Page 72 of The Comeback

Twenty Minutes Later

I stand in the doorway between the bathroom and the living room with the white stick clutched in my hand. “I’m pregnant.”

Tara’s eyes fill with tears as she jumps off the sofa, runs to me, and embraces me in a bear hug. “This is so exciting. You’re going to be a wonderful mom. I can’t wait to tell Dylan.”

From over her shoulder, I stare at the row of dust-covered basketball trophies and ribbons with medals hanging down. They symbolize my past. The goals I used to strive for. The hopes I used to have. And for the first time, I’m truly thankful for my injury.

Without it, I wouldn’t have switched directions with my future. I wouldn’t have met Weston, and I wouldn’t be carrying the most precious gift he could have ever given me–whether he wanted me to have it or not.

She releases me and steps back.

In one minute, everything shifted into focus. I’m no longer the center of the universe. And what I want comes second. No matter what happens between Weston and me, he needs to know. He deserves that. The baby deserves that. I deserve that.

We’re both mature, responsible people who will do what’s best for our baby. Whether that’s co-parenting from two different cities or not.

No. I rest my hand on my stomach. That’s not fair to the baby. She needs her father in her life–every day. What she needs is bigger than anything else. If he’s traded, that’s where we’ll be. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love me or if we’re never together. The baby is first.

This is what my mother meant. When you have kids, you make sacrifices for what’s best for their stability and future. No matter what it costs you.

Let’s hope it’s not on the sidelines as we watch him bring home cleat chaser after cleat chaser.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Weston

My feet pound in the familiar cadence as I run on the treadmill in the hotel gym. No one else in the room, so the only sounds are the hum of the machine and my ragged breathing.

Thirty minutes of continuous running at a 15% incline was something I would’ve never considered after my Achille’s injury, but now, I don’t blink an eye. I trust that my surgeon did a superb reconstruction job, and I believe in my training regimen.

When my cellphone dings, I take a deep breath and force myself not to break a leg, trying to see if it’s Charlotte. I slowly lower the speed and incline, taking the extra five minutes I need to cool down. I’m no good to her if I don’t take care of myself.

As the machine comes to a rest, I grab a white towel and wipe the sweat off my face. My cellphone flashes and beeps again.

I inhale and walk over to it, praying that my life will start looking up.

Charlotte: Where are you?

Charlotte: We need to talk.

I jam my finger on her name and wait for her to pick up. “Hello?” The sound of her voice makes my knees weak. I miss her so much.

“Hey, sorry I missed your texts. I’m at the hotel. Where are you? I can come wherever you are.” As I hold the phone to my ear, my hand shakes.

“It’s fine. I’m here. I was just at your door, but no one answered.”

“I’m in the gym. It’s on the same floor as my room. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Okay.” The nervousness in her voice does nothing to calm my swirling emotions.

I grab my T-shirt and room key and shove the door open. She’s standing in the hallway wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a lopsided ponytail as if she hasn’t given much thought to her appearance. But it does nothing to dissuade from her beauty. She’s like an angel sent down from heaven.

The door closest to me opens, and my mom pops her head out. When she sees Charlotte, she gasps, “Oh, dear, you’re here. We’ve missed you terribly. Wait one second.” She shoves the door wider, drags out a chair, propping it open, and rushes not the hallway. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Summers. It’s good to see you, too.”

My mom wraps her arms around Charlotte and squeezes until her eyes widen.

“Mom.” I give a warning bark, but it does no good. She continues to fawn over her as I slip my T-shirt over my head and wait. There’s nothing else to do at this point.

---