Page 92 of Payback
“Well, making sex videos isn’t how I do things either, so I think it’s time for trying new things.” She forces a smile that hurts my fucking soul as she hands the paper over to me. “Sign the statement, Roan,” she says with a final tone to her voice, pursing her lips and trying to fight back tears. “And I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday. But please know that I will never forgive myself.”
She pauses like she wants to hug me goodbye but knows she shouldn’t. The entire act feels final and distant for some odd reason, like she’s not just going back to Notting Hill but far, far away. With one last withering look, she steps out into the rain and I watch her leave.
When I can no longer see her, I look down at the piece of paper in my hand that has an offer on it. An offer that I really shouldn’t refuse. The problem is, the offer I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with isn’t on the table anymore.
Sweat pours down my back as the automatic soccer ball track kicks out the last five balls at me in five-second intervals. I zig and zag, eating up the Tower Park training room and stopping the balls with my foot before launching them into the unguarded net. The sound of the ball hitting the net every damn time is music to my ears and a welcome distraction from my roaring, painful thoughts.
I’ve been at it for two hours, trying to sweat away the look on Allie’s face when she left yesterday. Trying to sweat away the tender touch of her hand on mine. Trying to sweat away the memory of a body that I knew so intimately that I could bring it to life with a single breath of air.
My body aches from exertion as I walk over to my duffel bag and drop down on the ground to fish out a water bottle. I drink half the contents and hear a door open in the distance. I look over to see Vaughn Harris walking toward me. He has that all-business look on him again. The same one he had when I met with him about the statement.
“DeWalt, did you forget it’s the off-season?” he asks, coming to stand above me with his arms crossed.
“This is the only place that quiets my brain,” I reply by way of explanation.
His brows lift. “Is it working?”
I huff out a laugh. “Not really.”
He half smiles and lowers himself to the ground beside me. “That’s women for you.”
I turn to look at him, surprised by his candidness. “Does it ever get easier?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Not if you find one who’s worth it.”
I frown at him curiously. “How do you know when someone is worth it?”
He releases a heavy sigh. “For me, it was when I realised that I cared more about her than football.” He offers me a resigned smile. “I quit football after my wife got sick, you know. I was the top player at Man U at the time and life was good. Really good. But then Vilma became ill and nothing else mattered. I actually got into a massive row with my brother about quitting. That’s Alice’s father, Charles. He couldn’t believe I was breaking a million-pound contract to watch my wife die. I couldn’t believe he didn’t see that it wasn’t even an option for me to stay. At the time, I knew that there was no career or amount of money in the world that was more important than my family.”
“Did you ever have any regrets?” I ask, hanging on his every word.
“I had regrets for years, but only because I lost myself when I lost her. I didn’t appreciate the legacy of my wife who lived in the eyes of my children. It was a dark time for my whole family.”
I straighten my legs out and absorb his comment for a minute. “You seem to be great with all of them now. Sunday dinners and all that.”
“That’s because if there’s enough love, all is forgivable.” He shrugs like it’s a simple comment, but it doesn’t feel simple. “Sometimes you just don’t really know how much you love someone until they’re gone. And I’m referring to Alice here, son, not my wife.”
I frown at his last remark. “What do you mean by that?”
He exhales through his nose knowingly. “You know she went back to Chicago today, right?”
My brows furrow in confusion. “She went back for Rosalie’s wedding? Why would she do that?”
He shakes his head. “Not just for the wedding. She packed up all of her stuff and moved back for good from the sounds of it. Her father lined up a job interview for her with a friend of his. She thinks it’ll be better for her to leave London after everything that happened. I guess I’m glad her father is at least trying.”
I jump to my feet, my heart racing at the words coming out of his mouth. “What are you talking about? She can’t just move back to Chicago without thinking about it first,” I bellow, my shoulders high and tense. “What the fuck is she thinking?”
Vaughn stares up at me incredulously. “Why can’t she move back? She lost her job and the man she loves. There’s nothing really keeping her here.”
“Her home is here!” I exclaim defensively. “With you guys,” I hurriedly add to the end, gesticulating with my hands like a mad man as I pace back and forth on the artificial grass.
Vaughn’s brows lift curiously. “Her home is not with you of course.”
I stop in my tracks and stare down at the man who’s supposed to be my manager, my coach. Someone to push me in my career, not advise me on my love life. I shove my hands through my hair, my whole world feeling like it’s spinning. “I don’t know.”
Vaughn laughs and shakes his head like a knowing father. “Well you better figure it out, son, because she’s flying an ocean away from you right now.”
