Hope for Us (Hope Series Book #3) (10 page)

I sat down at the head of the table claiming my spot as the head of this family, my family, and waited for them to return.

When they settled, we all dug in.

“Jack, you want to say the blessing?” He reached out for my hand and I took it. Jackson grabbed my other hand and held it. He rubbed his thumb in circles as Jack stumbled through his normal prayer.

“Dear God, thank you for the food. Thank you for our family and friends. Thank you for our blessings. In Jesus name I pray, Amen.”

“Amen,” Jackson said and pulled my hand to him mouth and kissed it. Jack watched and giggled.

I retrieved my hand. “Let’s eat.”

Jackson and Jack seemed to start in the middle of an earlier conversation about football. Jack asked questions and Jackson answered and asked him questions back. He was attentive and engaging and adorable. Jack wanted to have a man in his life. Jake and I were close, but I was his mother. He missed having a father.

Jack had his Papa, my dad, and his Uncle David. He also spent some time with his Grandpa Griffin. While Mr. Griffin was a good grandfather, their time together seemed more like they were on a commuter jet to Spoiled Child Town, USA. Mr. Griffin showered Jack with gifts and experiences. The next adventure, a hunting trip in New Jersey, I hadn't quite agreed to, yet.

I hesitated only because I wasn’t comfortable with him spending time alone with Mr. Griffin. Eight years later, I didn’t trust Mr. Griffin. He hadn’t done anything to betray my trust, but what he had done to his son Josh, Jack’s father, remained in the back of my mind. I didn’t think he would do anything wrong, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did mess up someday.

I had the same feeling being around Jackson. Jackson would be an amazing husband and father, but something kept me from seeing him in my family. Maybe I shut off the possibility that I would find happiness with a guy. It might turn out great, but it could turn to shit quickly and the shit wasn’t worth the risk. Anything that could possibly hurt my son was not worth the risk. 

Even if the odds where a million to one, I couldn’t risk that one. I had put Jack through so much even before he was born. I worked too damn hard to create a stable life for him, for us. I had to keep my brain focused on that no matter how much I wanted Jackson.

“You okay?” Jackson nudged my knee under the table. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. How’s the chicken?”

“It’s great. Not as good as your spaghetti but good.”

I avoided looking at Jackson.

“So, Jack how was school today?”

“So, cool. The kids loved the ticket.”

“Where is it, now?”

“I put it in my box.”

“What box?” Jackson asked.

“I keep every ticket from every movie, game, event. Mama does it, too.”

“Really, since when?”

“Since I was eleven.”

“I beat Mama. She has done it for me since I was born.”

“That’s so cool. Must be interesting to go back and see what you have done and seen? Remind you of the good times. You have FSU tickets in there?” 

“Yep.” Funny I would not categorize FSU as the good times worth remembering. 

“I want to see them,” he said.

“Okay, after dinner.”

Jackson smiled. My insides twisted in a knot. I put my fork down. I couldn't stomach one more bite. I looked at his face; he had no idea what was coming.

What if we stayed together? What was the worst that could happen? I could be happy and feel loved and wanted. I could have a father for my son, someone who loved him as much as I did. It would be so great to have someone to grow old with.

The problem, we were a long way away from growing old together.

No, being the girlfriend of a professional athlete, living my life from season to season, was not what I wanted for my life.

What I wanted was stability and security.

I know, it sounds boring.

Jackson couldn’t give that to me. He might want to, he might even try to give it a good effort, but when it came right down to it, his career was the most important thing in his life.

Jack cleared the table and helped Julia with the dishes. I went into my study and Jackson followed. As soon as I closed the door behind us, he pulled me into his arms and kissed my neck.

“God, I missed you today. I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.”

I hugged Jackson back, laid my head on his chest and listened to his heart rate increase. Being near me did that to him. He placed his hands on the side of my face and tilted my head up and kissed me. A quick peck at first and I moved in to kiss him deeper, but he held my face inches from mine. I felt his eyes studying me, trying to read my thoughts.

Five years ago, we were so much in each other’s heads that it scared me. We didn’t have to communicate; we held each other close and made each other feel better, even before we slept together. We had always had a connection, but what made me sure about ending this now, even though we once had a connection, was that it was severed years ago. I couldn’t even grasp a glimpse of what we had, and it hurt my heart to have to start over.

A tear spilled from my eye and I turned away from Jackson's frown. I held his hand. He squeezed it, but followed. I led him over to the couch. I sat down and Jackson sat down next to me. I looked at him and he held his head down. I reached out and touched his face, turned it to face me.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” I whispered.

She held my hand and spoke louder. 

“Jackson, I love you and you hold a special place in my heart, but I don’t have it in me to do us again. It hurt way to much when it ended the first time.”

“Why-” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Why does it have to end?”

“Well, I mean, it doesn’t. It probably won’t, but you know. I have no idea what the future holds. That’s what scares me.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Jackson. You are in a new town with a new team. You have to concentrate on that.”

I remembered the conversation with Michael. I turned away from her and sat back on the couch.

“You don’t need me distracting you. Demanding things from you.”

“When did you become so demanding?” I asked and laughed it off, but my heart wasn’t into it.

“Since I realized what I want and what type of relationship I want. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t be with someone unless Jack and I were his number one priority. I don’t want someone half assing it. My son deserves better. I deserve better.”

“You don’t think I could give you what you want?”

“No, you probably can, but I don’t want you to.” She shook her head. “Not if it meant something else in your life would suffer.”

I stared straight ahead with my arms across my chest.

My knee tapped uncontrollable, and I stared at it. Counting the taps, ten, eleven, twelve. When it reached thirty, it stopped and neither of us had spoken, yet. I turned to face her and her face held no expression. Not happy and not sad, but blank, and it scared me.

Back in college, when Carrington confronted me about when I first started dating Tiffany, I saw the same look. It gave me a clue that she wasn’t ready to move on with me. It was hard to take then. It broke my heart and it damaged me more than I cared to admit.

I never got over her so much as I learned how to live with the pain and the hurt. The constant dull ache in my chest whenever I let my guard down and thought about her, which happened on a daily occurrence.

I overanalyzed it to the point where it affected me on the field, which was not acceptable.  Then came the second-guessing. Did she affect my decision-making during the final drive in the semi-final championship game? Or that interception I threw in the game that would have won my first playoff game my rookie year?  Carrington made me doubt myself. Even the play where my ankle snapped, watching the film after, I did something on that play I never do. Was I distracted by her, then?

All these things happened when we weren’t together. I had no point of reference of how she would affect me when we were together. I think I only played a total of four games in the short time that I could call her my girlfriend.

“When did you figure this all out?” I asked.

“What difference does it make?”

“Don’t worry. I am not going to talk you out of this. I’m just curious. ” Her eyes grew wide and I chuckled, which may not have been an appropriate response, but I couldn’t help it. It all seemed rather ridiculous. At least she removed that freaky blank stare.

She scooted back on the couch and crossed her legs and placed her hands in her lap.

"I tried. I mean, from the day you walked in my office, to the Friday before the first game, we were moving forward at this really good pace. Not too fast. It was nice. Being with you and taking it slow, I thought we were on the same page." I raised my hands to prove my point. She laid out her case like any good lawyer would, but winning this case would not feel good for either of us. "Then I'm at the game and your parents went out of their way to make me feel comfortable while your brothers ignored me and then all these other people were looking at me like who is this girl and her kid. I don’t know. I felt strange. Sitting in there with all these people. Your family, your agent and all of them were so excited about this opportunity for you. They were emotionally invested. It hit me, they've been around for the whole journey. They got to see it all. The good and the bad. The wins and losses. I felt like a fraud.”

“I don’t understand.” I uncrossed my arms. “You could have been a part of it. All of it. I wanted you there through it all. Hell, in my mind, you were there because there’s nothing I’ve gone through in the last seven years where not once did I not think about you.”

“Jackson.”

“At my draft, at my first game, my first playoff win. All of it. When I broke my leg, my first thought was that I needed to let you know I was okay. I didn’t want you to worry. Sounds kind of ridiculous, but that’s how I felt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want that kind of life. I don’t want to live my life on your successes and failures. I have a son to raise and support and I don’t have the luxury of being a professional athlete’s wife.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. Forget I said it.” She stood up and I grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. She collapsed but pulled her arm away from my grasp.

“Carrington, I never asked you to be anything more than what you are?”

“You didn’t, but everyone else has.”

“Who?”

“Your brothers. Your agent.”

My eyes narrowed, and I rubbed my forehead before the headache formed.

“I sat up in that suite and no one talked to me. No one even acknowledged who I was except for your mom and dad.”

“They don’t know you.”

"Oh wait. Let me amend that." She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin out. "No one except for some slimy short guy who was with your agent. People treated me a certain way by looking at me or making decisions about me based on how I used to be and it's not fair. I'm tired of explaining myself."  

I turned to face her and held my hands in front of my face palms touching. I cocked my head to the side. “What?”

“Some sloppy drunk guy came onto me.”

“Wait, so first of all you’re pissed because you don’t want to be treated like an athlete’s piece and now you’re pissed because you weren’t treated like that.” I shook my head. “I’m confused.”

“Why--"

"Wait, I know. You don't want to have to explain yourself." I stood up and paced the floor in front of the couch. “Well fuck Carrington?  Don’t you think I deserve an explanation? I love you. I have always loved you. You’re it for me. If you don’t feel the same, fine, I get that. But I at least deserve an explanation.”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

I leaned up against the wall opposite Carrington. I watched her. The pain in her soul showed on every part of her body. She gnawed on her lip. She wrung her hands and rubbed her palms on her pants. Her shoulders slouched and her leg bounced. Her eyes darted around, looking everywhere, but me.

And then it hit me. I realized that this might not have anything to do with me.

I wanted to ask her so many questions about the last few years. Every time I brought it up, she would change the subject or turn her focus on me. When she really didn’t want to talk, we ended up having sex. I tried another approach.

“How is Kayla?” I asked.

She blinked but seemed to relax.

“She’s good.”

“She sent me an invitation to her wedding but called me and told me not to come. I thought that was funny.”

“I know. I told her that she didn’t have to uninvite you.”

“I figured she wanted the day to be about her and not about us.” She nodded her head. “How was it?”

“It was beautiful.” She pointed to a spot behind me. “That’s us on the beach right before she walked down the aisle.”

I picked up the photo. Carrington stood in the surf in a long flowing pink dress that looked incredible against her light brown skin. Her hair with her signature gold highlights sparkled in the sun, and she looked calm, relaxed and happy. She had her arm around Kayla’s waist. Carrington stole the photos.

“You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, you always look beautiful.” I put the photo down and turned back around as Carrington approached. She put her hands on my arms and slid them up, but I pushed them away.

“Jackson, I’m sorry.” She dropped her head. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just can’t do this right now.”

I fidgeted and bit my lip. I wanted to touch her. Pull her to me and make her take it back, but her big sacrificial gesture made me sick. We were exactly where we were six years ago, her scared and unsure of herself. Me wanting to fix everything, but not sure how to go about doing it. She didn't want to depend on a guy for her self-worth. It’s scarred her for life.

It scared me, the idea of disappointing her.

Everything we had done to each other before scared us both. We were ruined for anyone else, but we weren’t good enough for each other.

We are a fucking mess.

Last time I left her, I needed some time to heal myself. It didn’t feel final. I always believed we would end up together, but for the first time since I laid eyes on her, I wasn’t so sure. It broke my heart.

I sighed and leaned over. I lifted her head so I could kiss her forehead. My lips lingered and as soon as she lifted her hands to hold me, I turned and walked away.

I hoped to make a clean break, but Jack sat on the stairs in his pajamas and the football we tossed around earlier.

“Hey, buddy.” I grabbed the football in mid air and he giggled.

“You leaving.”

“Yeah, I have some studying to do and you have to go to bed.”

“Okay.”

“Give me a hug.” Jack stood on the fourth step and jumped into my arms. “Ugh.”

I loved the sound of this kid’s laugh. I held him tight and kissed the top of his head. I concentrated on not losing it. I set him back on the step and looked to my left. Carrington stood inside the living room, silent tears falling down her cheeks. I waved at her and turned and walked out the front door. Thankfully, I made it back to my place without running myself or someone else off the road.