Page 111 of The Game Plan
“Yeah, Savvy,” Chloe chimes in. “How are youreally? We’re worried about you. Your texts are flat, and you hardly call.”
I inhale deeply and stare down at my daughter in my friend's lap. Cleo comes crawling our way, and Brynn scoops her up. She’s speaking softly to her daughter while introducing her to mine. It’s a dream to see my favorite girls under one roof. They’re both giving me a minute to process and to gain the courage to talk to them. I shouldn’t need courage, but it’s hard to discuss the invisible battles. The mental health struggles no one else can see but me.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” I begin. “I feel like I’m constantly in a battle with my brain. It’s like I’m standing on enemy lines, being shot at with all of these terrifying what-if scenarios. I don’t feel like I can leave Lennon alone for a second, or something bad is going to happen. I love her and Grant so much, but I miss myself. I don’t know this new version of me, and I feel like it’s killing me slowly.”
I choke out a sob as the tears fall. Chloe wraps her arm around me and pulls me into her side. “Oh, Savvy.”
My shoulders shake with the truth. The words have finally been spoken, and I can’t take them back. We sit in the heaviness as I cry on her shoulders. Being vulnerable sucks, and I hate that I’m showing my cards. It also feels like a relief to say my truth and not hold it in.
“I say this with the utmost respect,” Brynn starts, and her softness draws my attention. “But you need to speak with someone. I’m a walking billboard for ‘needs therapy,’ but trust me, once you open up to someone who listens and can help, you’ll wish you’d done it sooner.”
“Do you recommend anyone?” I ask, wiping the tears from my eyes with the bottom of my top.
Brynn nods. “I do. There’s a lady at my clinic who’s incredible. I’ll send a referral.”
“You can always call us, too. And don’t be afraid to open up to Grant,” Chloe says, transferring Lennon into Brynn’s arms while I take Cleo.
Hope blooms in my chest for the first time in weeks. A window of light pours into my mind, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to get through everything and find my spark again.
“Enough about me.” I wave the girls off. “What’s new with you two?”
Chloe pops a piece of cinnamon roll into her mouth, and a wide grin breaks free. “My food blog is taking off. I have emails pouring in from restaurants around the country wanting me to spotlight their establishment.”
“My bestie is a baddie,” Brynn praises.
“That’s so cool, Chlo.” She graduated with a communications degree focused on journalism. Her dad is a Michelin-star chef—his restaurant is where Grant planned our wedding dinner—and she has insane industry connections. Her website is going to be huge.
“The plan is to travel with Cody until we’re ready to settle down and have kids. That’ll give me a few years to experience restaurants in as many cities as I can.”
“I love that plan,” I say with a smile.
“When the fuck is he going to propose?” Brynn bluntly asks.
Chloe shrugs. “It has to be soon, right?”
“You should’ve made him put a ring on it before your ass followed him to Cleveland, of all places.”
“Brynn,” I scold.
“What? It’s true.” She turns her attention to Lennon. “We don’t change for any man, Lenny Lou. No, honey, we wear the pants in the relationships.”
I chuckle at her baby talk. Chloe’s shoulders drop, and I can tell this is a sensitive topic for her. “It’ll happen, Chlo.”
She smiles at me. “How’re the NFL wives and girlfriends?”
“Yeah, what’s the tea?” I ask, shifting in my seat to face Brynn.
She dramatically rolls her eyes. “These bitches are insane.”
We giggle as she continues. “So Q’s teammate, Darius, a wide receiver who’s been in the league for, like, seven years. He thinks he’s God’s gift to the team and the sport… Gag. Anyways, his wife was hosting a brunch at her house to discuss a charity fashion show she’s hosting.”
“Oh, is that the one Macy is sending clothes for?” Chloe asks.
“Yep, that’s the one.” Brynn nods before continuing. She’s getting more animated as she talks. “Anyway, his wife, Remy, has this suspicion that one of the other wives is sleeping with her husband.”
“No!” I gasp.
“Oh yeah. Remy plans this classy brunch with fine china, catered food, flutes of mimosas, the whole nine yards. Except halfway through the eggs Benedict, the suspected adulterer makes a crude comment about Darius. Remy snaps, accuses the woman of cheating, and throws her mimosa in her face.”
