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I let her go once back in high school, and I swore I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
But now I have no choice.
She doesn’t want you.
She’ll never trust you again.
I don’t deserve her, someone that beautiful and sweet. I held her heart in my hand and fumbled it. I may not have cheated on her like she thought, but she’s right.
I wasn’t honest with her, wasn’t man enough to own up to my mistakes. I kept part of myself from her, hoping she’d never find out the truth.
And now we’re done.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell chimes, echoing through the quiet house, and startles me out of my pity party. It’s probably a delivery from Troy, some celebratory bottle of bourbon or something. Maybe a packet of papers from HR I need to sign for. I don’t dare hope it’s Sloane, coming to tell me she forgives me and will take me back.
Shoving the ring into my pocket, I lumber downstairs, the chime dinging again. The delivery must be important.
I freeze at the bottom of the stairs and clutch the railing. I’d love to dash back upstairs, but it’s too late now.
Coach already spotted me through the frosted glass.
Shit.
He’s the last person I want to see right now. I promised him I wouldn’t hurt Sloane and that’s exactly what I did.
After everything he’s done for me, I can only imagine what he’s about to say.
With a deep breath, I open the door. “Coach.”
“Camden. May I?” He tips his head at the house and I nod, holding the door for him. He crosses over the threshold and my gut roils.
There are fewer things I want to do right now than have this conversation. But I owe him that much.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I motion to the fridge, but Coach shakes his head.
“No, thanks. This isn’t a social call.”
“Oh, right.” I lick at the inside of my lip, anxiety churning through me in full-force. “Come on in.”
I walk to the kitchen and Coach follows close behind me in silence. I offer him a stool at the island, but he declines.
“I’m okay.” He removes his hat, clutching the brim with his thick fingers. “Son, respectfully, what the hell were you thinking cheating on Sloane? After you stood in my house and swore to me you wouldn’t hurt my daughter. Then the first chance you get, you sleep around on her? You should be ashamed.” A vein pops in his neck, his knuckles white from the tight grip on his hat.
“It’s not what you think, sir.” I swallow hard, my throat tight and dry. “I didn’t cheat on her. I’d never do that to Sloane.”
“Don’t lie to me, son. She told me all about it.” Coach narrows his eyes at me and I resist the urge to squirm beneath his steely gaze.
Hot shame washes over me. I hate that Coach knows about all of this, that I let him down, too. I have to set the record straight—say the words out loud—because he deserves to know the truth as well.
“Have you talked to her today? Because what Sloane saw was fake.” I take a deep breath, swallow hard over the rock lodged at the back of my throat. “I’m not downplaying my behavior, sir. There is a video—I’m not proud of it and wish I could take it back—but that happened well before I started dating Sloane. Someone altered the date and timestamp on the video and made it look like it happened down in Florida. It didn’t, I promise. I’d never hurt her like that. And I should have told her about the video sooner—I know that now—but I didn’t. Truth is, I’m ashamed. At how I acted, the things I did. I had my reasons at the time, but still—” I rake a hand through my hair, try to keep the wobble out of my voice.
“Son, are you telling me this is the same video from the winter, when you were still in Chicago?”
I jerk my head up. “What?”
“You think I don’t know how to search things up on the internet? You’re a good player, Cam. Teams don’t cut good players for dropping a pass or two.”
