Page 117 of The Game Plan
My throat tightens, and I nod again.
Laughter swirls around us as the guys joke. Bret talks about how excited she is for graduation and to see where Crew ends up. She’s already decided she’s going to follow him wherever he getsdrafted. They’re planning a trip to Silo Bay, his hometown, for the summer.
“Wait, is that in Ohio?”
She nods. “Have you been?”
“No, but my aunt and cousin moved about an hour from there last winter when she got married. He has a boat that they take to Lake Drummond.”
“It’s beautiful. We should all plan a getaway.”
“A boat and a cold drink? Count me in.” Brynn laughs.
“I think that’s only a few hours from us.” Chloe smiles. “Look at us, planning our next trip.”
Bret asks Chloe what living in Ohio is like, and I listen in. We’re laughing again, and for a second, I almost feel like myself.
But when Brynn leans close, I can sense the dread forming before she opens her mouth.
“Grant knows about the house search,” she whispers, worry and care in her eyes as she searches mine.
My stomach sinks.
Everything was almost perfect.
Today, I saw a glimpse of the girl I used to be.
It’s been a day filled with everything I used to love—coffee with the girls, a day at the spa getting pampered, and dinner at Chloe’s dad’s restaurant, where images of dancing with Grant on my wedding night flashed in my memory. Emily watched Lennon for the entire day while Brynn treated the three of us to service after service at a high-end spa. I felt guilty that she paid, but she waved it off, saying it was a perk of being married to a professional athlete.
Somewhere between the deep-tissue massage and Brynn making me laugh so hard I snorted champagne in the salon, I felt normal. Although I don’t recommend snorting champagne through your nose—that shit burns. As I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a fluffy white robe, I saw color on my cheeks and a version of myself I thought I’d lost.
A fresh cut and color gave me back my lighter hair. It’s not the blonde it used to be or the dull brunette my natural color is, but a light caramel. It highlights my features and makes my blue eyes look livelier. My nails are no longer chipped and bare butpainted in the prettiest shade of coral.
For a little while, I feel like maybe I’m okay.
But now, it’s quiet. Too quiet.
It’s not the peaceful kind of quiet where you can relax and shut your brain off, but the kind that feels lonely. It’s the quiet I was used to when I lived above the Chinese restaurant. I never want to go back to feeling that way.
Lennon’s asleep in her room. All the laundry is washed and folded. The kitchen is scrubbed down to Grant’s standard. And I’m lying in bed, under the covers, scrolling mindlessly through my phone while a movie plays in the background.
I should feel better, but I don’t. I feel like a fraud. Someone playing dress-up in my own body, trying to remember what confidence felt like before I cracked under the pressure of motherhood.
Worse than that, I feel guilty.
Today kept my mind busy, and I wasn’t able to dwell on the guilt. But in this bed, alone, I feel it.
Guilty for enjoying the day and for searching for houses.
But most of all, guilty for letting Grant see the listings.
He didn’t deserve to see my moment of weakness. Not when he’s sacrificed so much and given me more than I could’ve asked for. I didn’t even mean to look, not really. I needed…I don’t know, control. A glimpse of what independence might look like. A sliver of the old me. The girl who made lists and chased dreams. The wild girl who was always ready to have a good time. The girl who kept her emotions in check and didn’t crumble at the first sign of trouble.
To make matters worse, he left with the football team at eight this morning and won’t be back until Sunday afternoon. I miss him like crazy. We got home late last night; he showered while I put Lennon to bed. He did the middle-of-the-night and early-morning feedings, as usual. I was too scared to mention it before he left.
I was curled on the couch under a blanket with Lennon on my lap when he kissed me goodbye. He said he loved me, like everything was fine.
But I saw the concern and fear in his eyes. The weight of everything hangs heavily on his shoulders.
