Page 3 of Shattered Dreams
I bite my lip as I leave Poppy's room, my palm clammy as I close her door. The front door opens, and my heart leaps into my throat.
He's home. This is it.
I lean over the stair rail to see the dark hair and broad shoulders of my husband as he enters the foyer, eyes scanning for me.
"Ava?" His voice sounds strained, tense.
"I'm here! I've just put Poppy down," I whisper as I descend the stairs, heart in my throat.
Be strong. Everything will be fine. Probably NFL business.
But intuition tells me otherwise, and panic rises as I ask, "What's going on?"
His gaze drops instantly as he swallows, shoulders slumping.
God, it's bad.
He struggles to meet my eyes as he licks his lips, reaching for my hands. "Is Poppy?—"
"Asleep," I say, my voice strained. I pull my hands away. "Again. She wanted you to brush her teeth."
"Babe, I'm sorry. I...I need to talk to you. Can we go to the den?"
He avoids my eyes, and anxiety grips me. Nausea washes over me as I follow him to the den, where a canvas of infant Poppy watches over us. I sit on the edge of the white leather couch, remembering countless passionate moments before Poppy arrived.
Now we barely sit together.
"What's going on?" I push my hair back as he closes his eyes, his breath unsteady.
I try to prepare myself, but nothing prepares me for what follows.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Ava," he whispers, eyes glistening with sadness.
Oh no.
"What for? What have you done?" My lips move, but I barely feel it.
Iknow what he’s going to say, but I refuse to believe it.
Eight years together, six married.
Impossible.
"I've been having..." His voice catches as he curses, reaching for my hands while I stare in silence, my thoughts burning like wildfire.
No. No, no, no. Not this.
I'd imagined gambling debts, steroids, training fights, suspensions—a thousand scenarios. Not this.
I barely hear him through the sudden ringing in my ears, but I wait for him to finish the sentence that will forever alter our lives.
"I've been having an affair."
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AVA
THEN
