Page 24 of Due Process
I had promised that I would, every single time. Then, something pressing would come up, causing my plans to fall through. Sometimes, that guilt would hit. I had even managed to pack up my gear and prepared to leave that last time… until Heather persuaded me to stay.
I was driving fast, surpassing every speed limit on my way to the game.Please don’t be late. Make it this time, you coward!
When is it going to stop? This continuous loop of regret and self-contempt.
The truth was, I didn’t deserve for it to end.
With each scathing revelation, the well of pain kept tunnelling deeper.
I hadn’t just betrayed my wife. I had also betrayed my boys.
And that was unforgivable.
I jumped the curb and parked on the grass, not bothering to find a space in the packed car park.
Just as I breached the sideline grass hill, cheers erupted from down below, and spectators swarmed the field.
And in the middle of it all was Eli, raised high on Dylan’s shoulders. My boy was glowing with pride, a beaming smile taking over half his face.
They had won;hehad won. And I’d missed it all.
Stella held onto a squealing Phoenix as she grasped Eli’s hand in congratulations.
Then, the world seemed to turn a shade darker when Curtis approachedmyfamily. He was tall enough to reach Eli’s head and ruffle his hair.
Almost stunned, my son’s face crumbled in gratitude before he torpedoed off his grandfather’s shoulders, straight for Curtis’ chest. The guy didn’t miss a beat, swinging my boy around with a chuckle before they embraced each other in a tight hug.
A cold sweat swiftly coated my skin as my chest grew unbearably tight.
Am I having a heart attack? Pretty sure I’m having a heart attack.
And why wouldn’t I be? I had been banished to the outskirts, as if I were an interloper looking in on the life that belonged to me.
I missed it all.
Chapter 14
CURTIS
My hand rested upon Eli’s head when my son, Logan, came crashing through. “Eli! We fucking did it!” he yelled.
“Aye!” I interjected. “Language, son.”
Before he could get away, I caught my boy, forcing him into a hug.
“Sorry,” he replied, not sounding apologetic at all.
“Hmm. I’ll let it slide this once. I’m proud of you, bug. You played well,” I said, pressing a kiss to his head.
“Eww,” he sputtered. “Let go, Dad. People are watching.”
“And why should I care?”
“Because I’m eleven years old now. You have to respect my—”
“That’s it,” I said, then I squeezed him tighter, ensuring he couldn’t escape before I attacked. Logan combusted into raucous laughter as I tickled him into hysterics.
When I was done, he sobered quickly, gaze caught on Eli, who was bent over, cackling.
