.
"Nice job," Bret's dad encouraged, slapping a hand on his son-in-law's upper arm. Bret shot me an annoyed glare.
"Remember, he married your baby girl without anyone knowing."
"I've never seen your sister happier," Mr. McMillan retorted.
Dad walked over, breaking up the conversation. "Two holes left, men."
Chuckling, I moved from the golf cart. "Let's get this done."
Instead of lightly tapping his next shot, Bret put some fire behind it. His ball rolled past the hole, landing in the sand.
"Can't say I've ever played with someone like you." Dad laughed.
"I see where Tristan got his excellent sense of humor from," Bret grumbled.
The next two holes ended quickly, and Dad ended up walking away with the winner's title.
Dad and Mr. McMillan drove ahead of us in their own cart. Bret's Cheetos-scented breath crowded me in the back. I shifted closer to the outer edge of the cart, holding onto the rail so as not to fall out while Rixon drove.
"You hear from Alyssa?" I'd purposefully left my phone in the car. My leg jumped at the idea of Elle trying on dresses. While texting last night, I tried convincing her that eloping would be the best choice. She hadn't agreed.
"Nah, just something about heading to lunch. Everything okay, man?"
Bret's concern was misplaced. Wrong? No, the opposite.
"Yeah," I answered, then focused on Rixon. "You need any help moving Tisha into your place?"
"No thanks. We're about moved in. She's, um, redecorating." His face paled. "That's why she didn't make it over with the girls last night."
Bret found his discomfort funny. "Sounds about right. She messed with my shit all the time growing up."
Rixon rubbed his palms down his jeans. "You guys ready for the pros?"
"Dude, I was born ready." Bret's cocky grin made me laugh.
Rixon smiled at him and said to me, "What about you and Elle? Marriage then you're off to camp. That's gotta be stressful considering you'll leave her right after the honeymoon."
Fucking reporter till the end. "Elle and I are ready for the next step. Football is like any other career, and we'll work out whatever kinks come our way. As for marriage, I've loved her long before now, and I'll love her every time I run onto the field. So no, I'm not worried."
"You've proven me wrong. You really do have it all." Rixon nodded. His expression, though I didn't know him well enough to be certain, looked a hell of a lot like respect.
; "Enough with the heavy." Bret pointed to Rixon. "This is guy time, which means no weasel reporter shit." He shrugged. "Unless you enjoy getting your ass kicked. 'Cause I have no problem blackening up that left eye to match the right one."
An obnoxious grin spread across Rixon's face.
I shut him down before the day ended with someone in jail or the emergency room, possibly both. "Everyone just calm down." I gripped Rixon's shoulder and squeezed a little too tightly. "He's not running a story. Right?"
He smiled through the discomfort. "Okay, okay. No story." Rixon rolled his neck when I released my hold. We stopped the cart, and he about jumped from the seat.
"You boys okay?" Dad asked.
"Yeah, all good here." I nodded to the guys. "Right?"
Nine holes and done today, which was good, considering Bret and I had workout time before heading home. "Bret, you ready?"
"I'll meet you there." He and the others waved on the way to their vehicles.
Dad followed me to my car. "How's it going?" He jiggled the change in his pocket.
"Maybe a little nervous about when we leave. Oh." I pulled out my phone. "We found a house." Dad scrolled through the pictures. "We looked at several, and this was the last one Derrick sent."
Dad let out a whistle. "Good find." He handed me the phone. "Movers set up yet?"
"They're scheduled to load up two days before the wedding."
"Cutting it close, son."
"Yeah." A small amount of unease trickled down my spine. No. No, bad thoughts. As long as everything fell into place, life would be good. "Derrick assured me we'll be set to go as soon as I'm up there." I cranked the window down and started the car, turning the air on full blast, then stepped back out. "You and Mom headed back home today?"
Dad shifted on the balls of his feet. "I think so. You better get going." He pulled me in for a hug.
"Thanks, Dad."
∞ ∞ ∞
After over an hour at the gym, sweat dripped from my forehead and into my eyes. "I'm out."
"Pussy, we've only been here an hour," Bret grunted, pressing more weight than necessary.
"I work out more than you, fat ass."
"Alyssa cooks, bro."
Sweat dripped from my shirt as I rung it out. "I can tell, beefalo."
Bret threw a princess fit, slamming the bar down, and tossing a towel at my face. I caught it, laughing as I ran it over my head to dry the wetness.
"See you later." A few items spilled out of my bag when I picked it up, and I tossed the extra shirt back in. Outside, a welcomed breeze hit my heated face.
Gravel stuck to the bottom of my shoes from the wet tar on the way to the car. My phone chimed after turning it on. A text sent from the Saints'' athletics director came through. Your football itinerary has been emailed. Look over everything and be ready to go the first of June. If you have any questions, shoot me a text. See you soon.
After reading the email, my legs grew antsy. Tossing the ball, rushing, passing along with the other drills, I was ready for it all. My smile faded when I noticed the missed calls. One call from Elle and the other two from Kellie. Odd. Elle sent a text, too. Unless you're on your way home, call me.
Elle
"Elle, hi."
"Kellie, um, hey."
She glanced at the keys in my hand. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"I'm actually meeting–"
"Please."
In the past, Kellie had lied and manipulated Tristan, not to mention the vile things she'd said to me. So why the pressing need to allow her in? The vulnerability in her voice.
Nodding, I opened the door for her to come inside.
"Sorry, the house is a mess. Let me move some stuff over." The boxes weren't too heavy, and I shifted them to the side with my foot making a clear path to the couch.
Kellie sat on the sofa, and I closed the door, stunned by how much she'd changed since I'd seen her last October. Kellie had always been thin, but her skin hugged her bones too closely. Her long brown hair used to match mine, but not anymore. The chin-length bob was cute, though the texture didn't look real.
With apprehension, I joined her on the couch. "So, what brings you by?"
Kellie's hands shook. Was she sick? I shifted closer to clasp her trembling hands. They were cold.
Kellie timidly glanced up. "I called Tristan, but he didn't answer." She licked her cracked lips, causing both cheeks to cave in. "So I thought I'd chance it and swing by."
My chest tightened. "He's been out playing golf."
Kellie's phone rang, and she reached into her purse to grab the device but dropped it instead.
"Here, let me." I picked up her cell. A picture of Kellie holding a baby flashed across the screen.
"Sorry, I'm so clumsy these days." Kellie provided a nervous smile, taking the phone from my grip, and hurried to answer. "Hey, Mom." She shifted her knees away. "Yeah, I made his food before I left. It's in the fridge. Love you, too." She paused, nodding. "Just got here. I'll drive home in the morning." When Kellie ended the call, she faced me.
"Everything okay?" A knot tightened in my gut after seeing the baby in the picture and the affection that brightened Kellie's face.
She smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles from her lavender long-sleeved shirt. "Mom's watching Conner." She tucked the phone in the side pocket of her small purse.
"Who's Conner?"
Kellie opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A smile, the very one displayed on the phone, graced her lips now. She needn't confirm my question, though she did. "He's my son."
The baby's picture flashed in my mind again, and though the father could be anyone, I didn't think he was just anyone.
"Elle?" Kellie's hand on my shoulder didn't register at first. "You don't look so good."
"Baby?" I closed my eyes. "Who's the father?"
Her answer destroyed me.
"Tristan."
I stared, mouth agape as my lungs seized, restricting airflow.
My ringing phone brought me out of the momentary shock. With numb fingers, I responded to the call. "Hey, Mom."
"Honey, where are you? We're at the restaurant waiting."
"Mom, something came up. I'm not going to make it to lunch."
"Elle, honey, are you all right? You don't sound–"
"Yeah, I mean yes." If I didn't hang up soon, I'd lose it. "Mom, I've got to go. The movers are here." My voice turned pitchy and I paused, taking a cleansing breath. "I totally forgot."
"We can come to y–"
"No, don't. I'll call when I'm done. The place is a mess right now."
"Well, okay, dear. I–" She blew into the line, and a tear slipped down my cheek. "I love you."
"Love you, too. Bye." I hit end and stared at Kellie, taking her in. No threatening vibes filtered through. Numbness took hold. What the hell was I supposed to do?
"I'm not here to cause problems." Kellie brushed the hair from her forehead.
Anger should have reared up, making me question her motives, but the fight wasn't there. Hurt tugged at my chest knowing he and Kellie created a perfect gift. Their baby, not ours. "Why now? How could you keep this from him?" My voice shook.
"I have cancer."
Another slash at my heart. "Kellie, I–" Oh God.
"Thing is, I can't do this on my own, Elle." Her cocoa-colored eyes filled with a mix of strength and pain. "I'm-I'm dying."
"Oh, Kellie, that's– I mean, I'm so sorry." Now my hands trembled.
"I–" A sort of tenderness altered her fragile features, and my stomach sank deeper. The woman sitting before me was not the same young girl I met last year. "I'm not here to cause problems, I promise, but I couldn't put this off any longer."
"After I found out about the pregnancy, I was too far along to terminate."
"Terminate?"
She flinched.
"I'm sorry. Please, go on," I encouraged, wanting to understand rather than judge.
"You must think keeping this from Tristan is
terrible."
A part of me screamed "Yes!" because as much as I wanted to be the woman who gave him children, Tristan deserved to be part of the life he'd created with Kellie.
"Kellie, I'm trying to digest this the best I can. Please, finish telling me." The cool, calm voice didn't sound or reflect the turmoil rolling inside of me.
She focused on twisting her fingers together. "I didn't want to admit I was pregnant in the beginning. Partying and meeting people were my top priorities back then." She laughed. "So when my clothes didn't fit, and the growing belly refused to stay hidden, I withdrew from school and went home. By the time I ended up visiting my doctor, they found cervical cancer." Kellie took in a shaky breath. "At that point, I wanted it out, and I didn't want to have anything to do with a baby."
Kellie shook her head, wiping under her eyes. "They suggested I start treatments after delivery, to which I agreed, until the first ultrasound. Once I saw his tiny hands, fingers, and cheeks, my perspective changed."
She glanced up with a smile, so bright her face transformed into a healthier version. "I'd learned then what real love was."
I clenched Kellie's hand and squeezed. "God, I'm so sorry. Really. But, why didn't you tell Tristan? He would have been there for you and the baby."
"Right." She fidgeted on the couch. "So, I actually came back once."
"You did?"
The right side of her mouth lifted, revealing a small smile. "But after seeing the way he looked at you..." Tears dripped onto her hand. "You hadn't even seen him yet, but when you turned around, it was like you knew he was there." She cocked her head to the side. "You two were always connected in a way he and I never were."
More tears fell, but she didn't bother hiding the evidence. "When you walked toward each other, he didn't kiss you, and you didn't wrap yourself around him. Instead, you just stared at each other and smiled.
"Interrupting your happiness didn't feel like the honorable thing to do then." The gloominess shadowing her features cleared and color filled in her cheeks. "After my son's birth, I found the kind of love I saw between you and Tristan." She blew out a long sigh. "He never once looked at me the way he does you."
Interception (Distraction #3) Page 19