Page 139 of Bleacher Report
My spine straightens. “What should I know?”
“She gave up the syndication deal. Called Rebecca from the hospital cafeteria. Told her she wouldn’t take the offer if it meant leaving you.”
Air rushes out of my lungs.
“Bethany cornered her,” Abby continues. “Told her she’d pull the trade offer unless Peyton walked. So she did. Because she didn’t want you to have to choose between your mom and her.”
I stare at the sidewalk, jaw clenched.
“She loves you, Hunter. That part I definitely shouldn’t be telling you, but I know you love her too. That’s why she did it.”
It hits me like a damn freight train.
All this time, I thought she didn’t choose me. But the truth is, she chose me so hard she walked away.
There’s a long pause between us as I relive that moment of Peyton telling me that she was leaving and that I should stay. And then how smug Bethany acted after Peyton left, but I didn’t read into it…until now. And that entire time, Bethany already knew that her divorce wasn’t going down the way she wanted. She knew when she told Peyton to walk away that she didn’t have the authority to offer me a trade deal.
“Did you hear what I said?”
I nod, knowing that I have to get Peyton back. “How do you feel about grand gestures?” I ask Abby.
She smirks. “Big fan.”
“Good,” I say, unlocking my phone. “I’m going to need your help.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
New Year’s Eve
PEYTON
I should be at the stadium, surrounded by snacks and champagne-flavored gummy bears in the owner's box. At least, that’s what Cammy texted me about an hour ago.
Cammy:Are you coming out tonight? New Year’s Eve games are the best. There’s always something in the air, and we’re all going out after.
Peyton:Thanks, but I’m going to lay low. Maybe edit some, watch a movie, and then head to bed early.
The part I don’t tell her—“...and try not to think about the man I gave up, the syndication deal I turned down, or the way the silence in my townhouse echoes now that he’s gone.”
I settle into the couch, curled up in my sweats, when a knock sounds at the door.
I didn’t call for a food delivery and as far as I know, no one should be coming over today.
I rise, peeking through the window—and freeze.
Jesse.
Standing on the porch with his cane, bundled in a jacket two sizes too big and a smug little smirk on his face. Abby’s parked at the curb, idling like she knows this is a quick drop.
I pull open the door. "Jesse? What—"
He hands me a thick envelope, then shrugs like it’s no big deal. "He asked me to give this to you. And we’re kind of best friends now, so don’t screw this up for me," he says with a wink.
“Who are you best friends with?” I ask…though I already have a feeling I know who he’s talking about.
“Hunter Reed.”
I shake my head and ruffle his hair. "You’re unbelievable."
