Page 66 of The Comeback

Weston

As we pull into the stadium, my skin crawls. The need to see Charlotte consumes every ounce of my being. But I haven’t heard a word about a contract. After Coach Tillman’s talk, I was an animal on the field. But…. still nothing. I need to know what I’m asking of her.

The bus slows, and the hissing sound of the air brakes signals we’ve almost stopped. The vehicle lurches forward and then backward.

Every day without a contract makes staying in Kansas City less likely to happen. Do I go somewhere else? Can I ask her to move with me? Would she? Hell, at this point, I don’t even know if she’ll see me again. Do I quit football altogether?

The door swings open. I grab my carry-on luggage, hauling it over my shoulder, and move at a snail’s pace behind the guy in front of me. When someone bounces into me from behind, I lurch forward.

“Sorry, man,” Gunner mutters. “I should watch where I’m going.” He grins and gives me a wink. “I might be a little too excited to see my wife.”

“I get it.” I turn back around. I’d love to be excited to see my wife. The bus spins around me. I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her.

As I step down to the ground, I study the city skyline. Kansas City is a good place to live and raise a family. I have money in the bank. I have a college degree. I talked with my mom the other night, and Piper is doing great, so I don’t have to worry about any unexpected medical expenses.

The other players greet their wives and girlfriends, leaving me feeling jealous and dejected. That should be Charlotte and me. Instead, I’m miserable. Every second is harder than the last. I straighten my shoulders. It’s time to put down roots and start a family. I’ve got to convince her that she can fall in love with an ex-football player who’s now a software designer.

As the coaches file into the building, I follow behind them. The hallway is dark compared to the bright sunshine outside, so it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.

Coach Tillman turns around and studies me. “I thought you’d be on your way home like the rest of the guys.”

“They’ve got someone at home to see.” I clear my throat. “Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure.” He cocks his head toward the breakroom near the locker rooms. “No one should be in there right now.”

I follow him inside. The room is sparse except for an overhead hanging light, a sofa, and a recliner. It’s not fancy like many of the other places in the stadium. It’s right out of the 1980s.

He falls into the chair. “It’s been a long three weeks. I can’t wait to get home.”

I shove my hands into my jeans pockets. “I won’t keep you long. Listen, I made a mistake breaking up with Charlotte. I realize that now. I knew it almost as soon as I did it, but I didn’t want to have the conversation on the phone. If she’ll listen to me, I’ll apologize and beg her to take me back.”

He rests his right ankle on his left knee and crosses his arms over his chest. “How successful do you think you’ll be?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I screwed up. I was too focused on getting a big contract, but it doesn’t matter if I don’t have her. The stability I wanted doesn’t mean anything without her. I also had some baggage from my childhood that I needed to work through. My father left when I was young, and I was under the impression that he skipped out on us to chase his dreams. That wasn’t what happened. They were happily married until he died.” I gnaw on my bottom lip. Here goes nothing. This is not what a dad wants to hear. “If I don’t get a contract here, I’ll retire from football. Charlotte doesn’t want to move, and I’d rather be with her than chase the money.”

His eyes narrow. “So, you’re sacrificing my daughter’s financial security to make yourself happy?”

“I have money from my rookie contract and my endorsements. I’ve invested heavily and barely spent any of it. I can’t ask her to do the one thing that would make her miserable. She’d end up hating me. If she’ll even have me back.”

He studies me for what feels like an eternity. “It sounds like you’re willing to give up your version of stability for my daughter’s version.” He stands and slaps my shoulder. “That’s a solid foundation to build a relationship upon. Let me know if you have any trouble convincing her to take you back. She’s got a good one in you.” He smirks. “Be sure to tell her I was right about you, and she was dead wrong. I’ll gloat about it for years. Just wait for Thanksgiving dinners.” He grabs the doorknob. “You need to call your agent.”

Well, that went better than expected.

As he shuts the door behind him with a snap, I drag my cellphone out of my carry-on bag. The bus was too loud to mess with it on the trip back to town. I press the button on the side of the phone, turning it on.

Ding. Ding. Ding. My cellphone buzzes in my hand as message after message rolls on the screen.

Carter: Where are you?

Carter: Are you ignoring me?

Carter: I feel like a fourteen-year-old girl stalking the quarterback. You’re making me look like a pansy here.

I poke at his image and wait for him to answer. “What’s up?”

Carter chuckles. “You are. Or you’re going to be. Are you sitting down?”

“No.” My heart skips a beat. If I quit, he’s going to freak out. I fall onto the cushions of the sofa and close my eyes. And my mom. Shit. Will she be mad?

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