Page 9 of The Marriage Rebound

It was then that I remembered where I was, and how many eyes were watching. A camera crew, fans with their phones all out . . . and they were all pointed toward us. Every moment could and usually was captured these days. The worse it was, the better for social media. I’d already dealt with one too many highlight reels featuring me and Sasha in one of our not-so-great moments. Making a scene was not advisable right now.

“Yeah, g’on leave me for your little team. Ain’t nothing I ain’t used to.”

Her hand slipped from my grasp as Shae pushed me in the direction of the rest of the players. Sasha’s dismissiveness was like taking everything that was important to me, everything that I’d worked for all these years, crumbling it up like a piece of discarded paper and tossing it aside.

I had to force my way through the pictures and quick interviews while fighting back the seething burning through my veins. I was grateful when Coach called for a wrap-up then ushered us into the building, allowing only family to come with us. I didn’t bother to look for Sasha or her friend. It took everything in me to not go off as it was, the mounting grief building inside me like a pressure cooker.

“So, what was that all about?” Shae asked, falling into step with me.

“Nothin’.”

“That felt like it was definitely something.”

I cut my eyes to her and shook my head. “Sasha being Sasha,” I replied with a heavy sigh.

She lightly grabbed my arm, stopping our forward motion. “You sure? Because I’ve been around y’all when in the downs and that felt different, even to me.”

I rubbed at the spot between my brows. What I’d told Tina on the plane wasn’t completely off. I was tired. I was weighed down from handling it all, and after Sasha’s latest stunt I was seriously wondering what I was doing it all for.

I could always excuse her other tantrums because at the end of the day I truly believed she cared, and we worked. It wasn’t perfect, hell, nothing was, but I’d made a commitment and that meant something. Now that belief was on shaky ground. Doc, Jah, and Tina strolled up.

Doc darted her attention between me and Shae. “Y’all good?”

“Yeah, just ready for a long hot shower and a good night’s sleep in my own bed,” I answered.

Three of the four women probably knew I was full of shit, but none of them pushed me, which I was thankful for. And no one questioned the missing elephant in the room: Where was Sasha?

Vuitton barked and turned in circles as I walked up the stairs from the garage. “At least you’re happy to see me.” I glanced at the microwave clock then back down at the little animal who sat staring up at me. “Ah . . . not so much happy to see me, just someone with opposable thumbs that can feed you.”

I opened the door to let him out since I wasn’t sure how long he’d been here alone, then began fixing food he probably wasn’t even going to eat since Sasha wasn’t here to watch him do it. I had no interest in being his audience. As expected, he looked at his bowl for a moment, then was hot on my heels when I exited the kitchen, heading upstairs.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I dropped my duffel at the entry to my bedroom, taking in the sight before me.

There were bags everywhere. I was gone three days, and it looked like she’d bought out fucking Phipps Plaza. She couldn’t call, text, or hell, even say anything not covered in snark today, but she had no problem spending my fucking money. Vuitton jumped at my ankles, whimpering for attention.

I bent to pick him up before taking a seat on the bed as I stroked his soft fur. “She’s even neglecting you, just expecting me to take care of it considering she didn’t even bring her ass home.”

He looked up at me as if he understood then hopped out of my arms, walked over to her side of the bed, and sniffed around before curling up next to her pillow. I let out a long sigh as I looked around the room again. A nice long hot shower would hopefully help release some of the tension that continued to crank tighter and tighter.

Chapter 5

Sasha

Denise danced her way back to our booth with our drinks. Lucky Lady wasn’t a place we’d normally go, but I wasn’t in the mood for the crowds at our usual spots. Denise wasn’t a fan; she complained it was too laid-back and “uppity.” I actually liked the laid-back vibe, which was why I brought us here, though it was better when I was here with Courtney a few months back and had access to the VIP. Regardless, we’d have a good time, and I needed that tonight.

“Whew, girl, the bartender did right by this round,” Denise said, taking a sip from her glass as she handed me mine. “As she should, since we both know this shit is overpriced and damn near watered down. A problem we wouldn’t have if we’d just gone to the club.” She twisted her lips to the side and rolled her eyes before downing more of her mojito.

I darkened the screen of my phone, then took a swig of my Moscow mule. She wasn’t wrong—I shivered a little after my taste. The vodka was vodka-ing for sure. Denise had to have pulled out all the flirting stops with the bartender, which had loosened the pour. That was just what I needed. The stronger the better.

Denise took another pull of her drink, puckering up when the liquor hit her tastebuds. She did a full body shake before sitting down. “She blowin’ you up wondering where you are?” Denise asked, jutting her chin toward my phone. “Cuz, girl, you hit a fuckin’ nerve today.” She put her hand up for a high-five, which I completed. “You could see her nostrils flaring and shit.”

“Good. She was already keyed up, blowin’ me up after the game. I left her on read.” And then muted notifications from her out of fear of losing my resolve.

The biggest game of her life and she’d not wanted me there because of something as trivial as the cost of a plane ticket. I sucked down almost half my drink to force the memory away. It was bullshit, all of it. She liked seeing me in the stands as long as it didn’t cost her anything, otherwise she didn’t need me around.

“I know that’s right. Let her ass stew.”

I made a noncommittal noise and focused my attention on swirling the remainder of my drink around in the mug. Denise was all too happy to cosign whenever I was doing a tit-for-tat with Courtney. If I needed validation, reassurance that my feelings weren’t misplaced or too much, Denise fed that beast. Court was pissed today, but she’d also looked . . . hurt. And I hadn’t been expecting that.