Page 53 of Boards & Betrayal

Nick's face flashed in my mind, twisted in anger and betrayal when he found out. The image felt like a knife twisting deeper into an already raw wound. His mother had been quick to fan those flames, making sure Nick saw me as nothing more than a selfish bastard who couldn't keep his hands off his ex-girlfriend.

I couldn’t blame him for hating me for it; hell, sometimes I hated myself for it too.

Saint’s voice cut through my thoughts. "You think there's any way to fix this?"

"I don't know," I admitted, feeling the weight of those words sink into me. It wasn’t just about Ally or Nick or even my career anymore. It was about years of mistakes and regrets piled so high I could barely see over them. "I don't even know if I want to."

Saint nodded as if he'd expected that answer all along.

I appreciated the sentiment, but doubted there was anything left to salvage. The gap between Nick and me felt like anunbridgeable chasm, one that no amount of apologies or explanations could ever span.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the noise from the television and the chaotic thoughts in my mind. The image of Ally, her auburn hair framing her delicate face, filled the darkness behind my eyelids. Being with her was the only thing that made sense anymore. She was my first priority—something I never thought I'd have—ever.

The way she looked at me, with those expressive blue eyes, made me feel like I was worth something more than just my past mistakes. Yet, there was a shadow lurking in those eyes, a barrier she wouldn't let me cross. Something was going on with her, and the fact that she didn't trust me enough to share it gnawed at my insides.

How bad could it be? What kind of weight was she carrying alone?

My thoughts drifted back to the night we met. She had been raw and real, her vulnerability laid bare before me. But now, that openness had vanished, replaced by walls I couldn’t seem to breach.

She tried to act like everything was fine when we were together, but I could see through it. Her smiles didn’t reach her eyes anymore, and sometimes, when she thought I wasn’t looking, her expression would cloud over with something heavy and painful.

I wanted to help her carry whatever burden she bore, but she kept me at arm’s length. It felt like watching someone drown while being tied to the shore—helpless and infuriating.

I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in my shoulders refuse to ease up. Ally meant everything to me now. I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone again. Not after all the crap I'd been through—the injury, the failed relationship, the strained relationship with Nick.

But with Ally? It felt different. It felt real in a way nothing else had for a long time.

Yet this secret of hers threatened to put a wedge between us. How could we move forward if she couldn’t trust me enough to let me in?

The uncertainty gnawed at me every day, making it harder to focus on anything else. Coaching? My career? None of it mattered as much as being there for her did.

I opened my eyes again and stared blankly at the TV screen, its flickering images now just background noise. Ally was what mattered now. Whatever it took, I needed to find a way to get through to her—to let her know that she didn’t have to carry whatever it was alone.

But first, she had to let me in.

I woketo the gentle patter of a light spring drizzle against the roof. The soft sound was a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling in my head. I lay there for a moment, taking in the familiar surroundings of my townhouse, trying to ground myself.

Ally slept next to me, her auburn hair splayed across the pillow like a halo. She looked peaceful; her face relaxed and devoid of the tension. Her freckles stood out against her pale skin, adding a touch of innocence that belied the strength she carried within. Her lips, slightly parted, seemed softer in sleep, free from the burdens she tried so hard to hide during the day.

Careful not to disturb her, I slowly pulled away, ensuring she remained wrapped snugly in the blankets. She murmured something unintelligible but didn’t wake as I slipped out of bed.

I found my sweats on the floor and pulled them on quietly. The room felt cool and damp from the drizzle outside, but it was a welcome contrast to the warmth of Ally’s body heat that lingered on my skin.

The house was silent as I made my way to the kitchen. It had a modern charm to it—sleek but cozy. The wooden floors creaked slightly under my weight, but it was a comforting sound in its own way. It reminded me of simpler times before life became so damn complicated.

I reached the kitchen and found myself staring out of the window for a moment. The world outside looked fresh and new under the soft autumn rain. I needed this moment of calm before facing whatever came next.

The kitchen smelled faintly of coffee from yesterday, and I moved on autopilot, reaching for a mug and filling it with water before setting it on to boil. As I waited for it to heat up, my thoughts drifted back to Ally sleeping peacefully in the other room.

Seeing her like that—so vulnerable and unguarded—stirred something deep within me. A protective instinct I hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just about wanting her; it was about needing to be there for her in ways no one else could be.

But first things first: coffee.

The kettle whistled softly, snapping me back to reality.

I poured the steaming water over the coffee grounds, the rich aroma filling the kitchen and mingling with the cool morning air. It was a small comfort, something normal in a life that had become anything but. I watched as the dark liquid dripped into the pot, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at such a simple task.

Setting the coffee to brew, I rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon. A proper breakfast seemed like agood idea—something to start the day right. A surprise for her, to show her I could. To show her I cared.

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