Page 58 of Keeping the Single Dad
My pulse pounded. I couldn’t eat because my stomach was in knots with stress. I had to tell him what was going on, but if I did, I’d have to betray my Dad’s trust. Dad wouldn’t want his former teammate knowing his problems. I’d also have to tell him I’d leaked the story about Sean. I got the impression that there was no love lost between Alex and Sean, but Alex was still fiercely loyal to his team. There was no telling how disappointed he’d be with me.
Don’t be a coward. Tell him.
Tell him everything.
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. If I told him then I’d made the decision. I’d chosen Alex over my family. How could I do that when I’d spent a lifetime trying to do right by Dad and Mel? This was the worst possible timing for Dad. I had to hold the faith that he could get back on track, but that would be more difficult if he was being kicked while he was on the floor.
Alex raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re so quiet. Is something wrong?”
He knew there was something off. He’d known before when I hadn’t wanted to tell him about the pregnancy scare. A part of me wanted him to wheedle it out of me. It would be so much easier than having to confess.
I cleared my throat. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”
I held my breath, waiting for him to push me on it, but he smiled and rested his head back on the cushion. His eyes flickered shut. Alex looked younger asleep, before the weight of the world settled on him. He’d been through so much. He’d lost his wife, and he’d had to raise a child on his own while grief-stricken. A goalkeeper lived their life under pressure—always in defense. When you played in attack, you got all the attention. A good goal would see you lifted on your team’s arms and paraded around. A goalkeeper didn’t get that glory. They just did their duty and protected the net. If it went wrong and they let in a goal, they got all the shit in the world thrown at them.
Alex had been under pressure all his life, and he’d weathered it. He’d stood tall and firm, like a mighty oak tree. He’d stepped up when his heart must have been breaking in two, and he’d raised a beautiful child. How could I possibly betray him? Alex would hate me. I’d hate me, too. If I chose my Dad and Mel, I would lose the man I’d fallen in love with. My chest ached. I couldn’t hurt him. I couldn’t hurt Brodie, either. A nauseating despair made my stomach plummet. It was an impossible choice.
Another snore drifted from Brodie. I slid out from underneath him like a ninja, careful not to wake either of them. Brodie’s limbs were limp and heavy as I lifted him into my arms and carried him upstairs to bed. I tucked Brodie in. His lips ruffled into a small smile.
“Night, Lana Banana. Love you.”
He loves me?
My lips parted in surprise and my eyes filled with tears. My heart contracted. I loved him, too. I hadn't meant to get attached to this little boy, but how could I not?
“Night, Brodie." My voice sounded thick and uneven. "I love you, too.”
I went back downstairs and watched Alex sleeping. Pain speared my chest, and it hurt so much I wanted to weep. This is why I didn’t do love. I reached out to wake him, but my hand hovered by his shoulder. All I had to do was squeeze Alex’s shoulder and tell him everything.
Don’t be a coward.
Do it.
I bit my lip until it throbbed like a pulse. I needed time to think.
Alex’s eyes flickered open. He yawned. Fatigue collected in pockets under his beautiful eyes and for the first time I noticed how tired he looked. “It’s late. Stay with me, tonight?”
Anguish wrapped around my throat, suffocating me. Memories of Mum drifted to mind. I’d had to say goodbye before I was ready. When things went wrong, it tore you apart. I had no idea how to survive it. I had to get out of here and think.
I tried to keep my voice casual despite my pounding heart. “No. It’s really time to go.”
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Chapter 34
Lana
LateratDad'splace,a knot of hunger in my stomach woke me. I’d been too sick with stress to eat at Alex’s place and now my body screamed for food. I pulled on a robe and crept downstairs in pursuit of something to ease my rolling stomach. Light spilled from underneath the kitchen door and a faint shuffling sound drifted to my ears. My teeth gritted.
Please don’t let it be Mel.
I paused at the door and listened. This wasn’t the time for another argument. My stomach growled with hunger. I’d have to just do my best to ignore her, make my toast, and get out. I pushed the door open to find Dad sitting at the kitchen table. Relief made my shoulders slump. Good. Not Mel. Dad wore his usual thread-bare red dressing gown over boxers. Dozens of photographs and old pieces of paper littered the kitchen table. Dad’s eyes locked with mine and widened. He scrambled to gather the scattered items together and sweep them into a shoe-box.
“Wait.” I stilled a photo before he could remove it. “What are these?”
He swallowed. “Nothing. You don’t have to look at them if you don’t want to.”
I scanned the display of old family photos. Mum’s face smiled back at me and knocked the air from my lungs. I hadn’t seen these photos in so long. They’d graced the walls of our old house before Dad had taken them all away. Nobody had dared to ask for him to put them back. It had always upset him so much to mention them. I’d assumed we had lost them over time along with most of Dad’s stuff.
