Page 115 of Faking Ties

“Here.” I hand them each an NDA. “I need you to sign this before I can talk.”

“Seriously?” Jake’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

I nod and cross my arms, waiting.

They sign without hesitation once they realize I’m serious.

“Okay,” I say, “so here’s the whole story.” I fill them in on Elodie and Stella and how and why we first started dating. Their faces go from surprised to incredulous the further I get into the story, but it feels good to clue in my best friends with what’s going on. To have more people in my corner to help me through everything.

After Jake and Quincy leave,I call my dad. It’s a call I’ve been putting off for too long. He still hasn’t reached out except to comment about my games. I’ve left him on read, but it doesn’t make it better, this in-between and not knowing where I stand with him.

“This is a surprise,” he says, answering on the first ring.

“Yeah, I know we don’t talk much on the phone.” Or at all.

“Are you ready for the Super Bowl?”

“As much as we can be.”

“In your last game?—”

“Stop, just stop,” I say. “All we talk about is football, but a lot of shit is going on with me and I just… I want to know why you haven’t reached out. To check in on me.”

“Why would I need to check in on you?” he asks incredulously. “You’re a grown adult who did this all to yourself. I told you dating Stella would only lead to disaster.”

“You did. So, what? You’re punishing me for not breaking up with her sooner?”

“She’s distracting you from your game. You need to be focused on your career and not?—"

“You’re doing it again. Only talking about football. If I quit tomorrow, would we even have a relationship?”

Silence stretches between us.

I huff. I guess his silence is answer enough. “I think it’s best if you don’t contact me anymore. I need you to be my dad, not whatever this is.” All I want is my dad to care about me as a person and not my stats. It’s painful for him to confirm that he doesn’t care about me, not really. Not in the way I want or need.

“You can’t be serious. I made you who you are today; you can’t just cut off all contact between us.”

“I’m grateful for all you’ve done, but it’s best if we reevaluate what kind of relationship we have. Until then, I won’t be answering your texts or calls.”

“You ungrateful?—”

I hang up and stare at the black screen in shock. I fully expect him to call me back, to continue his rant, but a small part of me hopes he calls back and apologizes.

But nothing happens. My screen remains black.

Numb, I place my phone on the side of my bed and lie down. There’s relief in knowing where I finally stand with him, as well as grief. Grief for the relationship I thought we had, for the dad I never had.

ELODIE

Imiss Hunter with every fiber of my being, but the only good thing about us not being able to see each other is that he’s become the inspiration behind my bakery.

All the food I’ve had with Hunter, all the flavor combinations we’ve enjoyed together, has become the focus of my menu. Everything from peanut butter and chocolate, to chai, brownies, gelato, pies, and muffins. As I pull from all the flavors we’ve enjoyed together, a real menu begins to take shape. One that’s an ode to Hunter and our love for each other.

I keep glancing at the time, waiting for his call. He just filed a restraining order against the people who were still following him, and I’m anxious to hear his latest update. It’s one of the last hurdles we must overcome before we can be together.

Finally, my phone rings and I snatch it up from the counter.

“How did it go?” I ask, my leg bouncing in anticipation.

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