Page 59 of The Comeback

“I’m sorry.” His face is pinched as if he’s in pain, but it’s not a fraction of what I’m feeling. He’s the one choosing football over me. The same as my father chose football over my mother and our family. Repeatedly. Until my mom put down her foot and chose family first over him.

“Well….” I grab the napkin and wipe my hands. “It’s better to find out now rather than later. Especially if there were kids in the picture. The last thing I’d want to do is drag another generation of children through the tornado of moving from town to town.” But I would’ve for him. For us. And I would’ve made it work. But fuck if I’m telling him that. “Or having a father who wasn’t around.”

“Charlotte.” He clears his throat again. “Never mind,” he sighs and rakes his hand through his hair.

“Here you go.” The waiter sets a salad bowl in front of me, and bile rises in my throat. Please, don’t throw up. Shit. I swallow. “I’ve got to go.”

“No. Stay.” He grabs my hand. “God, this sucks. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you. Not like this.”

“Like what?” Anger surges through me, and I jerk my hand back. “Hurt? Shocked? Angry? Betrayed? What did you expect? You broke up with me.”

“Not because I want to, but because I have to.”

“Why? Did your mom tell you that you had to?” Not because I want to. That’s complete and total bullshit. There’s no reason to break up with me. Other than he doesn’t see a future between us. He’s stronger than he was before his injury. He’s staring down the biggest contract of his career. The biggest one on the team, excluding Gunner, and yet, he….

Never mind. None of it matters. He told me from the beginning that football was his priority and now was not a convenient time for a relationship. He blocked that out so he could get in my pants, and now that he has, he’s done.

Cocksucker. This is why I don’t date football players. They’re fucking assholes. They’re selfish. And driven by one thing–MONEY. There’s no room for love and family.

Then why are Dani, Veronica, Ashley, and Saylor all happy, pregnant, and put on pedestals? Because they’re not me. I’m not pretty enough to get the hot football player. I’m not feminine enough. I’m not–enough. I’ve heard it all before.

“I’ve got to go.” I shove back my chair.

“I’ll take you home.” He braces his hands on the table.

“No!” Panic swells in my chest. I can’t be alone with him. I don’t want to be alone with him. I’m terrified I’m one of those women. One of the women who’ll manipulate a man to keep him. I’m not strong enough to promise that I wouldn’t use tears or sex to trick him into doing something he doesn’t want to do.

Someone’s got to save me from me.

“I’m fine. I’ll get a ride.” I inhale and slowly exhale. “Take care, Weston.” I spin on my heel and march out of the dining area with my head held high and utter devastation spreading throughout my soul like a plague taking over the world.

Chapter Thirty-One

Weston

I walk off the elevator and trudge down the hallway toward my room. Should I go ahead and cancel the room? There’s no reason to pay for it when I don’t need it after training camp. My ragged breathing echoes off the walls.

Watching Charlotte walk away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but she deserves a man who can promise her the world. Not a man who was preparing to tear her heart out. It’s better to do it now before she falls any farther.

The second she mentioned having a baby, my heart stopped. Nothing in the world would make me happier than having a family with her, but it’s selfish. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be in another city. And I won’t be the man who passes in and out of his kid’s life. Never there to put him or her to bed. Or to put a Band-Aid on an injury.

I couldn’t spend another day pretending everything was going to be fine. That I’d be in Kansas City for good. The desire to lie to her was stronger than anything I’d ever experienced. I wanted one more night in her arms. In her bed. In her heart. But I didn’t deserve it. My mom raised me to be a man of respect, and that’s what I’ll be. No matter how much it hurts.

I snap the door open and stop. Visions of Charlotte fill the room until they overwhelm me. Shit. I need out of here. Her gorgeous smile. The taste of her lips. The whimpers of ecstasy that emit from her lips when she’s coming.

Pack everything up and store it in my mom’s room. It’ll save me the hassle of packing up when I get back.

Moments later, I have everything shoved into suitcases. The gear I’m taking to training camp is in the two carry-on bags, and everything else is tossed into suitcases. The faster I get done, the quicker I can get out of here. I’ll sleep at the stadium. There’s a little office where some of the coaches stay when the season’s pressure ramps up. It’ll be perfect.

Someone knocks at the door, and my heart skips a beat. Charlotte. Please be Charlotte. If she says one word about staying together, I’m not strong enough to tell her no. Even if I ruin her life. I yank open the door to find my mom on the other side.

As she looks around me and into the room, her forehead wrinkles. “What’re you doing?”

“Packing.” I try not to sound disappointed. I was stupid to think Charlotte would come banging on my door.

“I see that.” She brushes past me and spins in a circle. “You’ve packed everything.”

“Yes.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You need to be ready to move on. They brought in another running back to compete against me. He’s younger and cheaper.”

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